Fussy eater.

Picture it.

This sweet little blond curly haired, gorgeous blue eyed 4 year old girl is sitting at a 70's style Formica kitchen table, trying to finish her supper... the meal her mom made for her, that came with the "sit there until it is all gone. Or else." warning.

Me, at about 3 years old...so you get the idea of how flipping cute I was.

(not sure what happened to my hair- it's so dark now!)

Ugh. So I sat there while mom bustled around getting ready to go to out. I pushed the remaining green peas around, and around..........and around some more on my plate, spearing one lonely cold pea every now and then and forcing it down.

Finally, after what seemed like hours (but was likely only minutes), I counted the peas left on my plate. 27. I couldn't do it anymore. It was torture. And I had had enough.


So I did what any bright, sweet cutie would do at the age of 4 (ish). I formed the peas into the number 27 on my plate, and carted it in to my mom as she was curling her hair in the washroom. I looked up at her with the plate on display in my hands and said "mom, I only have 27 peas left. Do I have to eat those?"



She, of course, couldn't keep a straight face and let me off the hook. This time.

Fast forward 6 years or so. We are no longer living in that basement apartment, mom has moved on to better jobs, Jules is about 8, and I'm about 10. And I still really. don't. like. vegetables. Don't get me wrong......I like corn, carrots, beets, and potatoes. I am a Newfoundlander, after all. But the rest of the veg? Blech.

Now I will tell you about the time mom had an old friend over for Sunday dinner and put broccoli on my plate. Despite my protests, she yelled at me to "eat it!" while I sat there teary-eyed loathing her. And that stupid little tree on my plate.
So I put the broccoli in my mouth, and promptly started to gag. Yes, gag.
Retch.
Choke.
Heave.
I seriously thought I was going to blow chunks all over the table.
In horror, my mother yells at me again, but this time telling me to "get away from the table and don't come back!"

Suffice it to say, I am not a huge fan of vegetables. Trust me, with every fibre of my being, I wish I was. I wish I didn't have to hide them on myself, and I wish that friends didn't have to omit them from recipes, or pulverize them into oblivion so that I can get them down my gullet without screwing up my face, and offering apologies galore.

There is a small part of me that blames it on my upbringing:

-being raised by a single parent, with a limited income, who didn't know then what she knows now.

-being geographically cut off from the freshest choices possible, due to being born on an island where the only things growing are root vegetables.

-ultimately not being exposed to a large variety of fruits and vegetables as a child........ for example, I am the same girl who thought pineapples came in a can, and cherries came in Dole fruit cocktail cups until I was about 25 years old.

There is another part of me that just accepts that all you veggie lovers have different taste buds than mine, plain and simple. In the same way that I have dark curly hair, you have straight blond hair. In the same way that you might enjoy the taste of wine, dill pickles, raw tomatoes or cheesecake, I can think of at least a dozen other things I would rather eat. Like crackers, cheese, apples, eggs, almonds and chicken. Ho hum, I know.

I could write an entire post on Devil's Vegetables - the entire onion family and broccoli, of course. And yet another post on exotic in edibles, like pâté (cat food anyone?), olives, salmon, Dijon mustard, and shrimp - stuff I have tried and just can't stomach.

But I'll spare you the details. This time.

Have an awesome day!

xoxox

~J



It's a good thing I'm cute...

This is me. Trying not to smile.

Also, can I get a high five for the obvious decrease in cheek size?
And is it just me, or does my nose look smaller and my eyes look bigger?

So my girlfriend comes by my desk on Monday and asks me if I want to cross-border shop in upstate New York this weekend. Does a bear shit in the woods!?! Hell to the yes, I said!

And why would I take my sorta-hard-earned dollars south of the border, you ask? Why, Target, of course!!!

Anyways, it occurred to me last night that I probably need a valid passport to get over the river...sweet talk and tears simply won't do. This time.

Except that my passport expired in either January or February, so I spent the morning calling Canadian and U.S. border protection offices to find out if my slightly expired paperwork will do.

It will not.

Damn.

Me: Hey boss lady, are you okay with me leaving a little bit early today? I need to go get my passport renewed and the wait times are usually stupid long.

Boss lady: Sure. You can fill in the necessary paperwork and get paid out of your sick bank, or not - your choice.

I choose unpaid, and leave 2 hours early - rush to get new pictures taken, home to find the effing expired passport and paperwork that I filled out 6 weeks ago, beat it over to the office to join the other sheep kind people waiting in line, get assigned my number by government employee #1, and then take a seat to wait for that number to come up.

