And getting depressed. Sigh. Will post tomorrow.

This sounds a lot worse than it is.

So yesterday I got up early, went for a run, came home and made a tasty breakfast. Then once the kid was in bed for a nap, I rubbed my hands with glee as I headed into the kitchen to make my first cup of sweet sweet coffee. Usually I make coffee first thing, but since starting up the running again, I’ve been forced to wait. No problem – Ezmy can totally patiently wait fo…ok, I can’t even finish typing that sentence. I hate waiting for coffee but I simply must if I’m going to enjoy hot coffee on run mornings, so I do.

Anyway.

I took my precious coffee grinder out of the cupboard, the lovely stainless steel beast that baby brother IL gave to me so many years ago, and promptly dropped her on the counter. I don’t know how or why. I can only assume that I was jittery from lack of caffeine. But when I plugged her in and tried to grind my beans (that’s what she said), nothing happened! Gasp!!! Sad little grinder and even sadder Ezmy. I tried blending the beans in my little food processor, but all I got was smaller coffee beans. I used them anyway, with disastrous results. Disastrous results that I STILL DRANK. A low point for Ezmy. But I couldn’t go out and get a grinder at that moment and who knows how long Budsie might sleep so…yeah.

The second Budsie was up, we went out to buy a coffee grinder. Yes I may have neglected to mention in yesterday’s post that ‘errand day’ was almost completely inspired by the tragic death of my coffee grinder. And that the first stop wasn’t an errand but a stop at Starbucks for a proper cup of coffee. Oh Ezmy, you sad sad little drug addict.

So today’s resolution: cut back on the coffee. I think I might have suggested in other posts that I would never do this but I really think I should. If only so I don’t go into flying internal rages every time I am denied access to coffee. I currently drink three cups each day (two in the morning and one in the afternoon) which is down from my full-time grad student six per day habit *pats self on back without real reason to*. I’m going to shoot for two and then maybe, MAYBE shoot for one. I think I can replace the afternoon coffee with peppermint tea but there is no way that’s going to work in the morning right now. The withdrawal headaches alone could kill me. What? They totally could! You don’t know.

(forgot to post…sigh)

Today is errand day. For a couple of reasons. First, I got up stupid early and am all stupid perky at an unreasonable hour. Second, it’s going to rain and be gross all day. Third, Budsie is a little off with his napping due in no small part to me accidentally waking him up (FAIL on my part). Finally, and most importantly, I have a car!! Not for long, just while Mum is off traveling around Europe with Frenchie. But it’s here and I’m sooooo going to make use of it. Do you know how long it’s going to take me to go to five different stores? Maybe 45 minutes. Do you know how long this whole trip would take if I had to take the bus? Maybe 2 hours. Not having a car is not a huge deal but man, it takes SO MUCH LONGER to do things. Especially in the winter. But I don’t want to talk about this past winter. *shudders at memories of strollers and snow and uncooperative snowsuits*

Anyway, in honour of errand day, I’m going to resolve to do the following: set up a savings account for Budsie. Because people give him money and it should go somewhere other than a jar marked ‘Budsie’. Plus, it’s never too early to start talking about savings accounts, right? Right.

Update on previous resolutions: I had to restart the veggie tracker AGAIN because I lost the old one. Perhaps writing it on the computer instead of on a scrap piece of paper might be better. Oh Ezmy, scrap paper writing is soooo 1998. Anyway, it’s going ok but after three days, the average is 4.5…not the best when you consider that 7 is the daily recommended intake. Ah well, I still have four days to pick things up a bit.

Off to get all errand-y.

Sample Sunday morning conversation:

A.: *decorating his Little Big Planet room* “I have seaweed on my face.”

Ezmy: *looks up from work* “Why do you have seaweed on your face?”

A.: “Well, obviously I got carried away putting seaweed on my wall and I got some on my face.”

Ezmy: “Obviously.”

A.: *removes seaweed from face* “Hey! Where did my seaweed go?”

Ezmy: “On your wall? I don’t know. Maybe you put it on your face instead.”

A: *sighs and begins to redecorate fictional wall with fictional seaweed*

Ezmy: *notices wall* “Why do you need seaweed? Don’t you like the purple flowers?”

