It's the thought that counts - right?

Today.... was a big day - well almost.

Last week I received an email at work letting people know that Canadian Blood Services would be on location at my office this morning. I decided that having never given blood before, this would be a convenient time to do so, as when I was pregnant, I learned that I have rare blood type that would be very useful to blood donation banks. So... last week I called 1 888 TO DONATE, and booked myself in.

The lady I spoke with on the phone got a little excitement in her voice when I told her it would be my first time donating... she ran through a welcome spiel with me, and was happy to take my request for an appointment.

So this AM, having not thought much more about it, I got a reminder call from the mobile blood lab coordinator reminding of my appointment. Having forgot about it, I was happy to get the call, and suited up with my work bb and a bottle of water for the appointment.

I was actually quite impressed with this mobile lab, which is essentially a decked out bus made into a mini hospital, complete with a waiting area, check-in counter, private consultation room, 4 donation station chairs, a snack and refreshment stand, and an entrance and an exit.

I was able to use the waiting area, and the check-in counter, and when I mentioned my blood type, they're faces lit up as apparently its in short supply! However... after doing the necessary paper work, and getting my finger pricked to check my iron - the bus derailed right then and there (not physically - if that's what your thinking!). My iron level came back at 12.4 and guess what level you need to be able to donate? Yep - 12.5 and greater.

Are you KIDDING me?

1 point shy of my first donation.

I should have actually known my iron would be an issue as I had low iron during pregnancy and post-pregnancy it didn't get a whole lot better. I have been put on over the counter iron supplements, but have been a little negligent in taking them regularly, so it really is my own fault. But turns out.. the nurse says even if I had been taking the supplements, they wouldn't really want me as donor anyways. Apparently, they like an all natural candidate, not someone who is hopped up on supplements!

So... basically they talked to me about how to get my iron up to an acceptable level without supplements, and encouraged me to come back in 56 days to try again.

Heading into the appointment I was feeling pretty good about myself... but coming out a little disappointed!

However... I'm thinking it was the though that counts - right?

Move over Suzie!

So... Sunday was a big day of experimenting in the kitchen.

I say this because, I made two menu items that have NEVER been made at our house before.... and they both turned out rather well, so I feel as though it's just another notch on the ol' 'wife of the year' belt.

(*Pause for a moment... while my fellow ladies pipe down from hooting and hollering*).

On Saturday while grocery shopping, I came across baby back ribs on sale. Although I have never made ribs before of any type, I do enjoy the baby back ribs from places like Baton Rouge, Montana's, etc. I decided that for $8 I could take the chance and experiment with my culinary skills - if it didn't work out, we could always order pizza or Chinese!

Sunday afternoon, I started preparing the ribs, boiling the fat off of them, and then glazing them up with a sweet n' sassy sauce... I wrapped them up in foil tightly and began cooking them ... I re-glazed them up after about 45 minutes, and continued cooking them... they smelt delicious and to my surprise, turned out great! I added a little shrimp, some salad, and steamed veggies to our plates, and we had ourselves a very. good. meal!

However... obviously the meal wasn't overly satisfying as we were both wanting something sweet about an hour after supper. To this end, I got on the hunt for a (keyword:) simple Apple Crisp recipe, and thanks to Grandma Wilson's old church cookbook we were off and running. Within 25 minutes, PC had peeled and sliced up 6 apples, I mixed up the cinnamon and sugar, and the stuff for the topping, and by 9 pm we were happily eating apple crisp and ice cream while watching some Sunday night TV in our basement!

I have seen a lot of people make apple crisp over the years, but never paid any attention to exactly 'how' it was made. The fact that, in addition to my baby back ribs success, I took the notion to 'whip up' some apple crisp has me thinking I pretty much just stole the title of Suzie Homemaker right off of Suzie's back!

Yes... this post really has no logic behind it, other than to let me brag about my culinary excellence! But c'mon you have to agree you feel pretty darn good when you try out some new recipes and they turn out fantastic... please let me wallow in my success for just a few more moments!

Has anyone made anything they are extra proud of lately...? Please do share your success stories!

Seriously, don't read anything into this one...

Here's a burning question...

If a married woman with no children orders/makes a non-alcoholic drink in the presence of others who are drinking alcohol, why does everyone in the room, minus her husband, assume that she's pregnant?

Please do explain...

I guess I should be slapping myself first - because I too make this assumption (in my head) when I know that friends are on the baby wagon - but I don't go as far as to state so boldly to them 'NOT DRINKING, ARE YOU PREGNANT?' or giving them the 'ARE YOU PREGNANT' look as they take a sip of their non-alcoholic beverage.

