The week after

Last week I turned 47 and posted a list of new lessons and happy events. Since then I have been feeling melancholic.

The final straw was waking up this morning and finding almost 6 feet of  #1 (the 11 pounder) at the sink SHAVING! This led to a teary panicked Oh-my-god-so-many-milestones-I-cannot-believe-this-much-time-has-passed moment while hugging said teenager and watching his eyes roll to the back of his head in the mirror. He was however, kind enough to indulge me in my hug and tears, he stood still without swaning (swaning: the behavior displayed by all teenagers in which they turn their head and neck AWAY from the kissing mother) despite the fact that I know he was thinking: "Jeezuzz christ you lunatic woman!!!".

I have to say that when I was younger and thought about getting older I NEVER thought of being almost 50. That is not to say that I thought I would be dead, it's just that the thought of aging did not  EVER occur to me. I thought about some milestones, frankly there were mostly academic related milestones like high school, University  medical school etc.. Even marriage and having children were not too pressing in my mind. I remember my father saying once that "I was too smart to get married" so I kind of assumed if it happens, it happens.

People used to talk to me about childhood, adolescence, early adulthood but they didn't really talk to me about aging. My mother never said "Oh when you are older you are going to LOVE the changes your body experiences (that little bit of advice was given to me when I became an adolescent). Or "Prepare yourself because one day you will find yourself in front of the bank machine and you will not be able to recall the PIN you have been using for the last 5 years." I know, I sound like I'm 80 and I am not, but let's say it: aging sucks in general EXCEPT for the self confidence and experience it brings. End. Of.

After much pondering I have decided that aging is a process that starts with time that is now pointed by other people's, my children in this case, milestones. I mean it's not like I'm going to get learn to drive or get a driver's licence or find my first girlfriend/boyfriend or experience my first kiss or marry or have my first child. Been there, done that.

So I've been wondering, what are the after 47 personal milestones? ................... Deafening silence ............  Grandchildren? Menopause? Affairs? Divorces? Second marriages? Botox? More silence. Retirement? For me that would be death I cannot imagine not doing what I love and the happiness and self-fulfilment it brings me. Yikes! What then?

I am now positively sure that this mindful moment of YIKES! is when middle aged out-of-shape individuals decide they need to climb Kilimanjaro or Everest, embark on a bungee jumping tour, make an attempt on the North Pole, do some base jumping, try downhill mountain biking (guilty), start running marathons (also guilty) or cook themselves in hot yoga (again guilty).

So ... my milestones list:
1) Start the adolescent Fragile X trials
2) Run the half marathon in support of Fragile X fundraising in June
3) Try not to forget stuff

Lofty goals eh? All very trivial but really folks .......... what else is there?

THE GREAT FABRICIO

There is this guy in Vancouver, his name is Dennis "Chip" Wilson. Yes, the very famous Chip. No other than one of the founders of the Lululemon brand of clothing. Now, I am not a great fan of him mostly because his clothes fit only the very slim (every once in a while I can slide myself into a size 12 - his largest size, which in the real world is a size 4 btw). Anyway, I give him kudos for having a new idea that has entire cities full of women in yoga pants as "daily wear" while he becomes a gazijillionaire.

ANYWAY all that to say that Chip sponsors this great annual race called the "Chip ain't dead yet memorial race". The reason I love this race is because he has decided to be celebrated BEFORE he is no longer around. Very original eh? I AM a great fan of telling people how great they are while they can still hear it. My grandmother used to say "EN vida, hazlo y dilo EN vida" which loosely translates into: "IN life, do it and say  it IN life".

So I'm  going to do it IN LIFE right here .....

November 2nd, Day of the Dead, the day my younger brother, THE GREAT FABRICIO was born. He is turning 43 and I have been around for all of those years. I do not remember the day he came home, I should. since I was 5 by then, but maybe it was not such a momentous event, there were two of us in the house already. He came with a funny name, I am the 4th Elena in my household (greatgrandma, grandma, mother and I, all Elenas), my middle brother was named after my father Jose Luis and then Fabricio.

Fabricio ... huh? what? Where did that come from? The story goes that my mother liked the name from a Stendhal novel she had read, The Charterhouse of Parma. Obviously the loooooong line of nerdiness began many years ago. Anyway an odd name to add to our very Mexican family but he has grown into it's uniqueness.

I'll tell you a funny story about his name since obviously he too felt the brunt of it's unusualness. Fabricio actually "changed" his name when he was about age 5 or 6 years of age while we were on a family trip to Chichen-Itza. This was done because he could not find one of those pens that the Maya decorate with thread and have your name on it. The name he chose ..... ready for this one? Sisebuto!!!! YEP! Sisebuto! This child could have gone conventional, there were plenty of Jesus (I think this should have been his first choice, the name comes with some heavy duty history!), Jose, Carlos and Manuel pens but no, he chose Sisebuto. You see THAT name we could easily find on a pen. If your child thinks that Sisebuto is a better name than Fabricio you know you are in trouble. To put the icing on the cake afterwards at home in the photo album from the trip and in his 5 year old print he wrote "This is the day I changed my name to Sisebuto"

As a child all I remember him doing is playing lots of Lego, being obsessed with Star Wars, the Mutant Ninja Turtles, Power Rangers, American Football (an affliction inherited from my father) and soccer (an affliction inherited by all Mexicans). I also remember him pretending to be every character in every movie we ever saw, Rocky after we saw that. Luke after Star Wars and many many others. He was a pretty good egg and people noticed, he even won the camper of the year award - The Order of Kanasatka at Camp Quinebarge. As an adolescent I remember MORE soccer. Every Saturday he would play early in the morning and he would wake me up with the loud sound of his cleats on the marble stairs. As an adult he managed a well deserved Law degree and additional studies in Georgetown. He's pretty smart ... almost as smart as his sister.

Now at age 43, he is losing his hair, he has gained and lost a few pounds a few times, he is witty, funny and a techie (I am currently on the hunt for his iPhone 5). He is a SHOPPER! yes a MALE shopper. I know you thought they didn't exist eh? Every time he goes on a trip he shops, a LOT, every trip requires a new suitcase.  He loves watches (if you are ever in need of a gift for him, there you go). He eats in very small bites, loads his fork with little samples of everything on the plate like a plane loading passengers. He takes a loooong time to eat dessert and I mean a very long time - he ENJOYS his desserts!!! He still LOVES soccer and has been known to have his children say little white lies so that he does not have to answer the phone when I call so that there are no soccer distractions when he is watching a game. As a father he is pretty cool and wise.

As my current 43 year old Day of the Dead brother, he is witty, has a great sense of humour, he is generous,  he listens patiently during long phone conversations (maybe I give him reasons for the white lies eh?), gives good solid advice and often makes fun of me and my quirks.

SISEBUTO - HOLY CRAP!!! YOU. ARE. 43!!! HAPPY BIRTHDAY!! I THINK YOU ARE PRETTY DARN GREAT!!!

There I said it - IN LIFE!

Seriously? Seriously? She used the r-word????!!!

Ann Coulter called Mr. Barrack Obama a retard. Yes, she used the r-word. One of the most offensive, disgusting, hate promoting words in the English language. And I for one HATE her for it. I have never met the woman but someone who lacks the sensitivity to know that that word is NEVER to be used, absolutely NEVER to be used to insult ANYONE is APPALLING!

I wonder who raised her? Where are her parents? Even now as an adult if I was her mother I would personally go to her house and make her apologize not only to the President but to all children and adults with Special Needs and those without who were bullied with that word. AND I would wash her mouth out with soap while making a video of it and posting it on YouTube. PLUS make her walk around with a big sign that says "I am an insensitive bitch".

 I occasionally volunteer for the Special Olympics. I am trying to find the genetic causes of Intellectual Disabilities (ID) in order to provide support for these individuals and their families. I assess children with ID on a daily basis to recommend support to make their lives better in school and the community. I have been working with the Special Needs population for 20 years and every single one of these people deserves my respect, admiration, praise, approval and wonder. This woman needs to spend a few minutes with me to, as John Franklin Stephens puts it in his letter "See if you can walk away with your heart unchanged"  Mind you, I am so ANGRY that I would just yell at her.

I am in the process of raising two boys and I have made it very clear to them that THIS word (as well as some others) are NEVER to be used, NEVER EVER. This word carries hatred and MAY NOT under ANY circumstance be used as verbal weapon. I also stick to my guns when it comes to other people using this word. I'll have you know that I once pulled my car over, stopped driving and gave a very stern lecture to a friend of my 14 year old who dared use the r-word in my presence. Petey (not his real name) then apologized profusely and his mother later called me to THANK me for making sure this never happens again.

I URGE you to read John Franklin Stephens response to Ann Coulter (I have attached the link below). He is a young man with Down syndrome who has decided to educate this Coulter neanderthal with his letter and is ROCKING his extra 21 with eloquence and poise. BRAVO JOHN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/timothy-p-shriver/an-open-letter-to-ann-coulter_b_2012454.html

Maternal duties

A few weeks ago I posted on Facebook that one of my many maternal duties is to eat the ends of bread loaves. Nobody likes the crusty ends but mothers tend to be less selective. When we eat them we rationalize the experience with the well known "we-should-not-waste-any-food" mantra. We also think "I have to set an example for the children" or "If I eat them eventually they will realize these are not so bad and eat them themselves" Of course that NEVER happens. So the end result is a gaggle of chubby mothers who think they are pretty smart because they have conspired against children by eating their leftovers.