I wait. I watch Breaking Bad on my iPod. I wait some more. I check the board, 10 people left ahead of me. I wait some more. I sit, I watch and I wait.

D954! That's me! Skip on up to the wicket, snack in hand, stored the iPod in my giant purse, and here is how the conversation goes:

Me: Hello! How are you?

20 year old, hoodie-wearing, federal employee: I'm good thanks. What can I do for you today?

Me: I'd like to renew my passport, and I will have to pay the express fee as I plan to travel on Sunday.

Kid: Was this a last minute decision? Because express processing is typically reserved for family emergencies, deaths, humanitarian causes....


Me: Oh....I just wanted to do some cross border shopping for the day. So they won't approve it and I won't be able to go?

Kid: I can't say for sure, but it isn't likely to get approved.

Kid: Ummmm....miss, can I ask you a question? Why are you renewing your passport today?

With a look on his face like this:

Me: I don't understand the question. Am I missing something? To go shopping on the weekend, remember?

Kid: But your passport doesn't expire until January. 2013. See? Right here?

Me: (while dying laughing)

Me: Sweet Christ. Good thing I'm cute. 

How was your day!?

Hope it was awesome!

~J

Temptations...

Everyday that I am at work and leave the cafeteria without buying one of these cookies is a victory, as far as I'm concerned.


Everyone must choose one of two pains: The pain of discipline or the pain of regret. -Jim Rohn


Have an awesome day!

xoxox
~J

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Dear Jennifer...

This letter really has been a long time coming. Maybe it is something you should have written a long time ago. Ummmm....except you have really only learned most of these lessons in the last few years. Which is better late than never, and thankfully sooner than many people learn these same things, I suppose.


Consider this a gentle, realistic reminder that you are on the right path...a love letter, of sorts. To you, with love from me. Forever. And ever.

Jennifer, it really is time that you started focusing on your best and most positive qualities, and even your best physical features. When you look in the mirror, stop! focusing on every lump, bump and squishy bit that you hate. Instead, focus on how strong you are and embrace your new found curves. Be thankful for your pretty blue eyes, well manicured hands, and magical hair. You struggle with this concept more than anyone could know, buuuut *gulp*..........you are beautiful. Believe it. Period.

After all the years that you have spent beating yourself up, convincing yourself that you are not good enough, pretty enough, smart enough, thin enough, funny enough, or lovable enough, the signs are all around you that absolutely none of these things are true.


You are enough. Everything that you need, you already have.


In the spirit of taking your own stellar never-ending-advice-for-others, you need to write down the best words that people have used to describe you, and never forget them. On the days you feel low - the days that have the potential to take you down - try really really hard to see yourself the way others see you.....funny, sexy, beautiful, loving, strong, generous, pretty, kind, good listener, friend, capable, talented, curvy, warm, honest, challenging, smart cookie, awesome, inspirational.


Think of all the positive things that you do in your everyday life: Laughing, loving, kissing, smooching, hugging, caring, teaching, smiling, listening, coaching, inspiring, learning, growing, leading, squeezing, cheek-chewing, singing, dancing, forgiving and changing.


Think to the professionals that you have in your life who refer to you! as athletic. It is time that you stopped thinking that athleticism can be entirely defined by waist size. And even if society doesn't agree? It is really time that you stopped measuring your self worth against their standards and definitions for even a fraction of a second. Just stop. We both know that your time is much better spent elsewhere. You just concentrate on being happy, thankful, and driven. The rest will fall into place.

There are countless people who love you. Right now. Exactly as you are! They don't limit their love, reliability, or loyalty based on what the scale or the tag on your jeans says. They don't see your flaws in the same blinding light you see them. They will not ever turn their backs on you if you never lose another pound. Feel this in your heart, and let it sink deeply into your stubborn head. These amazing people will still be beside you and rooting for you every step of the way. They love you, and that love is unconditional. They aren't going anywhere, and none of them will ever abandon you. As hard as it might be, you need to trust this.

Deep rooted negative beliefs and fears held you captive for a very long time, and still come back to visit every now and then...but you now know that you can kick life's ass when you put your mind to it. When you focus on your goals and do the work, you know that you can do ANYTHING and anyone who regards your strength as a negative trait isn't worthy of you.

Be proud that you are someone who challenges life, instead of being the kind of person who coasts through - never changing for the better. Be proud that you are no longer someone who plays the victim, or only feels valued when she is invited somewhere and has a full social calendar. Be proud of your ability to help others, and inspire them to live their own great life. Being a catalyst for change in someone's life, is an amazing gift.