I feel as though the fact that I am contemplating pregnancy makes me think that I should be laying off a few things, drugs and alcohol being at the top of this list (I like to throw in drugs, as if I am some bad ass!). This by no means translates into I am pregnant, or I might be pregnant - but its sort of the first step in a long list of things I think is a courtesy thing to do for your body before trying to get pregnant.

The problem is... I feel as though every time I order water or a pop instead of my regular 'triple vodka, lemon-cranberry in a short glass' - the crowd takes note of this and baby speculation immediately goes off the charts.

Is it a crime to be considered a woman who drinks alcohol, yet just doesn't feel like 'a drink'?

Although I am trying to drink less ... I feel as though I have to throw in the odd glass of wine or beer just to put people's minds to rest. As soon as the crowds sees an alcoholic beverage in the hand of the 'party in question' they all let out a mental sigh of relief - as if they can all get back to having a good time now that they don't have to be watching (like a hawk) the drinking habits of 'the party in question'.

I can just see the setting at a party after 'the party in question' takes her first drink of alcohol

• chatter goes up in the room about 40%,
• everyone starts to let loose,
• the night is salvaged!

Okay... perhaps it is not as bad as my precept ions indicate, and perhaps all of this could be avoided for the 'party in question' if she didn't have a reputation of being 'a drinker' or 'a Bellerose' for that matter (inside family joke) - but seriously, all reputations aside, let's learn to cut these 'young married women with no kids' a break when they aren't drinking - as I learned early on in my lifetime, we should never assume anything!

If a baby is on board (which in my case, is definitely NOT), I am sure the 'party in question' will come clean with the info, when she's ready to - right ladies?

NOTE: Bonne Fête à Monsieur Julien Benoit. Le résidant de St. Albert qui célèbre un grand nombre d'anniversaires aujourd'hui - tellement beaucoup, je ne peux pas compter cela haute ! Just kidding Jules -- mes souhaits sont vraiment sincères!

When to make the switch?

Here were are... the first week of October, and I am still in sandal mode... still loving the fact that I can still slip on a pair of sandals with ease and simplicity to walk out the door.

However, the mornings are starting to get a bit more chilly - and the initial thought has crossed my mind to make the switch to my boots, or dressy shoes with nylons/dress socks - but I feel like once I make the switch, I can't go back to my precious summer sandals until next spring.

It's weighs heavy on mind, I drive to work with the heat blasting out on my toes until there are almost on fire. I feel as though I should have boots on, but then in the afternoon, I can hardly wait to blast the A/C on them as they are somewhat sweaty (gross, I know, but it's true!).

I guess my reluctance to make the switch also factors in the French pedicure I have, which has held up surprisingly well over the last month, making me think: why ruin a good looking set of toes by covering them up in a pair of boots?

I thought by wearing my sandals I was still with the majority of the woman out there, but after Saturday's outing to the Sens game, I notice a lot of woman are torn on the issue. I would say it was a 50/50 split at the game. Half of the women were in their sandals, the other half wearing boots or more winter-like shoes.

Of course there are extremes to the winter boot/summer sandal debate. I, of course had on jeans, sandals, and thin 3/4th length sleeved sweater - other girls took the 'summer's still alive' theory right to the edge in their mini skirts, white tank tops, and surfer flip-flops - woe-la - it's not 110 degrees out. Then we had the other half of the crowd with the fall type hats on, heavy sweaters or leather coats on, with nice sturdy boots, ready to truck through 12 inches of fresh snow.

I felt as though I was mediocre, the outfit I was wearing would have looked fine with either boots or sandals, but I chose sandals feeling that I should try to get as much sandal use of the nice weather until its absolutely unbearable.

What do you think? Are you wearing your fall/winter boots yet, or are you still riding out the sandal weather - holding onto the bitter end?

Mini-van birth control meets the vanilla latte

This past weekend, PC and I travelled North to attend a funeral for a close relative who passed away after his courageous battle with cancer. We got the news late Thursday night of his passing, and we made some quick travel plans to attend the services. My cousin, who also lives just outside of Ottawa, was also planning to make the trek for the service, so we decided to all travel together in her mini-van, as she was bringing her two young boys with her, while her husband was out of town for the weekend.

These boys are what I consider to be good kids. Yes, they are boys, and somewhat a little more rambunctious than girls may be - but overall they fall into the 'good kids' category.

So...why, has spending 16 hours in a mini-van with these little munchkins, have me feeling like I am on a new form of birth control?