Since then I've been thinking, what else? What else is a purely maternal duty? Here is my list:

1) Give birth - but you already knew that.

2) Make sure the resident XYs have wearable underwear and socks

3) Purchase the household shampoo and conditioner

4) Buy stuff and  pack school lunches

5) Keep track of the toilet paper

6) Supervise the lights and darks sorting task of laundry (lest this mishap end in pink underwear)

7) Find STUFF! All stuff, general, every day, easy to find, STUFF! JUST STUFF!

8) Buy the corner thingies that keep sheets in place

9) Bring wine and cheese for all other mothers who frequent the school's lost and found bin. We have become very close.

10) Go around the house carrying loads of environmental guilt and turning off unused lights and electronics in order to preserve some kind of liveable planet for our children's children.

11) Crawl through car trunks - ok maybe that one is just me.

Go ahead, feel free to contribute your own. I am sure I have missed a few.

Thanksgiving mindful running.

Today I ran the yearly Granville Island tradition - the Turkey Trot. A race that I really like not only because it is mostly a flat route but also because the 10 kms follow the False Creek Sea Wall, one of the most gorgeous sights there are to behold. If you have not been to Vancouver, COME! walk it and find out for yourself.

Another good thing about the Turkey Trot is that it has THE best food at the end of the race. Today we were regaled with banana walnut loaf, bagabanoush, red pepper hummus, pistchio stuffed olives, assorted charcuterie and plenty of vegetables. A bachannalian feast. PLUS this year they offered massages, yes! massages! at the finish line!! Not bad eh?

Unfortunately, for me, I did not discover running until I was in my early forties (ugh! that fact that I can say early-forties and it applies to me makes me cringe) and I really wish I had come upon the happiness it brings much sooner. One of the best race time today was that of a 14 year old who ran the race in 37 minutes! I have to say I did not envy him his time (ok, maybe a little or even a lot) but I envied him the fact that he, at 14, is enjoying running already.

I am a slow runner, more snail than gazelle and I am not efficient at it. I have a short stride, extra arm movements and my breasts, see previous blogs to get informed :) and hips get in the way. I figure I am more like an overweight giraffe than cool sleek cheetah. Nonetheless I run. I once told my good friend "I think I should stop running I am so inefficient at it" and she answered "Oh, but do you love it?' Wise wise response. I do love it.

Why do I love it? For me every race has one incredibly pristine mindful moment that makes it all worth while. It usually occurs after the second kilometer when I have got my stride just right, I've establish a solid pace and the music is playing. I forget the aches and pains and it is all just happiness and clear mind. I stop dictating patient reports in my head, thinking of powerpoint slides that need to be made and stop making plans for the week. It is just me, music and running.

Picture today: I am running pretty much "alone" except for a few walkers pushing strollers because I was late for the start (which allowed me to have my own private starting gun!). I am going over the Burrard Street bridge, English Bay to the left, False Creek to the right, the sun shinning on the East and this song comes on http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QN_ze7QVYKg (listen to link).

Days they force you
Back under those covers
Lazy mornings they multiply
But glory's waiting
Outside your window
So wake on up from your slumber
And open up your eyes
Tongues are violent
Personal and focused
Tough to beat with
Your steady mind
But hearts are stronger after broken
So wake on up from your slumber
And open up your eyes
All these victims
Stand in line for
The crumbs that fall from the table
Just enough to get by
All the while
Your invitation
Wake on up from your slumber
Come on open up your eyes
Take from vandals
All you want now
But please don't trade it in for life
Replace the feeble
With the fable
Wake on up from your slumber
And open up your eyes
All these victims
Stand in line for
The crumbs that fall from the table
Just enough to get by
All the while
Your invitation
Wake on up from your slumber
Come on open up your eyes
Sing like we used to
Dance when you want to
Taste of the breakthrough
And open wide
All these victims
Stand in line for
The crumbs that fall from the table
Just enough to get by
All the while
Your invitation
Wake on up from your slumber
Come on open up your eyes
Sing like we used to
And dance like you want to
Open up your eyes.

And then IT happens an absolutely clear mindful moment "THIS is my life. THIS. IS. A. MOMENT. I am thankful and happy"

Here is the question: When do you give?

Over the last 46 years I have learned that it takes some tenacity to achieve what you want but I have also learned (as was drilled by my father into all of us) that in order to make the most of this tenacity one MUST weigh the costs against the benefits of a particular situation. What was not clear to me though was how much weight every benefit has to have to outweigh the costs. Am I making sense?

There are times when there is absolute clarity, no problem. The happiness of going on a school field trip to Stanley Park with #2 at age 11 far outweigh the possible need to pay for therapy for a 30 year old who did not spend enought time with his mother (I say this in jest but hey, it might happen despite all of #1 and #2 assurances).

Possibly extending my life for a few years (ok maybe months) if I run a few more ks each week outweighs the overwhelming need to lie on the couch with a bag of chips on my lap (today at least). Is the effort you put into a friendship worth it when you are the one always initiating contact BUT when you speak you laugh the entire time and it is as if you had seen each other yesterday? The answer is YES!! See? Clear costs and benefits.

Sometimes though it is not so clear - Is the red velvet muffin worth the calories? For the uninitiated in the cupcake arena the answer (as above with the friend) is always a resounding YES!! but is is often not worth it when you see the summer pile on you a couple of extra pounds. Is the confusing barrage of e-mails and stress from Pharma while on holidays worth the satisfaction of collaboration? Are 48 hours of FX research training worth a 22 hour flight to Santiago de Chile??? Mmmmhhhh .....???

So, when do you give? When do you eat the muffin or better yet when do you NOT eat the muffin? After only one pound? Two? When do you call your friend? Do you wait for their call? When do you drop the Pharma? After you have spent the last year reading, organizing, discussing, talking and doing? How much does it cost to walk away? Or if it becomes too much - is there beauty in walking away?

Feel free to contribute your thoughts. In the meantime I'll sit here and ponder while listening to Marie Digby who seems to know the way out. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TrFi7ydokgI

13 reasons why I post so much on facebook: Utopia.

1) I get positive feedback - once I did not post for a week or so and I got lots of e-mails wondering if I was okay and still alive.

2) I spent the last 12 years of my life being the picture taker and documenter of our life - there are a few pictures of me and the boys but it's mostly them. So so now I take every opportunity to document my own life.

3) ALL of my extended family lives elsewhere, I post, they read - we are somehow CONNECTED!

4) I have made friends all over the world and THIS is the way to keep track of them all. JUST what Mark Zuckerberg intended.

5) I see something I like, a place I want to go, a restaurant I'd like to try, an event, a conference, a good book, etc.. I get the link and post - no need to carry hand written notes or to enter it into the iPhone, go back to facebook and check. Also JUST what Mark Zuckerberg wants me to do.

6) I can showcase my kids and their happiness and my parents get to see it daily from Mexico

7) I get to interact with my young nephews and niece whenever I want to which has really made for a much closer relationship between us

8) I have a lot to say and people should hear it BUT hang on ........ here comes the BEST part, IF someone DOES not want to hear about you they DONT have to!!!! Off the news feed, off the friend list - problem solved!

9) On my wall I can say whatever I want, people may comment and if I don't like the comment I have the God-like power to DELETE IT!!!!!!!!

All of those are valid but in the end it may all come down to these last 4:

10) I am egocentric and I think the world revolves around me

11) I probably have OCD and thus a compulsive need to tell everyone what I do and where I am at all times

11) I also very likely have a mild touch of ADHD and thus mild but pervasive problems with self regulation

12) I have always been an overachiever?

Think about it, where in real life, can you just let loose all of your DSM-IV pathology? Delete what you dislike? Unfriend those who do not agree with you?  Have the ones you love close? It is a truly intoxicating concept!! Who knew, in the end, Facebook, albeit virtual, is the true Utopia.

The blue-eyed summer

In June the children and I made our yearly pilgrimage to the Richmond Chinese Night Market where I bought blue colored prescripiton contact lenses. That very evening I put them on and went around the house with my blue magalocorneas and felt that I had somehow reinvented myself at age 46. I felt more attractive, sexier and maybe, just maybe, a little bit skinnier. Yep, you can get all that in a tiny $15 package!! :)

Before everyone goes "OMG I cannot believe you did that!! you will injure your eyes" I will tell you NO!! they do not injure your eyes. First, cheap colored prescription contact lenses improved my vision without harm (as scientifically confirmed by my very own very annoyed Optometrist who HAD to see me on a Sunday morning to documente the miracle) and let me tell you, ONCE you see WELL (back to hawk-like vision) you can NEVER not see well again. For many years I have asked this same Optometrist to make my vision "crisp", as crisp as a vascular surgeon may have in order to do complicated surgery on small vessels, but he kept saying it could not be done. He was baffled at the change and said "there was no science to explain the improvement" Whatever, it WORKED!!

As an aside this reminds me of my grandfather Raul who had worn glasses all of his life and eventually had cataract surgery at age 70 or so. Well, lo and behold his new eyesight was comparable to that of an eagle and when he woke up from surgery the first thing he saw were his wife's knees who were quite calloused as she was a devout catholic woman who attended mass daily and prayed while kneeling practically all of the days of her life. But anyway I digress, as I said, he wakes up, opens his eyes and the first thing he says to her is: "WHAT IS THAT on your knees??!!" (proof of his very poor prior vision if he could not even see his wife's knees, right?). Her very quick and succint answer "Oh, be quiet. They are callouses from kneeling and praying for YOU!" I loooooove that story.