A: *sighs* “I do like the purple flowers. But I also like the effect of seaweed and purple flowers.”

Ezmy: “I see.”

(Ezmy returns to work. A. returns to game, having applied a satisfactory amount of seaweed to his fictional wall. Minutes pass…)

A.: “I still have seaweed on my face! Fucking hell!”

Ah Sundays.

In other news, I was most irritated to discover that the bread I toasted to go with my tasty breakfast this morning has 10lbs of sugar in it. Seriously, has anyone ever noticed just how much sugar is in store bread? Un-freaking-believable. And I love bread. LOVE IT. Hmm. Time to take matters into my own hands. Quite literally – I’m going to make me some bread dough and bake up some loaves of tasty unsweetened bread-y goodness. That’s the resolution for today: bake more bread, thus reducing my sugar intake (and sulphites and other such things that do not belong in bread) and the budget needed for bread each week. Well, probably less on the money side but whatever.

Ooooh perhaps I’ll make some pizza dough while I’m at it…nom nom nom.

Quickity quick – resolution for June 9? Take bad days and turn them into awesome. June 9th was a day with a rough start but I was determined not to let the whole day fall to shit. Sometimes when I get off to a rough start, I can’t seem to overcome to crap. But on Thursday I totally succeeded and the day ended with a kick ass date night (five years!) and a positive frame of mind, in spite of a looming cold. The resolution for June 10? Remember to power down when I have a cold. I used to be great at this. Never one to push the limits with illness, before having Budsie, if I got sick, I stayed home, drank my weight in tea and rode the sicky wave. There’s not much else to do really. But since having Budsie, I can’t ride the sicky wave quite that easily, what with there being a human being to look after and all. But I did cancel a playdate and I did forgive myself for eating nothing but bread and cheese and apples (my diet of choice when I feel like garbage) all day. I didn’t sleep but that can’t be helped.

Which brings us to today. I still feel like poo so I haven’t really accomplished much today. But! I did paint my toenails. ‘So what’ you say? ‘Pfft’ I reply. Painting my toenails is significant because it’s a silly thing to do with one’s time and I rarely have the opportunity to do silly things with my time anymore. But that’s not the fault of others – it’s me. Budsie gives me opportunities when he naps, A. gives me chances when he’s home at night or on the weekend, but somehow I always manage to fill the time with something else. Not today! Today I painted my toenails and it felt awesome. Unfortunately, I look like an idiot because I tried to freehand a french manicure, something I used to be awesome at. I must have had a steadier hand in highschool (this is fascinating to me since I lived on coffee, marijuana and cigarettes). *glances at feet* Seriously, I look like I let Budsie and Zoe do the painting. No matter. The resolution for today and this summer: paint my toenails and have nice sandal feet. Even though I don’t really wear sandals. Whatever.

Update on previous resolutions: I officially volunteer with Planned Parenthood Ottawa. Woot! And the reading list is going well – ‘Middlemarch’ is complete and I’ve moved on to ‘Tess of the D’Urbervilles’ (sorry again, Charles). On a less positive note, the fructose-free/limited diet has been a bust due to the cold. I know, I know. There really shouldn’t be any excuses but when I’m sick, I want apples, chocolate, cheese, and all things baked. So I’m starting fresh tonight. Showering alone is going super well and is super duper awesome (see toenail experience above). Making dessert? Not that bad either. Tonight’s was berries with mascarpone cheese (sweetened a touch for A. and Budsie but not for me). Oh so tasty. Finally, I’ve upped our grocery bill and do not feel bad about it one bit. I didn’t stress at the shop today and I got some lovely goodies to make dinner for my menfolk with. *pats self on back*

Right, so there is no point in trying to catch up on resolutions and such. Let’s just write off this last week as seven days of madness. Mum was in town with Frenchie, we had a party for the kid, multiple hockey games of both the awesome and not so awesome variety, French Open finals, etc. etc. It took me all day yesterday just to feel back to normal again. But here we are and I’m ready to get back down to business.