Well... mainly because I am not sure how my cousin does it? Seriously.. her little guys are on the go from the time they get up in the morning to the time they go to bed at night: playing toys, eating, drinking, crying, talking, eating, running, screaming, napping, eating, watching TV... did I mention eating?

In all seriousness, I am not sure how she functions every day of the week. I am exhausted today, just from the car ride home, and I did not participate in putting them to bed, bathing them, brushing their teeth, reading them stories, or getting up with them this AM, choosing their clothes, preparing and packing their snacks, dropping them off to daycare, etc. All I did this morning was get up, shower, grab a coffee, and drag myself through the entrance of my office. That in itself was exhausting enough for me, let alone even thinking about two other human beings that I would need to be responsible for... and at the end of the day still managing to be a fun-loving, good-hearted person - like she is.

Yet... having said all of this, I can see how rewarding parenting is for her - her kids are funny, outgoing, smart, not shy, polite, adventurous, hugable and lovable - which are all the reasons why parenting must be so much fun. I am sure when you are actually a parent, the rewards most definitely outweigh the drawbacks, but somehow at this stage, I am having trouble deciding if parenting is going to be my cup of tea?

I guess that's it... parenting is probably not a cup of tea, not even close - not simply, not easy, not cheap, but I am hoping, for me, it's more like a like a vanilla latte, complex, expensive, yet soooooo good once you actually indulge in it.

Yes... these are my hopes, mini-van birth control drowned out by the taste of a vanilla latte.
I guess this is a good excuse to get over to Starbucks, now isn't it!

Hair troubles!

Why is it that when you get your hair done at the hair dresser, you come out looking like a million bucks... but the next day when you get out of the shower you look like a poodle on display at the local human society?

Honestly... I love getting my hair cut and styled, probably because I just love having my hair played with in general. Going to the spa and paying someone to shampoo and massage my scalp is my idea of a very good time.

On top of the scalp massage, the stylist then combs through my hair multiple times, working in some product between the cut and drying stages. I absolutely love it! By the time she is all finished, I have a ton of self-confidence, and after leaving half my life savings in the cash register, I walk out of there with the biggest smile on face, which lasts well into the evening, and even comes back the next morning as I glance in the mirror, pre-shower.

However... the fun stops there when I must turn on the shower and unwilling wet my head as part of my daily cleansing routine. As I look in the mirror, post shower, the smile fades drastically, especially when I attempt to regain that vibrant shine, bounce, and style I left the salon with the previous day.

It's so frustrating... I go from LOVING my new cut, to hating my attempt to recreate the hair magic (while telling the mirror to #&$% off a few 100 times). And to make matters worse, while I spend 45 minutes on my hair, PC showers, shaves, insert third 's' activity here, brushes his teeth, and hip checks me out of the way for his 30 second gel job - GRRRRRRRRR!

I don't have a difficult style... it's a layered cut, versatile, and somewhat trendy... but:

WHY on earth can't I recreate what the stylist did the day before? WHY can't I operate the round brush AND the blow dryer at the same time... producing the sleek, straight, smashing, non-puffy, non-frizzy, non-average look with every section of hair? And while I am on this rant, WHY is it that stylists never use a hair straightener... they only use the round brush to achieve the straight look?

In the back of my head I know that hair styling is a profession, and that is why I go to a salon in the first place, because I want a professional look - but for the love of god, I would do community service, give blood, or whatever it takes, if I could just get the hang of a half decent blow drying technique that didn't make me swear at the world before I considered myself satisfied with the appearance of my hair!

Have you heard enough yet? Cause I could go on? Perhaps let's hear from you... does anyone else suffer from this hair styling frustration? Time to weight in ladies (and metro-sexual males) ... what are your hair troubles?

First order of business of the New Year!

Take Down & Put Away Christmas Decorations: þ (check)

What a job... I dreaded doing it for a 4 days, but finally I got around to it Friday night. Yesterday was spent doing last minute touch ups for normal everyday life... and trying to find a few everyday items that I put in that special spot for storing over Christmas.... I am sure I will come across them eventually (I am sooo my mother's daughter)!

Now I sit back and look around at the place and it looks a bit empty, like it needs something... but I dunno what! I think this is where husbands start to hate their wives... when 2 months ago, the place was completely FINE the way it was with the same decorating style & furniture, but now... miraculously it NEEDS SOMETHING!

I have had the urge to paint another bedroom for a while, I have a few paint chips on the wall... and soon, very soon, I will choose the perfect colours, but until then I like to sit back and stare at the rest of the place, dreaming of what I would loooooooove to do to my house (as the list is very long)!

Does anyone else get like this after Christmas?
Why must we women want to change our houses all the time?