To contine with the blue eyes, I will inform you that this eye change also led to an unexpected social behaviour experiment. To note, most people DO NOT pay attention to details. I cannot tell you how many times a good friend or colleague would stare at my face with this far away confused look before realizing that I had new fake bue eyes. Those of use trained in dysmorphology - WE PAY ATTENTION! This is our every day bread and butter, diagnosis of a particular disorder can be exclusively based on eye findings, be it color, Waardenburg syndrome or shape, Ohdo syndrome to name a couple. In regards to this social behaviour, one of my work colleagues (not a dysmorphologist) had me wondering for half a day if I had in some way offended her because she kept looking but not really looking at me until I asked: "Have I done something to upset you?" and she answered: "No, but there is something weird about you today" "Oooooh I now have blue eyes" and then her demeanor changed and an big "Ohhhhh" of recognition followed that put an end to all of the speculation of an offense on my part and an end to the weird looks on hers.

So to end this little diatribe, September is here and I am back to brown. I don't know if I will stay brown or maybe try something else, grey, green ...... the possibilities are endless. After all, there is not much, except some very painful and expensive cosmetic surgery that may in the end have me looking like one of those duck-faced Vancouver Housewives on TV that can provoke such a "feel-good" change at 46 eh?

Things I learned while the kids were away at Camp

I dropped my children off at the Horseshoe Bay Ferry Terminal last Sunday for a week of overnight Camp. This year Benjamin decided there was no need for him and Sebastian to go to the same place as he "needs to start developing some independence skills" Needless to say this distressed his mother, because although I think he is prefectly able to manage on his own there is something to be said about the comfort and security of the two of them being in the same place IF anything were to happen.

The drop off with Sebastian went smoothly. We met his counselor, an 18 year old Australian youn man who was very mature and appropriate and Sebastian and he hit it off really well from the start. Benjamin on the other hand was left in the care  of "Banana". Yes, Banana. She did not get up from the floor, did not make eye contact and did not extend her hand to greet us. When we asked for her name she said: "Banana". When we asked for her real name her response was (while giggling uncontrollably and covering her mouth with her hands): "I can't tell you". WTF?? I am leaving my 11 year old with YOU??? Thankfully there was another boy Jeremy in his group who comforted us by saying: "Don't worry I have been to this camp before and I am sure we will all be happy" while oozing 11 year old maturity. Great, at least Benj will have Jeremy.

I was a summer camp counsellor in New Hampshire for a few years and now that I am on the receiving end I wonder, did I come across as a professional and put together young woman or was I a Banana? I think I was pretty good at it. The responsabilites started at the Mexico City airport with the care (even the fist year I went, at age 11, I was put in charge) of a gaggle of unruly Mexican kids that had to be navigated through security, flight, flight changes, immigration, more security and second flight. I remember I was given the responsability of carrying the passports!!! and boarding tickets too !!! Eventually we all made it to Boston and Camp Q safely. So I must not have been a banana, then again maybe I was. If you knew me then you can comment but do it kindly :) it could destroy my self-esteem :).

Any hoo, Sebastian comes back today and Benjamin tomorrow and here are a few of the things I learned while they were away:

The house is way tooo big.

The house is waaaaaayyyyy to quiet.

Most of the phone calls (contrary to popular belief) are not for me.

The big bottle of shampoo CAN last more than one week.

I do not need to buy toilet paper as often as I thought.

I miss the creaking of their bedroom doors at night when they use the bathroom.

THEY eat ALL of the food in my home.

Hot dogs last forever is there are no teenagers in the house.

Laundry loads are infinitesimally small and frankly do not need to be done on a regular basis.

You get a pretty good workout if you have to climb up and down the stairs to get things that you forgot rather than have them go get them.

Going back and forth from the garage to the house to get things that you forgot (rather than place a quick call on the cell and have them meet you by the garage door) is a nuisance.

I cannot fix anything that requires complex electronic knowledge.

Watching sporting events on my own is booooorrrrrriiiinnng.

Time on my own is great but a little overrated. I have no need to be away from them.

If this is how it will feel when they go away to University I DO NOT LIKE IT.

Summer break

The end of my first set of summer holidays is gently coming to an end on Tuesday and although I will miss the late mornings, the incessant pleasure reading, the daily Whistler or city adventure and most importantly the soaking of the sun I am also looking forward to the predictability of work days, the interaction with my colleagues and the thrill of new questions.

The children and I have had two weeks of absolute togetherness and I think they need a break from me. Like Benjamin put it the other day: "Why can't we just sit at home and veg instead of biking around the city like maniacs?"  You see I, (not unlike other people in Vancouver I hope) have this almost insane need to get out in the sun to "do stuff" during the summer. There is this incredible sense of urgency to pack the day chock full of things to do because you just know in just a few weeks, just around the bend, looming there like some big black wet monster are the endless days of rain. I am convinced this rain anxiety driven "need" makes more than a few of us a little crazy.

So we have biked, hiked, skimboarded, canoed, kayaked, Splashdowned, visted every Farmers Market, sailed and swam to our heart's content. I have also ran every other day, done the Wreck beach stairs and walked leisurely back from the beach stopping on the way to get a muffin or a croissant and sat in the sun to eat it. Le me tell you, I am sure everyone loves their city but there is no better city to spend a sunny summer than Vancouver.

We have also sat (for a short while ONLY) infront of the TV to watch the Olympic Opening ceremonies and had ample time to virtually discuss the whole event with people all over the world thanks to Facebook. I played an Olympics  "drinking" game with my friend Karen in Vancouver while I was in Whistler. My Dad who is in Mexico and I managed to dissect every country's choice of uniform. I also did this with a few other people as well, my friend Hillary in Ireland, Jane in Australia and I also had a blast making fun of the Queen. Have we ever had a time before when we could be this connected? It felt like we were all in the same room sharing this event together!!! The PERFECT summer party!

I have to confess in between all of this I have also checked my work e-mail daily but had the new found ability to answer only the urgent-we-abslutely-need-you-to-answer-this-one messages. I went in to work one morning when there was no sun and got quite a bit accomplished without pressure. I also managed to stress out big time over the Research Ethics Board application but managed to let go once I figured out I had absolutely NO control over its outcome. Now, for those of you who know me well you will know THAT was my summer's biggest accomplishment - realizing sometimes I have no control.

So as Benjamin also put it "Thank God you are going back to work so we can have a rest". It is now time to take a proverbial break and get back to work rested, happy and tanned until the next set of holidays.

Sex and minecraft.

The following words came out of my mouth this morning: "No, Benjamin I do not think the porn industry was invented so that people learn how to have sex." This stemming from a documentary I was watching about the history of the pornographic industry while he sat beside me iPad in hand and engrossed in his minecraft game not listening to the TV (or so I thought). It turns out he was.

The conversation went on: "So where does one go to learn how to have sex? There are classes for everything else, basketball, baseball, computers, why not sex?" Me: "Why do you think we don't have classes for sex?" Benj: "Well, I guess people just kind of figure they will figure it out eventually." So I say: "Yes, maybe that's it" and he responds: "Or maybe it is like learning to walk where nobody teaches you, it just happens." Me: "Yes it kind of intuitive I guess." Benjamin: "Well, it seems silly that we teach everything else and not this. How am I going ot figure it out?" Me again: "Well, I suggest that you ask a lot of questions. Maybe that will help." Him: "Ok, I will, but I doubt that you know everything, I mean you are only a doctor not a sex expert" and returns to his minecraft game.

After awhile he pipes up again and says: "Maybe that would make a good bussiness (ever the entrepreneur). A place where people could learn about sex and practice." Now I am seriously getting worried that I have raised a gigolo. "I mean look at me, (oh crap) I am a very good minecraft player because I play and practice all the time." Me: "Ummhhh I don't know if that kind of bussiness is legal in BC." Him: "It is still a good idea though." Me (hesitantly): "Suuuure (do not encourage the child too much - for the love of God!!!)."

I have a friend who once told me that her husband thought that all of my facebook posts and some of my blog entries were made up until he came to our house and realized these conversations actually take place. After Benjamin left the room I was wondering the very same thing: Did we just have that conversation? Yep, we did and I really hope it was all for informative purposes because frankly this child is smart enough to be laying down the groundwork (should I say the evidence based or "minecraft evidence" based groundwork) for access to porn in the near future.

What the fuck?!

Today on my way home from work I was listening to the CBC (as I always do) and on The Current with Anna Maria Temonti they featured the Bei Bei Shuai "murder" case happening in Indiana.

For those of you uninformed (as I was until today when I went from uniformed to OUTRAGED!!) Bei Bei Shuai is  a young woman originally from Shanghai, who was 33 weeks pregnant and living in Indiana when she tried to commit suicide by ingesting rat poison after her boyfriend, father of the baby, announced he was married and abandoned her to return to his family. Her friends found out what she had done and rushed her to hospital. She survived, but the fetus she was carrying died shortly after an emergency caesarean section. Because her daughter died Bei Bei was charged with murder, yes MURDER of her newborn daughter.

WHAT THE FUCK?! I am sure I am not the only one who is completely baffled by this. So I ask, WHAT is happening to the US? How have they moved soooooooooooo far to the right? How is this unlike the stoning of Muslim women who are raped through no fault of their own? Bei Bei was depressed and committed a desperate act that she hoped would end her life (which at the time included a pregnant body). It was not her intent to end the pregnancy but her LIFE! her WHOLE life! If anything she was murdering herself not exclusively her baby!!! Not to mention the fact that she clearly had some serious mental health issues ie. DEPRESSION.