First, let’s do a little reminiscing shall we? Today is June 8 and exactly one year ago today, I woke up with my one day old baby and thought “Holy hellfire, I have a one day old baby!”:

Gah! So teeny! Yesterday he turned one:

Madness. The first four weeks of his life craaaaaaaaawled by and now he’s one whole year old, sitting at Starbucks eating bagels and drinking milk like he’s been doing it for years. Wow.

Today is also cause for pause for me because on this day five years ago, I was considering canceling a date that a friend of mine set up. Well, I’m not sure she meant it to be a date per se. More of a meet and greet. The guy in question was coming from Halifax to stay for the weekend and JH thought we might hit it off so she arranged for herself, L2D, CCR and this gentleman to meet me at a local pub on June 9th. But on June 8th, I was exhausted from thesis-ing and frankly not that enthused about trying out the dating game given my previous record. So I almost canceled. But then I thought ‘Hmmm, he seems pretty cool and he’s super frickin’ funny so why not?’ So very very glad I didn’t cancel. *beams*

Finally, June 8 is also the day that I start my elimination month. BOOOOOO. But the thing is, it appears as though the stomach issues stem (in part) from a problem with sugar. More specifically, fructose. This is unsurprising given that I am lactose intolerant (a fact I frequently ignore much to the dismay of my stomach). I’ve been keeping a food diary for the last two months, see, and within hours of consuming something containing a high level of fructose, and especially something that has more fructose than glucose in it, my stomach starts to rebel in a most unpleasant way. The good news? I was tested for celiac’s and it’s not that. The bad news? If it’s a fructose malabsorption problem, I may still have to avoid the same foods as celiac sufferers. Sigh. Anyway, today’s resolution (you’ll notice I waited until after the kid’s birthday to start this one, not wanting to give up birthday cake awesomeness. Worth it) is to start the dang elimination month and see if sugar is a/one of the potential culprits. Lame with a capital ‘L’. This is seriously going to disrupt my ‘make dessert’ resolution. Time to get creative…

Mum and step-dad moved into town….house in shambles….playdates…birthday party for the Budsie…Stanley Cup Finals (YAYA BABY)….small amounts of work….appointments….total madness. Have draft posts for the last three days but can’t be bothered to post them now as am exhausted.Will return on Sunday with luck. Must go. Kilkenny is calling my name….

When A. went back to work, showers became….challenging. Some babies like to go in the shower with the parent in question. My child screamed like a banshee when I tried this. So from three months until he started taking rolling around seriously, I would plunk him on the bath mat with his Sophie Giraffe and spend 75% of my shower time performing puppet shows with Mr. Shampoo and Mr. Conditioner and narrating my entire shower experience. When the rolling around became serious enough business that leaving him on the floor wasn’t an option, I started using his activity chair. About two months ago, the activity chair was problematic because Mr. Budsie was able to launch himself forward in it and flip the chair. Sigh. We still had his crib in our room though and since the bathroom is attached to our bedroom, I plunked him in the crib with a bunch of blocks and shouted encouraging words from the shower.

Now, however, Budsie is in his own room, which is located down the hall from the bathroom. Not a long hall, mind you, but long enough that shouting is impractical. Hmmm. Time to take the plunge, methinks. Today’s resolution is to shower alone. That is, put Budsie in his crib in his room with his toys and then say “Mummy will be right back” and head off to the bathroom all by my lonesome. I’m sure it will be fine. The odds of him discovering how to make fire with his stackable cups are unlikely as are the odds of him learning how to stand, dis-assemble his crib and run out into the street. At least not in the time it takes me to have a shower. So I’m going to try it. I’ll let you know how it goes.

Update on previous resolutions: as part of the use up what is left in the pantry resolution, I’m icing all of my teas. Well, except for my emergency stash of Irish Breakfast for mornings when I run out of coffee (which has only happened once since the resolution not to *pats self on back*). First up today is the raspberry leaf tea from when I was pregnant. We have a box in the tea cupboard leftover from my nausea in the second trimester, before I was told to avoid it like bubonic plague in my third trimester. I have to admit, I still get nervous when I look at the box. Like drinking this tea is going to a) make me instantly pregnant and b) throw me into labour to deliver the baby that was suddenly put in me by the tea. Obvious madness. Oh yes and tonight’s dessert? Baked apples with cinnamon, which I think the kid will like too. Tasty times at Ezmy’s house!