Stand up for yourself, you are not a doormat. Draw boundaries wherever you are comfortable - they are for you, and you don't owe explanations to anyone else about them. You have nothing to be ashamed of...you own your mistakes, and have turned every one of them in to lessons. Know that you have come a long way, and that you have grown into someone you should be proud of.

You are loved. You are lovable. You are beautiful.

Don't ever forget it.

xoxox
~J

Again, I am no wallflower...

Shy isn't exactly a word I would use to describe myself. Not now, not ever.

I was never the wallflower, never quiet, never one to hold her tongue.

What I was could only be classified as uncomfortably self conscious. I would go anywhere and do anything with people who I already knew. People who already knew me. People who I felt comfortable around. People I wasn't afraid of being judged by. It was just more comfortable and easy that way.

I didn't make efforts to make new friends, I let new friends find me. And I can only ever recall approaching someone first out of absolute necessity and an overwhelming feeling of loneliness when I first left Newfoundland 11 years ago.

And while I have no regrets - because I know that I needed those walls at that time and I wasn't ready to take them down - I am not oblivious to the fact that I likely missed out on meeting some really cool people, and experiencing some really awesome moments every time I said 'no' to an invitation.

How I came to realize this was by being asked to assist with the make-up department for the local showing of RENT here in Ottawa. Years ago, I would have doubted my abilities, and more than likely declined the request because I would have felt....out of place, self conscious, not 'cool' enough, the opposite of awesome, too fat... I would have let my weight, and how I felt about myself keep me from taking part in something new...something awesome...something I now feel honoured to play even the smallest role in.

Nobody would have ever known that I was feeling those things. Not a single friend would have known that. But it is the truth.

And what a shame that would be if I were still choosing to hide instead of stand out. If I were choosing to eat and wallow instead of help others and take part in something meaningful and big, and full of positive energy.

I think this is why I like signing up for walks, runs, and races. And why I like coaching running clinics. It pushes me outside my comfort zone every time I have to introduce myself to someone new and talk in front of a group. It fills me with ridiculous amounts of positive energy whenever I am surrounded by kind, grateful, positive people...

Get out of your comfort zone! It's prettier out here, that's for sure. And as it turns out, people don't bite. Unless you ask them to, of course.

Have an awesome day!
xoxox
~J

Me first.

I am a giver. Always have been, always will be. I like this about myself.


Except that I used to take care of everyone else before I took care of myself. I would throw myself into the fire so that they wouldn't have to. I would nail myself to the cross and carry the burdens of those around me. I would get knee deep in their shit and fix it for them.... instead of fixing myself.

I gave, and gave, and gave until I had nothing left for myself. I wasn't in tune with myself and my feelings to be able to identify when I needed to reel things in, take it easy for awhile, and it resulted in me feeling resentful, angry, bitter, lonely, sad, tired...but wearing a smile anyways! See where I am going with this? Nowhere good.

Dare I even admit this? Damn it! I think I was a martyr. I shudder at the thought of that, because it is a quality I greatly dislike in others...but safe to say, that was me. Giving, and then complaining about giving. Doing for others, and then complaining about that too. Oh! And never ever accepting help. God noooooo. That would have made way too much sense.


My ridiculously busy calendar used to be a crystal clear picture of avoidance: greasy breakfast dates with friends, errands, shopping, wing night dates, avoiding, listening to others, helping others, ice cream dates, movies, tv shows, pub nacho dates, sleepovers, friends with benefits, fixing other peoples problems, pizza dates, buying way too many new purses, hot dog dates, pedicure dates, greasy lunch dates...and so the story goes.


I was giving because I liked the feeling of being 'needed' and it gave me a false sense of importance.
I was giving with the underlying hope that I would get back as much in return. Without ever having to ask for it. Wtf?! 

Now my calendar is a crystal clear slightly frosty (I am still learning) image of my priorities: work, love, friends, me time, much healthier food choices, walking dates, running dates, gym dates, coaching Running Room clinics (starting another Learn To Run starting March 19th), Film Club events, road trips, helping, supporting, volunteering, listening.... After I go to the gym and do something good for me first.

I am still a giver - this won't change - but I try to think of that stupid important airplane rule - putting my oxygen mask on myself, before helping anyone else!

And nowadays, when I give of myself, my time, money, energy or love, I don't expect anything back in return - because that isn't giving. It is giving with strings attached. Not. Fair.

No stone left unturned, I tell you...


Have an AWESOME day!
xoxox
~Jenn