To quote Katha Pollit in The Nation: "To call what Shuai did murder seems to overlook the fact that she was trying to kill herself. But this prosecution is unfortunately in line with a national trend of criminalizing the behavior of pregnant women whether through drug use, self-abortion—even, as in one case, falling down the stairs. The state law under which Shuai is charged was passed in 1979, as part of a post-Roe wave of “unborn victims of violence” laws that made the fetus a separate victim in crimes against pregnant women that caused her to miscarry or die—for example, attacks by muggers or abusive partners"

Clearly this law does not apply here, yet she was charged and let me tell you things are NOT looking good for this woman who may possibly end up in jail for the next 25 years. I have never been one to sign petitions but this is so incredibly, ridiculously preposterously wrong that I will sign and encourage EVERYONE to get informed and act to change things for Bei Bei and other pregnant women .  http://www.change.org/petitions/protect-pregnant-women-free-bei-bei

The many reasons I love Canada

I know, I know. If you follow me on facebook you will know that I complain about the weather in British Columbia, Canada ALL the time. But I will say it here officially for the record that that is THE only reason I may at times not like Canada.

Here though are the reasons I DO!

1) We have UNIVERSAL health care!!!
2) Women can, if they want to, have up to ONE YEAR of maternity leave!
3) Women are treated fairly and equitably in the work force.
4) Our armed forces are used exclusively for the purpose of peace keeping.
5) Tim Horton's whole wheat carrot muffins.
6) The Royal Canadian Mounted Police wear the most fashionable red uniforms.
7) We have places with cool names like Tuktuyaktuk and Nunavut.
8) HOCKEY!
9) We get to say eh? at the end of all sentences.
10) One of our coins is called a loonie.
11) Newfoundland's very own Great Big Sea - just about the BEST band on the planet!
12) Multiculturalism.
13) Whistler, Banff, Lake Louise, the Niagara Falls and the Rideau Canal in Ottawa.
14) When people speak, politicians listen.
15) We have, hands down, the most beautiful National Anthem (writing this, for some strange reason, has, all of a sudden provoked in me a sudden need to play hockey).
16) Sebastian would kill me if I didn't mention this one, so here goes, #16 reason:  the resident orca pods of the Strait of Juan de Fuca (although the are not officially Canadian, we like to think of them as belonging to us).

But MOST of all, I LOVE Canada because it welcomed me with open arms, allowed me to become the doctor I wanted to be AND is the place where my children were born, thrive and learn among all other cultures free of judgment and in peace.

Happy 145th Canada!

Wonderwoman

I was sitting at the kitchen table last night with one very large printed calendar in front of me and my laptop outlook Express open so that I can sanely keep track of my clinic dates, summer holidays and trips, Fragile X related activities as well as other conferences while at the same time recording (on both systems, electronic and printed)  the children's summer camps, trips and other summer activities, when Benjamin, (who has been looking over my shoulder the whole time) says: "I bet you not even the President of the United States has a schedule as busy as this".

As soon as I heard that I was tempted to say f*ck it, dump the whole scheduling thing and wing the whole summer on a let's-take-it-one-day-at-a-time plan. But after a long deep breath I realized that "plan" would cause me such anxiety that it was just not worth it. So I got hold of my "wonderwoman" inner self and planned, scheduled, made lists and I am pretty sure that I have the next 75 days under control. Yes, the whole summer is under control.

Today my friend and fellow geneticist posted a provocative article on Facebook written by Anne-Marie Slaughter http://www.theatlantic.com/magazine/archive/2012/07/why-women-still-can-8217-t-have-it-all/9020/. She is the first woman director of policy planning at the US State Department , a very BIG and important job, her dream job, as she describes it. Unfortunately, she writes, while performing her dream job she was unable to stop thinking about ther 14 yeard old first days in high school and the difficulties he was having. THIS I thought is EVERY full time working woman's dilemma, a universal experience or so it seems to me from numerous conversations with other women over the years. The question is: Do we take the dream job and "neglect" the children?

I have clinic all day today, I love my job but I would have also LOVED to be a Benjamin's Sports Day, putting up balloons and cheering my child with all of the other mothers. Instead I did my work while feeling guilty and neglectful. It also does not help that at other times I have been judged because as one of the other mothers put it: "Isn't it sad that you miss all of the important events in the kids lives?". Funny, how I would  have been considered totally RUDE if I had said : "Isn't it sad that you do not make any money to help your family?" but she felt it was okay to judge me. At any rate, I held my tongue.

Last year I was offered a positon at Harvard, when I told my aunts in Mexico (I come from an unusual Mexican family where all of the females in the previous generation are career working women where professional achievements are celebrated in full) one of them said "I just got goose bumps from hearing that, such an accomplishment, will you take it?" and I said: "No, I want to be with my children and I do not want to disrupt their life." Her response: "Good choice".

It IS a good choice but it would be better if the measures proposed by Slaughter were put in place. It would be better if women supported all decisions made by other women without judgment. It would be better if we could all amp up our career after children were "finished" growing up as she suggessts. It would be better not to feel guilty about not being the perfect mother while working. It would be better if we could all be wonderwomen but that only happens on TV.

Scientific conference college dorm living - dos and do nots.

1) Pack very little - basic science dudes are not into high fashion. Remember THEY ARE INTO MICE! Thus will NOT appreciate your cute shoes.

2) Pack hangers and blankets - I KNOW - who would have thought eh?

3) Make sure you have a good computer with a good battery so you can do other stuff (check e-mail, check facebook, correct patient reports or write blogs)  while they talk about the mouse neuronal synaptic LTP (long term potentiation) and LTD (long term depression). Interesting I'll give, but only the first time!!

4) Bring a big towel to cover yourself  - a big one! One that goes around ALL THE WAY. You will have to run across the shared hall to retrieve your soap, shampoo, conditioner, shower cap, etc.. a few times in in front of  what at one time will likely be the entire Scientific Research Ethics Board of your University.

5) I do not want to repeat myself  BUT - Bring a BIG towel  to cover yourself. Again, one that goes around ALL THE WAY. As I said, you will have to run across the shared hall to retrieve numerous forgotten items in front of  what at one time will likely be the ENTIRE grant funding Committee and all members of the Pharmaceutical Company sponsoring your study.

6) DO not bring a hair dryer, MOST basic scientists wear ponytails, a sure sign they do not care that your bangs are a little off.

7) Needless to say - absolutely no need to pack make-up.

8) Pack lots of socks, it is completely acceptable attire to wear socks with sandals at these meetings.

Things I have learned about Seahorses.

I was driving to work while listening to CBC radio yesterday morning and they were talking about the sci fund challenge. This researcher was talking about seahorses, one of those fascinating animals where the male seahorse, instead of the female carry the offspring in a pouch for the duration of the "pregnancy" - which I believe is evolutionary pay back at a very very very small scale.

It turns out that this researcher had lots to say about seahorses and since I already know about farting fish I paid attention so that I can learn something new. Here's is her home page: http://scifundchallenge.org/seahorseadventures/ and a few seahorse facts:

1) Seahorses can be as small as quarter or as big as a banana

2) Seahorses have no teeth and no stomach. Food passes through their digestive systems so quickly, they must eat almost constantly to stay alive.

3) Because of their body shape, seahorses are rather inept swimmers and can easily die of exhaustion when caught in storm-roiled seas. They propel themselves by using a small fin on their back that flutters up to 35 times per second. Cool eh?

4) Unlike most other fish, they are monogamous and mate for life. This, a rather unfortunate evolutionary set back I must say.

Anyway, all of this new knowledge is tied to very creative ways to raise research funds (small amounts, not NSERC or CIHR type funds) with this great little online challenge. This website allows the public to see EXACTLY where their research funds are going and they offer rewards for different amounts donated (a la PBS style). The rewards are quite small, for example for a $5.00 donation you can get a digital photo of a seahorse - which you could probably get online anyway, but this way you help support the people who are passionate about what they do and help them achieve their goals.

The most interesting research project I found was a person wanting to reintroduce a type of shrimp into the waters of West Africa http://www.rockethub.com/projects/7509-projet-crevette-save-children-from-disease.

Schistosomiasis (or "schisto") is a debilitating parasite that infects millions of children in third world countries around the globe.  Because of their infections, they may suffer anemia, growth stunting, and learning disabilities. Projet-Crevette means "Project Prawn" in French. At Projet Crevette they are working on a solution that could eliminate schistosomiasis, sustainably and permanently. They are looking into a new method of prawn farming that will allow prawns to eat (and eliminate) the disease-carrying snails that are the source of the infections. This research may pave the way to saving millions of children and adults from contracting this disease.

Easy solution to a big problem right? One well worth supporting! Have a look!!

So plug in the website: http://scifundchallenge.org/ and have a look.

Parking RAGE!

Every Tuesday I am in charge of collecting Benjamin from my house and delivering him to badminton lessons at the Vancouver Lawn Tennis and Badminton Club (VLTBC). I know, it sounds hoity-toity and it is hoity-toity but from today's experience in the parking lot I have figured out at least one of the members is an ass and real far from being hoity-toity. Or maybe he actually is the EPITOME of hoity-toitiness.

