Monthly Archives: September 2011

my vows, two weeks minus a day


“We began as friends. I’m so glad for that. There was no pretense for being the ideal partner, no showing of only our very best in order to snag a long term commitment before the flaws and quirks were let out. It was honest from the start. I can stand here today and run through the cliched promises, for better, for worse, sickness and health, but these things don’t need to be said. You and I have been through the tests of all of those vows over the past 5 years.

When you were sick, I took care of you, not because you needed me but because I needed you. When I dealt with the past, coming close to falling apart, you didn’t hold me up… you held my hand and walked me through the stress. When things are best, when there are loud sushi dinners with friends, quiet nights watching cheesy movies or private jokes and monkeys and titmice, making stupid faces and the joys of unique finds in yarn shops and rock concerts. I know those exist because it’s us together.

I thought long and hard about the promises I needed to make today, considered my words carefully and thought about what is really important. It comes down to these. I promise that I will try always to be the person I am now, the person you know, not to change too much or too fast or to stop laughing and sometimes rolling my eyes and groaning at your jokes. I promise to fall apart once in a while, to remind you how much I need you to bring me back down to earth. I promise to read your articles when you need a second set of eyes. I promise that the weight of the yarn in our house will never be greater than the weight of the car in our garage. I promise to care for you when you are sick, or hurt, even if it is self-inflicted and two o’ clock in the morning and you’ve busted my favorite bottle of wine on the way down. I promise that I will always be there when you need me, I will always be a partner to you, a parent to our children. I promise to be your friend, to respect and support you, and to share life with you throughout the years.”


It was a wedding day miracle.


During the past few weeks, my sister has repeatedly said one thing.

“Stop worrying if the dress will fit, you always drop ridiculous amount of weight when you are super stressed”

I wasn’t super stressed though, I was busy, focused, but rarely stressed.

Friday I got on to the scale after more than a week of avoiding it. 9 or 10 days without checking my weight and I was super worried.

I got on my scale, looked at the number and said “Fuck. My scale is broken” and so I tucked it away and went about my day hoping I hadn’t gained any weight that week.

My dress fit like a beautiful glove (less the slightly loose tuck of armpit skin that I hate) and the evening was magical.

Sunday morning I pulled out my scale and stepped on it once more. Thinking that maybe Friday had been a blip, maybe now it would give me the right weight.

So I stepped on. And I got a weight that was 1lb less than Friday.

I went to a friend’s and tried her scale too. I knew now that my scale wasn’t broken.

By some miracle of wedding magic.

I lost 12 lbs in 10 days.

Our wedding


included the following


religious people

naked breasts

thumb wrestling

heart felt sentiments

drinking, dancing, merriment

aliens, zombies and computers taking over the world.

In short, it was awesome.

And now I’m married

10 years


By now, I’m married (I hope). I’ve written this post in advance of the date because I always get emotional when I talk about it.

I have so many conflicted feelings about 9/11.  When everything else in the world was getting so much scarier, I was getting the phone call to let me know that my life was going to change forever. Just after the second plane crashed into the WTC, I learned I was pregnant with my daughter, H.

My doctor’s office called me, I was so happy about the news on the phone and at the same time I was watching Canter Fitzgerald collapse, wondering if someone I knew was inside. Blessedly, I learned the next morning he had schedule the day off… but he hasn’t been the same since that day. Feeling overjoyed that I was going to have a baby. Feeling terrified that the world had just changed forever.

It was so conflicted and still is. I remember crying, watching people jump from the building in, I don’t know… an attempt to live? To make it go faster knowing they weren’t going to survive? Trying to relax because even at 4 weeks along, I worried about the stress on the baby.

I worked at RIM at the time, and weeks post 9/11 our department became responsible for determining which blackberries were lost in 9/11 and who still needed to be billed for their service. We had to ping each blackberry registered to the trade centre address. Each ping would result in one of 2 times. A date of 9/11, or a current date. Each 9/11 date caused nausea for me. I was 2 months pregnant, heavily emotional when it came to the wrong brand of butter… as you can imagine how 9/11 pings just about did me in if Gay-lea butter made me weepy. By the time I left my job, I couldn’t take it.

I wish I was still as blissfully naive as I was when I woke up on September 11.

I’m sure this isn’t the post wedding post you expected, and there will be pictures and word of happiness later tonight if I can steal away from packing up the last of our honeymoon bags.

Until then, hug the ones you love. Respect the people you hate. Saying a prayer for those you would harm or would seek to harm you. We’re all on this planet together, and the pain we all cause needs to stop.



we ran through our dress rehearsal

it went… as planned

maid of honour and I lost our nonsense at the alter, broke out laughing, pweph, that better not happen tomorrow.

no one should say the words ‘balls’ ‘coming’ or insert while we’re being serious.

we are 13 year old boys trapped in the bodies of grown women.

hugged my dad

we don’t hug a lot in our family, so it’s always awkward and weird… i’m not sure why

i never hesitate to hug my children, but adults, especially of the related variety, throw me off base a little with a hug

i suppose i should get over that tomorrow (which is now, I might add, today), there will be lots of hugs to go around i’m sure

my dad and I are dancing tomorrow.

i’m not one for slow dances. we’re dancing to paul simon

‘you can call me al’

no, i’m not kidding

anyway, lights are strung

dresses are pressed

shoes and lined up waiting

wine is chilling

vendors are paid


the first cut is the deepest


This might be too much information for you. Considered yourself warned.

I called my GP yesterday to schedule an appointment to talk about the loose skin issue.

I am no where near my end goal of 145lbs, only about halfway there from my start at 298lbs.

I know that the referral takes about another year and I need to put myself on a solid time time. The loose stomach skin is causing problems. I always thought I wouldn’t be terribly concerned with the appearance of it (which I’m not really) but I’m finding that I can’t lay on my stomach without pain. I now have the beginnings of empty, flappy bib skin on my hips. There still is a lot of fat in the pouch below my belly button, fat that has to go before I can be considered for any type of plastic procedure. It now hangs enough that I have to religiously baby power my skin each day and even then, I’m quite uncomfortable each day. I’m at the point where I wear a support garment to avoid serious discomfort a lot of the time.

In Ontario, I will meet the criteria to have surgery covered by health insurance. I feel a little guilt about this. I don’t think the tax payers should be responsible for the remains of my poor eating choices, at the same time I can hardly justify seeing a private plastic surgeon for a tummy tuck to do the same job that a general surgeon can do in a hospital.

Either way, my first appointment with my GP is set for November.