(forgot to post…maybe I should resolve to post things on time…meh)

Growing up, we always had dessert. Even though I grew up in a house with no sugary cereal and very little processed food, my mum in particular was very big on dessert of some kind, be it oranges with a teensy spoonful of ice cream or one square of chocolate. It was the thing to look forward to, the thing that kept hope alive while you worked your way through that mountain of broccoli.

When I moved out on my own, dessert disappeared. For a couple of reasons, really. To begin with, I couldn’t afford it – dessert was bonus food and cigarettes were more important that bonus food. In addition, most of the crap jobs I worked at included bonuses like *free* pastries, so ‘dessert’ as an end to a meal didn’t exist but I consumed more than enough sugary awesomeness to make up for it.

Lately I’ve been noticing that I give Budsie dessert at night. He eats whatever we’re having for dinner and then I say “how about some fruit?” and he gets all jazzed and plows his way through an orange or a pear or a handful of blueberries. I have no idea how this dessert for the boy tradition started but I’m going to run with it. I miss having a little something fun at the end of dinner and I think it could be something that I look forward too at the end of a long day of healthy eating. So today’s resolution: make dessert. Fialonia and her French Chemist are coming for dinner tonight so first up on the make dessert list: blueberry and peach cobbler with cream. Tomorrow I’m thinking something with apples…

Not that I currently buy bad food. Because I really don’t. Oh certainly the occasional bar of chocolate makes it’s way into our pantry but that hardly counts as bad food in any real sense. I mean, we don’t buy soda pop or cheesy poofs or bologna or sugary cereal or anything like that. Man, 6 year old Ezmy is disappointed in me. She was sure that once she was all grown up, she would eat nothing but Frosted Flakes, frozen mini quiches and bologna on white bread sandwiches. Another dream bites the dust, my dear. You’re not a ballerina either (and god knows how you could have been one on that diet).

No, I’m referring to the dilemma I briefly faced while at the market this afternoon. I was thinking about making a tasty recipe for A. this evening – some sort of special dinner that might make him feel appreciated and something that would fill him up enough that when he went out later to watch UFC with his pals, he wouldn’t need to buy a second crap meal at a pub somewhere. I was considering a pork chop dish that I had seen in an old Jamie Oliver book of mine – pork chops with herby potatoes, roasted pears and parsnips, topped off with minty bread sauce. Sounded delish even to someone who is not in favour of eating dead pig. Anyway, I found myself in the butcher section second guessing the purchase of some very reasonably priced antibiotic-free pork chops and trying to figure out how to turn the recipe I had in mind into a tofu one, which would have pleased both Budsie and myself but would have likely left A. wanting more.

There are many times like this. Times when I replace pricier basmati rice with less pricey and much less fun long grain brown rice. Times when I skip fancy ingredients in things and improvise (note: table cream and double cream are not the same thing). Times when I consider adding a third vegetable to a dish and opt against it because we need to space the food out evenly over the week. All of this is lame. And, with a new commitment to eat at home whenever possible, largely unnecessary. I’ve done the math and those nights we used to go out for dinner simply must add up to extra tasty goodies from the market. So today’s resolution is to buy the good food we like to eat. Within reason of course. I mean, I’d love to drown all of my food in truffle oil and scatter saffron about willy nilly but that hardly seems productive or necessary. However, on nights when my man wants (or I think he might want) pork chops, then pork chops he shall have. I made A. his manly meal this evening and he loved it. Tomorrow I’m going to bake him a tasty peach pie, a piece or two of which he can bring on his work trip. Because I love feeding my boys good tasty food and I refuse to believe that having a bit less money means we must be forced to eat no-name mac and cheese in a box and soggy vegetables. Or some such awfulness.

Update on previous resolutions: Budsie spent the first night in his big boy room with relatively little issue. He woke up once but was easily rocked back to sleep. Excellent. He was rewarded with a special Saturday breakfast of soft-boiled egg with toast and roasted asparagus soldiers. I, on the other hand, spent the majority of the wee hours of the morning staring at the baby monitor waiting for…what exactly? I don’t know. Explosion sounds? Bear attacks? Sigh.