First, let me give you some backgound, there is well know VLTBC parking etiquette. The rule is if there are no spaces when you arrive you must travel to the end of the lot and circle the roundabout and wait on the right hand side for a space to clear up. EVERYONE or so I thought follows this rule (even if you are Mexican like me and this feels alien to you). Anyway this Tuesday I did the expected and waited on the right while another car pulled out of its spot that was meant to be for me when in comes a fancy little red Porsche and PULLS INTO MY SPOT!! and my first thought was: WHOA, HOW UNCANADIAN!!!

Anyway, I am LIVID as get out of my car (with my newly acquired I-am-a-total-bad-ass-and-can-take-you-down black eye) and politely say: "You are probably not familiar with the rules but I was waiting for this spot" and he answers: "I do not care (nice dude eh?), those rules do not work when the management does not enforce the other rule of not letting the non-members park here". "But I am a member" I said in total disbelief and his totally incredible rude response?....... "Like I said I do not care".

Back to the car I go while steaming and having visions of stabbing all of his tires so he ends up stranded. Or at least scratching my car key over the side of his precious little red car (now I sound like Carrie Underwood). You will ask, well, did you? Did you? Did you?!! No, I didn't, but I REALLY REALLY wanted to.

What is is about parking spots that makes one primitively territorial? What is it about a particular parking situation that makes us so upset? Is it about winning? Is it anger about the blatant disregard for the person's right to the spot? Why is this? Why does this make us so incredibly upset? If another lady grabs the last pair of shoes I wanted or dress I liked I do not have the same reaction so what is it about parking spots?

But when I think about it, it is not just parking lots, it is other situations that happen in cars too, people cutting in front of you or not allowing you into the cue also provoke extreme anger. Why haven't we evolved to tolerate this? Surely, higly evolved beings should be able to rationally look at the situation and think, noooo problem I am cool and calm, another parking spot will open up really soon so nooooo worries. But we don't, instead we become irrational cavemen and women thinking I will NEVER find another parking spot or I will NEVER get into the tunnel's cue and this is MY TERRITORY! MINE!!

Beware of who you cross though, because you never know where you might encounter this person again. Many years ago I was waiting for a long time at a gas station to pull into a spot and put gas in my car when a brown SUV pulls into my spot. I get out of the car and tell the man "I was waiting and it was my turn to pull in". He turns to me and says "Sorry but we are late for golf". I say: "Well you are going to have to move" and he says: "No I can't, we are late for golf" while he turns to his friend and they both start laughing. Unbelievable as***ole.

The very next day I show up at the UBC soccer camp to the kid's last day "World Cup" competition and THERE HE IS, THE A***OLE! and his kid and mine are on the same team. Now I should tell you that because the kids had ended up on the Mexico team my father had sent 7 Mexico team jerseys for the whole of Sebastian's team. Well, he sees me and I can tell he is trying to avoid eye contact at all cost. But I go right up to him and say: "I have Mexico jerseys for the whole team and I am going to give one to your son despite what you did yesterday because I am sure it is not his fault you are such an as***hole". Then I cooly turn around and walk away with my head held high. HA! I WIN!

My Voldemort voice.

Voldermot, now there is a scary dude eh? As we all know almost no witch or wizard (or in this case - the children living in my house) dare to speak his name, instead referring to him (or in this case me) as "You-Know-Who", "He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named" or "the Dark Lord". Exactly the way I need to be addressed during my "Voldemort days".

My day began with the visit of unexpected sun - good!!! and BIG TIME dissappointment - bad. Plus, I got my hair cut on Sunday and it ended up much shorter than the comfortable 19 inches I like plus the bangs are also too short!!! This set the tune for the week. I will not bore you with the big dissappointment details. Needless to say I was expecting something and it did not happen. Now, I am 46 and should be perfectly capable of handling this dissappointment right? Yes, but much to everyone's distress it is happening during one of those Voldemort days.

Then today after checking e-mail and getting the afore mentioned BIG TIME dissappointment I get in the shower only to realize after I am done, that the wet towels from last night's showers were not laid out to dry so I had to dry off with a damp towel - cold and unpleasant. Then I walk downstairs to find out that last night's perishables were not put away. This would have, on a better day, been handled calmly by getting the perpetrators up to clean the kitchen instead it became a dramatic, loud "I cannot believe you guys behave like this" while all the time using my Voldermot voice. Yes, over the years I have found my Voldermot voice and I am always surprised to see how effective it is in getting my point across.

I continued to use the voice as I drove to work and cursed the construction work been done along Dunbar and 33rd and on what seems to be every street in Vancouver this Spring, which made me late for my first patient. Every once in a while I would look up at the rearview mirror and see the bangs - which led to more evil dark thoughts. WHY did I get bangs in the first place???

In my house I know both Sebastian and Benjamin are wishing for Harry Potter skills so that the prophecy can come true and they can have the power to vanquish the Dark Lord.  I would suggest the Cheering Charm. Description: Causes the person upon whom the spell was cast to become happy and contented, though heavy-handedness with the spell may cause the person to break into an uncontrollable laughing fit. Maybe that will work.

WHO loves you?

Today is mother's day in Mexico - 10 de Mayo Dia de las Madres, forever etched in my memory .

In this day and age where the value and meaning of being a mother is being debated on CNN on a daily basis and Hilary Rosen makes statements like "Ann Romney has never worked a day in her life" because she has been a stay at home mother for her entire life I wonder - what exactly does it mean to be a mother nowadays? Who is a mother?

It used to be easy, your mother was the woman who contributed half her DNA to making you, carried you around in her uterus for 9 months and pushed you out of her body. But this old definition is trite and old fashioned now and we have to come up with a new definition.

Lately, I find myself needing a pre-load mother defining word, biological mother, adoptive mother, surrogate mother, foster mother, working mother, stay-at-home mother, the list goes on and on. So, which am I? Well, let's see, I am a biological mother to my biological children but I think I am also often a surrogate mother (not in the sense that I carried them) but in the I-am-here-if-you-need-me kind of way to some other children and my patients. I can also sometimes be an adoptive mother to some neighborhood stragglers with working mothers who need a few hours of shelter in my house. I am also a working mother and sometimes during my "work" holidays I am also a stay-at-home mother. So am I all mothers?

In the ends it comes down to this - Who LOVES YOU? (thank you Joe Biden for the inspiration). WHO LOVES YOU? THAT is your mother, whether they contributed half of their DNA or not, whether they carried you or not, whether they work outside the home or stay at home. The woman (or sometimes women) who are in your life on a regular basis, take care to make sure you are happy and love you THAT is your mother. And  by the way, you do not have to have JUST one mother either.

So I AM a mother, I love my biological children and other children. I make sure they are happy if they live in my house and do my darndest when they do not - particularly for my patients. I love them with hugs and kisses but I also love them with nagging. I love them when I want them to eat well, dress in clean clothes, not smell :), exercise, brush their teeth, make them learn and push them to try new experiences. I love them when I listen to their thoughts and ideas. I love them when I arrange for another mother to pick them up from school or other activities. I love them when I make sure their friends are safe and happy. I also love them when I am working to make money and make sure they have everything they need.

So to all of us out there being mothers today and every other day - GOOD JOB!

You know you need to go grocery shopping when ..

1) It is the fifth night in a row you have suggested the kids have hot dogs for dinner and yes, why not try them wihout the bun?

2) You think - Who said ice cream cannot be a meal?

3) You go on google for recipes that can put tortillas, cookie dough and one chicken breast (since they are the only things left in the freezer) together in a deliciously inventive new way.

4) You find yourself looking at the wilted half heart of romaine in the fridge and thinking with enough dressing that might be tasty.

5) The kids are eagerly waiting for you when you come home from work flapping the take out menu flyers in the air with a huge smiles on their faces wondering: what will we order tonight?

6) You start going through the cans in the pantry (you all know this is a true sign of desperation since most of us hold those cans FOREVER). All of those gourmet curried beans, gourmet garlic and sun dried tomate cous cous, jalapeno jam and other obscure other inhabitants of the pantry that you thought would make the perfect sophisticated meal until you got them home and realized nope, they won't really.

7) When the 11 year old suggessts that you walk down to Tim Horton's and have doughnuts for dinner you immediate response is: SURE, why not?

Handicapped or handicapable?

NEVER, in my wildest dreams of career life, would I have thought that I would have to apologize for a child NOT filling the criteria for a diagnosis of Autism Spectrum Disorder (ASD) ie. NOT having Autism. However, this is exactly what I find myself doing almost every Monday in clinic, apologizing. Had to apologize again yesterday and today.

You would think that a child NOT having an ASD is a very good thing. Well, not in British Columbia. You see in BC every child below the age of five diagnosed with an ASD gets $20,000 dollars (Canadian health care dollars) a year for developmental interventions. After the age of five if a child is diagnosed with an ASD or already has a diagnosis of ASD parents get $6000 dollars a year for developmental interventions as the rest of the developmental support will now be transferred and funded through their school. Please note however, that NO OTHER DEVELOPMENTAL DISORDER RECEIVES THIS KIND OF FUNDING. So, of course parents WANT this diagnosis!

Let me be clear, parents want this diagnosis not because they want the money for selfish purposes but because this child may not have Autism but he or she very likely has another just as functionally impairing developmental disorder. There is a reason, after all, this child ended up at my door. A reason he or she came to see a Developmental Pediatrician. Most of them are not doing well in the community or in the school. And chances are that although the child did not fit the DSM-IV clinical criteria for an Autism diagnosis he or she filled it for another condition. So he or she COULD definitely use the resources this funding provides.

Even more appalling is that the aforemetioneed ASD funding ends at the age of 18 when, of course, MAGICALLY, the child, now adult, NO LONGER has autism (can you hear the sarcasm?). This measure is ridiculously akin to the proposal of asking a child with Cerebral Palsy to give up his wheelchair just because he or she is now age 18. NOBODY would dream of doing that!!

So forget the diagnosis, it is all about FUNCTION! Those of you who heard me speak know I am all about FUNCTION!!! What can this child/adult do? What can't this child/adult do? How can we help support this REGARDLESS or even WITHOUT a diagnosis? HOW do we make this happen?

The best definition of an intellectual disability (what we used to call mental retardation) was proposed by Luckasson et al., in 1992. ‘‘Mental retardation [Intellectual disability] is not something you have, like blue eyes or a bad heart, nor is it something you are, like short or thin. It is not a medical disorder or a mental disorder. Mental retardation [Intellectual disability] reflects the ‘fit’ between the capabilities of individuals and the structure and expectations of their environment’’ . This definition applies to ALL developmental disorders. Fit, change, modify, support the environment and people FUNCTION!!!

We, in BC, have made some progress in changing people's mindset. Some of our school districts are doing this, addressing kids functionally, unfortunately still under the constraints of certain measures (school designations). Slowly, very slowly, the importance of function is setting in. But even last week I heard a family saying: "She is not getting school resources BECAUSE she does not yet have a diagnosis". Again FORGET the diagnosis. FUNCTION, FUNCTION, FUNCTION - THAT is the key!  Give a child or adult what he or she needs to optimize his or her developmental outcome at whatever level that may be.

Enough support and maybe we can change this paradigm. Maybe we can ..... to quote the "evil" Sue Sylvester in Glee, make sure that people are not handicapped but "HANDICAPABLE!!"

The hockey void.

Well, that's it. What else can I say? The Canucks are out of the playoffs. We fell in love and got dumped yet again.

Vancouver has this weird love affair with the Canucks (although I think this extends to all sport fans whose team has not won in the last century - it FEELS like a century!), we love them despite the fact that they behave a lot like that University boyfriend who would dump you on Fridays and get back together with you on Mondays. Always kept you hoping, always coming back but never, EVER, delivering the goods when it was necessary. Never around for a weekend date (which is when dates really matter - btw). NEVER wanting to hang out with your friends. NEVER waiting to meet your parents.

Anyway, this happens every year and it reminds me of this mantra we are to chant as mothers when children get into trouble: "I am not angry with you. I am angry with your behaviour". So I am not angry with the Canucks (although I am a little angry with Lou to tell the truth) but I am angry with their BEHAVIOUR. I say time to STOP  fooling around and WIN THE CUP ALREADY!!!!!!!!

I was out and about today and it feels like we are all walking around like zombies, (CLEAN SHAVEN zombies thankfully!) thinking: What am I going to do with all this free time now? I am here at Whole Foods wandering the aisles just because there is no hockey to watch. I have no excuse to leave work early anymore and there's really no need to buy anything because I have the problem of what to do with all of the purchased finger playoff food, including a few extra pounds of chicken wings.

So I ask ... now what? My friend in Boston said:  "You should choose another sport". Easy for her to say when her city holds the Celtics AND the Red Sox. We, in Vancouver, have, ... let me think, ... hang on ... mmmhhhh. Oh yeah, the Whitecaps!!! The Whitecaps? Who? Who are they? The Whitecaps, are you ready for this? are Vancouver's soccer team. Yes, sigh, I know. I can just hear everybody in the motherland laughing and asking "WHOA Canadians (but more particularly) people in VANCOUVER play soccer? (insert big time sarcasm here). Yes, yes we do. Yes, we suck at it. Yes, in the rain. Yes, in the rain ALL THE TIME.

So we sit here and wait. Wait until next year, all hopeful again while we watch and  listen to where Lou will choose to go live out his days and hoping Schneider steps up to the plate and delivers next season while running into the Sedins at Kitsilano Beach and Granville Island because now you see them everywhere as they actually have time to hang out with their families.

Yep, we will sit here and wait. Wait, wait, wait, while slowly falling in love again

You know you are living with a teenager when ...

1) for the first time in your life, okay in MY life, I feel petite!!

2) you have at least half a dozen pairs of brand new shoes that he outgrew before he could use them 

 3) every once in a while, all of a sudden, you get this out of the blue down your back shiver and after a minute realize it's because you just had a vision of him at the helm of a car in no less than two years

4) you realize that hopefully one day you will never again have to spend money on computer support cause he knows everything

5) you negotiate BIG TIME payments for public displays of affection

6) you get a phone call every day before you leave your office to announce that we are out of snacks

7) the amount of money you spend on iTunes may just be the entire educational budget of a small country (he just walked in to say I exaggerate, I probably do)

8) you inform yourself very well before making any statement because he will call you on it if it is not true

9) you buy 40 dollars worth of salmon thinking that will do for the next month, but come home to find it gone after one meal and over the next week you make sure you are vigilant for any signs of encephalopathy due to mercury poisoning

10) you exhaust every medical search engine for evidence that eyes CAN dislocate and PERMANENTLY migrate to the back of the head after one of those EPIC eye rolls just so you can prove your point 

Sun Run tomorrow. New York and Boston Marathons ... someday?

I come from two very large extended families and while most of us we are fairly decent, okay some of us very very good :),  in academic pursuits we are not known for great feats of athleticism. Don't get me wrong, most of us exercise and stay in shape but in a very nonchalant hope-I-don't-get-a-heart-attack-before-I-am-50 kind of way, not in an Olympic gold medal kind of way.

As a disclaimer I have to add here that I have explored every corner of my memory (watch it, now I'll get an angry e-mail from some long lost relative who won Olympic gold in fencing or some other obscure sport without me being informed) and as far as I know none of us have made it to the big games ie. Olympics, Panamerican Games, World Cup (however we are Mexicans so this could still be an option), Masters Tournament, Stanley Cup, or for that matter even the local sport pages.

We have, however, been in some cases smart enough to MARRY into families who are made up of great athletes. My aunt's husband has NOT ONLY swam around the ENTIRE island of Manhattan but ALSO accross the English channel. My cousin's husband is running the Boston Marathon on Monday, a fact I should say makes me absolutely green with envy.

Not to belittle Ruy's efforts but I did hear that this year's registration for the Boston Marathon was closed super fast because it got full in a very short period of time. The organzing group was even thinking that they needed to revise the qualifying times because according to them, nowadays with the right training ANYBODY can run a marathon. And I've been wondering, who is this anybody? I certainly does not include me.

So for now I prepare for the Vancouver Sun Run 10K:
- pray for sun
- no alcohol consumption tonight (I have already accomplished this despite the night out with the ladies)
- go to sleep early (I can only dedicate 15 more minutes to this blog) after praying for sun
- compose kick ass inspiring music playlist that includes Christina Aguilera's Fighter, Hedley's Invincible and Journey's Don't stop believing (gotta get to this soon)
- pray for sun
- wake up tomorrow and shower while loudly singing Survivor's Eye of the Tiger
- pray for sun again
- choose appropriate attire for warmth and "support"
- eat breakfast with plentiful and readily available carbohydartes and protein (no brainer- toast with peanut butter as I do EVERY morning)
- did I say pray for sun already?
- make way downtown on bus with the rest of the other 30,000 runners
- stand, in the cold, at the back of the Vancouver Art Gallery (white bib) for at least 90 minutes if not more while elite runners run the course
- RUN (hopefully in the sun!!!!!)

While running I will dream of my eventual participation in both Boston and New York Marathons. Ah!! my one pipe dream. The good thing is that I am getting older and with any luck the qualifying times for the elderly MUST leave some room for me. Then again they may not because like I said I AM getting older.

In regards to the rest of the family I have heard that the new generation of young bloods is very very promising in the soccer and Golf arena so you might still see either a Lopez or a Rangel on the Olympic podium. Stay tuned.

Hit me baby one more time.

If you know me at all you'll know that I have no self retraint in general but less so when it comes to Britney Spears' song "Baby one more time". Oh baby, baby. how was I supposed to know, that something wasn't right. Oh baby, baby, I shouldn't have let you go. And now you are right outside yeah. Show me, how you want it to be, tell me baby, cause I need to know now. Oh oh because, my loneliness is killing me. I must confess I still believe, when I am not with you I lose my mind. Give me a sign. Hit me baby one more time!

Seriously, I have been running along the Stanley Park Sea Wall twice with this Britney song loudly playing in my headphones and belting it out until I realize that people are looking at me with a "Who is this crazy woman?" look on their faces while I smile sheepishly and say: "Sorry, was I too loud?". Really? You'd think they'd be used to Britney Spears sing alongs in the West End right?

You will also know that I believe I am a true Newfounlander at heart as I will not only attend every Great Big Sea concert available to me but also know every word to every one of their songs and sing along at the top of my lungs while bouncing up and down in the very first row like some crazed groupie. Okay, not LIKE a crazed groupie but like a TRUE crazed groupie.

My friend Fiona and I like to crank up the volume in the car while playing Erasure's "A little respect" and The Cure's "Just like Heaven" or George Michael's "I want your sex" while watching the kids in the back seat turn beet red and hide themselves below the car windows so no one can see them.

I love the more contemporary Lady Antebellum and Parachute. I can be serene with Jason Spooner and The Decemberists but I also cannot avoid liking the boys from Saving Abel and their raunchy lyrics. Listen to their "Sex is Good" song, excellent! You should know though that the fact that I like this song makes the resident 14 year old break out in a rash and Biblically deny his mother's existence particularly if his friends are around.

Lately, Sebastian has encouraged me, in view of the Saving Abel faux pas, to find more "over 40s lady like music". Yep, his exact words. So I wonder, what is more "lady like music"? Do I need to stick to Barbra Streisand, The Carpenters, acoustic piano and/or guitar (all also on my playlist btw)? Or can I be lady like while I listen to Coldplay and Breaking Benjamin?

In the end I told him he should be grateful that it is not worse because I am just now begining to pay him back for the 5 years of endless recurrent loops of Raffi, Thomas the Tank Engine and Mighty Machines. So my dear lovely Sebastian let me be loud and happy and - HIT ME BABY ONE MORE TIME!

Is Viagra a Pokemon?

Every June for the past few years, I, together with another physician Mum have been covering  the "puberty and sex education" talk at our children's Catholic School.

It goes like this: the Grade 5, 6 and 7 boys get together with a physician father and the girls get together with Dr. Mezey and I. The teachers play a 20 minute ancient video with, who I am pretty sure, are some of the child actors on Barney, that describes the changes girls experience in puberty. Then they get to see the boys puberty video too and viceversa for the boys, they get to see the girls video.

Afterwards, both groups, still separately (separate rooms), get the opportunity to ask questions. This is done annonymously, the children write their question on a little piece of paper and it goes into a box and in the boys group their physican Dad reads and answers them out loud. In the girls group Dr. M and I do the same. For the boys this is a "bum deal" or so I heard from Sebastian every year because the physician/Dad covers the information on puberty and puberty ONLY ie. he will not answer any other questions unless they pertain to puberty and if a sex question is asked his answer is "you need to discuss that with your parents". Meanwhile Dr. M and I answer ALL questions, ALL OF THEM!

Sex discussions at our house are a free for all access to information session. A few years ago I bought a book at one of the developmental conferences I attended that dealt with sexual education for boys called "What is going on down there?" I strategically left the book in the car and when the boys found it and asked about it I said I bought it for my patients. OF COURSE they read it! and that led to a few extra questions they hadn't previously asked so they know pretty much everything there is to know. Imagine my son's frustration at the June school sessions as he sits there and respectfully listens but cannot ask the really important questions. He does find it funny though, after one of  these sessions Sebastian came home laughing because one of the boys had asked if Viagra was a Pokemon.

Last year the boys had their session before the girls and again I heard the same complaint: "We cannot ask questions about sex". But one of the questions pulled out of the boys annonymous box was "Can humans have sex with animals?" Which of course was read but not answered.

The same question came up at the girls session, obviously this was a hot topic of conversation at the playground and needed to be addressed, so Dr. M and I did. Our answer: "Yes, humans can have sex with animals but it is not correct to do it and considered a sexual disorder." Simple, short and to the point answer. This was followed by a raised hand question ie. not an annonymous question "Is is considered animal abuse". THAT WAS THE CONCERN???!!! Not the seedy horrible thoughts adults adscribed to this question but the simple child concern: "Is it considered animal abuse?" Our answer "YES! IT IS".  Adult lesson learned and in one fell sweep, all the playground speculation put to rest.

June is coming up. This is Benjamin's first year of "sex education". Those of you who know him know that he is probably one of the best sex informed children there are so I doubt he will learn anything new. We also have a new principal so who knows if she will ask Dr. M and I to do the honors again but be assured (and I think I speak for Dr. M too) we will continue to answer ALL questions.

Living with the XYs

A few days ago my good friend and colleague Christina posted on facebook a photo of a bookshelf full of white numbered books, from 1 to 22 and two more, X and Y that she took at Cambridge University. THIS photo my friends is a photo of the books that contain the written version of the human code!!!! If that is not the coolest thing you have ever heard of you have to have your head examined. Should I repeat myself? On that shelf sits the HUMAN CODE!!!! in other words THE INSTRUCTIONS THAT MAKE US HUMAN!

EVERY instruction for the human body and human life, from what color eyes and skin you are going to have, to how tall or fat you have the potential to be, how you will make blood, when and how hard and fast your heart will pump, how and how many times your lungs will breathe, how fast your hair and nails will grow, how you will process food ....... need I go on? MOST importanly it has the code for how your neurons will be connected so that you can walk, talk, learn. IT IS ALL THERE. IT IS ALL THERE!!!! ALL OF IT!!! Have I convinced you that this is THE coolest or am I just sounding like a geek? I have always thought that our one almost unique human purpose in life is to create new knowledge. Well, THERE IT IS! One of the most AWESOME achievements EVER. Okay, okay, enough with the nerdiness.

Anyhow, right away the comments started on her photo: "Really? We really need two books for the Y chromosome? I thought one page would have been enough". To which Christina responded: "I suspect an XY compiled it, the font is probably larger in the Y - it is all about perception." Christina is very funny you should know. To these two I responded: "They need a lot of code for the I-can't-find-it gene because it is a very complicated molecular process, it requires code for 1) perusing casually for item, 2) not finding, 3) neuronal lack of problem solving and 4) language to convince XX to look and find the item."

I know all about the "I-can't-find-it-gene" you see because I live with the XYs. I gave half of my DNA to two of them. I provided my sturdy X and Dad came along with his Y. A good Y I will say but still a very typical Y. Both of them are great and very very bright but for some unfanthomable reason cannot find the 2 gallon carton of milk in the fridge. I keep stressing a two second look WITHOUT moving other items in the fridge will not do but it goes unheard, damn the genetic code!

The same goes for the "Really?-that-smells?-gene". I am also familiar with that one. It starts like this, find shirt on floor from yesterday's field hockey practice and put it on regardless of it's odor, walk by the XX (in this case me - the mother), watch her wretch from the smell and ask "Really? It smells?" the genetic code for that one is quite short. It requires one thing and one thing only: ANOSMIA, for those of you unfamiliar with the word anosmia is a lack of functioning olfaction, or in other words, an inability to perceive odors. I am sure that the code for that is not necessarily always on the Y chromosme but in this house it seems to be a Y-linked trait. Together with the "I-do-not-have-an-opinion-as-to-what-shoes-you-should-wear-with-that-dress" gene.

Fortunately in this house, the resident Y chromosomes also came with a few good genes including the "I-made-sure-there-was-some-OJ-left-for-your-breakfast-tomorrow" gene, the "Tell-me-all-about-your-day" gene and my personal favourite the "Can-I-do-anything-to-help?" gene. You should know however, that this last one required LOTS of epigenetic regulation in the shape of nagging and it took a while to demethylate but I am pretty sure I've got it working.

I am not loud, I am just Mexican.

Last year I was sitting at an Atlanta airport gate waiting for my flight back to Vancouver and noticed a beautiful little girl no more than five, who was roaming around. She was taking things out of other people's bags and sticking her head in front of other people's computer monitors. A woman had her lunch on her lap and she walked right up and took a fry and when her mother tried to stop her she had one of those epic tantrums with lots of screaming and stomping.

As a develomental peadiatrician all of my "spidey senses" were on alert. I am thinking, mmmhhhh, there is something different about this little girl. She does not look unsual but her behaviour is unusal. I could also tell most of the other people sitting at the gate were starting to get annoyed and having this I-cannot-believe-how-MISbehaved-she-is! look on their faces and WHY don't her parents do something about it? attitude. Once her mother had her a little more settled and the screaming had stopped she takes her jacket off and ................. THERE IT WAS!!! THE reason for her behaviour. She had a T-shirt on that said: "I am not rude. I have autism".

Now, I could tell EVERYONE at the gate was having an "aha" moment and the group's attitude changed. The lady with the lunch was now OFFERING her fries, the man witth the computer was now TURNING the screen for her to see and when she had another melt down people's looks were ones of "I get it". They even offered to help.

I had another similar experience at the Ottawa airport (I spend a lot of time at airports) where a good looking young man would loudly grunt and shout "cunt, pussy, bitches" repeatedly. I sat there and knew - Tourette syndrome. But was still shocked the first time I heard it.

It continued as he got on the plane. The anxiety was rising for all to think that we might have five hours of this on the plane and it was getting worse, he was getting louder and it was happening more often. If  this was distressing to the passengers imagine how this very nice young man felt at his inability to control his behaviour! By some weird luck, his seat was next to this lovely couple with a little baby and we could all tell that was not a good arrangement. Everyone in the back four rows, me included, had to play musical chairs and finally he ended up seated in the back row with two other very mature, very kind young men. Before takeoff the pilot made an announcement overhead that informed everyone the passenger had Tourette syndrome and his outbursts were involuntary. Things went well, no problems, no complaints, even though his outburst continued for the whole flight except when he fell asleep.

Both of these experiences have got me thinking, we all have our issues don't we? It's just that ours may not be outwardly visible and obvious. I wonder, what would my T-shirt say? "I am not loud, I am just Mexican" (sorry about the stereotype! but in my case it is true). Or "I get really cranky without Diet Coke" (no, I am not a paid advertisement - this also happens to be true). Or to address my self-image insecurity: "I have a very big behind but you should know I am pretty fit and I run almost every day." Or maybe even: "I have a hard time saying no". Hang on, nope, forget that last one, NOT a good idea. It might lead to some inappropriate moments and requests.

Maybe, before every flight the pilot would have to announce: "Warning to all: the lady sitting in 13C is very chatty and she always wants to be right" or much likely (and accurate): "Be aware on 20A, the woman sitting next to you tends to make EXCEEDINGLY strong emotional attachments that can at times seem very intrusive and may even border on psychotic. Good luck to you".

Evidence to this last one: last year I sent a very expensive Canucks jersey to this die-hard Bruins fan that I talked to for like 15 minutes on a bus in Boston (right before the Stanley cup play-offs against the Bruins I might add!) not only because I thought he should support the better team :))) but also because he very kindly allowed me to use his bus pass so I could get into South Station to use the bathroom while he looked after my luggagge. I know, crazy right? So, yeah, this last description works.

Canadian socialized medicine: myths and facts.

I have to say that I have been paying only on and off attention to the whole health care debate in the US. I have also listened to the news with limited interest and peripherally gone online to read some of the arguments. And I confess, I have done this all with the smug satisfaction of knowing that my health care and that of my family does not depend on the debate. 

Today, I read in a New Yorker article (thank you for the humurous post Dr. Aubertin) that in the debate arguments against socialized medicine and how ineffective it’s supposed to be, the Canadian plan was likened to genocide and I found myself shaking my head and saying: "These fools, what are they thinking? Where do they get their information?" The definition of genocide as per Merriam-Webster is: "the deliberate and systematic destruction, in whole or in part, of an ethnic, racial, religious, or national group. I have been in Canada for 21 years and I am a doctor, let me assure everyone I have no knowledge of people dying by the hundreds due to lack of health care.

To dispells the myths all that was needed was to quote Wikipedia! YES! Wi-ki-pe-dia!!!! I am not one to advocate the use of Wikipedia for solid information (althoug it often is - do not tell my kids or students I said that!) but if someone is going to make such uniformed statements the least they could do was have a quick look at it. So I have cut and pasted (so simple you'd think some of the anti-Obamacare lawyers could have had a look in advance eh?) the "Health care in Canada" entry here. A truthful, accessible, short and most of all, TRUE description of the Canadian health care system:

1) Health care in Canada is delivered through a publicly funded health care system, which is mostly free at the point of use and has most services provided by private entities.

2) It is guided by the provisions of the Canada Health Act of 1984.

3) The government assures the quality of care through federal standards.

4) The government does not participate in day-to-day care or collect any information about an individual's health, which remains confidential between a person and his or her physician.

5) Canada's provincially based Medicare systems are cost-effective partly because of their administrative simplicity. In each province each doctor handles the insurance claim against the provincial insurer. There is no need for the person who accesses health care to be involved in billing and reclaim. Private insurance is only a minimal part of the overall health care system.

6) Competitive practices such as advertising are kept to a minimum, thus maximizing the percentage of revenues that go directly towards care. In general, costs are paid through funding from income taxes, although British Columbia is the only province to impose a fixed monthly premium which is waived or reduced for those on low incomes.

7) There are no deductibles on basic health care and co-pays are extremely low or non-existent (supplemental insurance such as Fair Pharmacare may have deductibles, depending on income).

8) A health card is issued by the Provincial Ministry of Health to each individual who enrolls for the program and everyone receives the same level of care.There is no need for a variety of plans because virtually all essential basic care is covered, including maternity and infertility problems.

9) Depending on the province, dental and vision care may not be covered but are often insured by employers through private companies. In some provinces, private supplemental plans are available for those who desire private rooms if they are hospitalized.

10) Cosmetic surgery and some forms of elective surgery are not considered essential care and are generally not covered. These can be paid out-of-pocket or through private insurers.

11) Health coverage is not affected by loss or change of jobs, as long as premiums are up to date, and there are no lifetime limits or exclusions for pre-existing conditions.

12) Pharmaceutical medications are covered by public funds for the elderly or indigent,or through employment-based private insurance. Drug prices are negotiated with suppliers by the federal government to control costs.

So NO, NOT genocide just sound, cost-effectvie medical care for all.

You know you are 46 when ...

1) You look around in a movie theater (while waiting to get tickets to the Iron Lady who you know ONLY old people would watch) and realize that you and your friend are the OLDEST people there.

2) You find yourself bruised and have no idea how it happened.

3) You know who "The Smiths" are/were.

4) You dread the word "bifocals" more than any other word in the English dictionary.

5) You find yourself eating the same things most of the time because any foray into untapped dietary territory provokes incredible GI distress.

6) Your running playlist includes Michael Jackson, Erasure and Depeche Mode.

7) You find yourself looking for creative ways to hide forehead lines - bangs!

8) You can name every actor in The Breakfast Club, Sixteen Candles and Pretty in Pink.

9) You are still a little bit in love with Andrew McCarthy

10) Everytime you travel you actually ask the hotel, before making a reservation what kind of mattresses they have otherwise you end up sleeping horizontally across the headboard, because that is the only place where the mattress is decent and sleep hygiene is a top priority.

11) You can discipline with one look.

12) You pump up the volume in the car and loudly sing along to Tear for Fears "Shout".

13) You start to think that maybe just maybe you are actually beginning to look a LOT like your mother.

14) You have the self confidence to say EXACTLY what you mean.

15) You'd rather have a good brain than a good rack.

Multicultural Canada or just "regular" people.

Today Benjamin came home from school to announce that his good friend is adopted. This to my absolute astonishment as she is, after all, African-American and her mother is as caucasian as they come. At first I thought he was joking, so I ask "Are you seriously surprised?" Yes, he is serious. "You mean you did not know?" and he says; "Of course not she looks JUST like her mother" Now I am even more baffled because I know he is smart: how could he not come up with this conclusion? Then it strikes me, the kid is color blind and I do not mean biological color blindness but social color blindness.

This has happened in the past. Two years ago he came home talking about Charlotte. How Charlotte and him were reading Harry Potter and she was a great reader. So we had a week of Charlotte did this and Charlotte did that. I of course had no idea who Charlotte was so I asked him to describe her to me, this way I could narrow the girls in his class down and hopefully figure out who this wonderful Charlotte was. His answer: "I don't know, she has dark hair" Ok, dark hair now I can eliminate 5 or 6 girls but I am still not even close. So I ask; "What color are her eyes?" and he answers "Who knows". No amount of questions could narrow the field down. A few weeks later I go to get him from school and he bounds up to me with this beautiful little Korean girl by his side - the famous Charlotte. In the car I ask "Hey why didn't you tell me Charlotte was Korean, that would have made it a lot easier for me to know who she was?" and he says "I didn't know she was Korean, she is just regular, you know, like everyone else."

Oh Canada! Our home and native land! Muticulturalism at it's best !!! And even better children don't even KNOW we are multicultural or at least they don't in the early years. To them or at least to mine everyone is just "regular" people. Isn't this great? Is this the generation that finally gets it right?

It reminds me of the time when we were in Church the very week that same sex marriage was approved in Canada and there is Father Paul at the pulpit talking about how we as catholics probably all have friends who are gay and how we must be confused about how to think of this same sex marriage decision and how confusing it must be to be congruent with our faith and it's beliefs but still be accepting. How catholic faith teaches compassion yet we are not being compassionate to people who are gay with our beliefs and on and on and on he went ..... confusion this and confusion that. As we leave the church Sebastian, who at the time must have been no more than 5 says to me: "So Mama, isn't same sex marriage when a boy marries a boy or a girl marries a girl." And I answer "Yes it is" and he says: "So I don't get it, WHY is Father Paul so confused?!" Yep! this kind of insight and wisdom at age five!!!

So as I see Sebastian head out tonight in a group of teenagers made up of one boy whose mother is Sri-Lankan and father is Argentinian, another whose parents are Chinese, another whose parents come from South Africa, another with an Peruvian father and Scottish mother and him, my Sebastian, Canadian father, Mexican mother I smile to myself and say Benjamin is right ---- just regular people.

Lauren's circuit class and Halle Berry

I work out at the gym with a personal trainer fairly regularly (at least 2 times a week) and run (at least 3 times a week) but lately my trainer has been sick and since I do not really like to go to the gym I have been avoiding it but I was feeling guilty so last Thursday I mustered enough energy to attend "Lauren's circuit class".

You should know I was very self concious and nervous about going so I texted Lauren a few times asking: "You have seen what I can do at the gym. Am I going to look like an idiot in your class?" While Lauren kindly reassured me that all would be fine.  I arrive for a treadmill run in advance - BIG mistake should have saved my energy for the actual class. Slowly people trickle in and they are all at least a decade younger than me. Already this does not bode well and I am thinking maybe I'll just keep running, forget the class.

Lauren, the Amazonian blonde beauty/trainer sets up a torturous circuit of 10 -13 stations. Anything from lifting an enormous bar, to the stair machine, to rope jumping or planking, or pulley arm work etc... Every one of these stations last 1 minute and then you transition to the next, so it is really like an exercise conveyor belt with very little rest in between.

The fist few minutes are the "warm up", let me tell you this in no gentle warm up it is a fast paced squatting thigh burning introduction of what is to come. Five minutes after this warm up she requests that we chose our first station and I look around for one that will allow me to either sit down (the bike) or lie down (the crunches on the mat), thankfully all of the other 20 to 30 somethings are really fit keeners who chose the hard stations so the easy ones are left for me.

I start with the bike. To my distress this biking has to be done at a level 25 not my regular 12 so I look around to avoid making eye contact with Lauren and lower the resistance thinking ........... noooo problem I can do this. Next is the big huge bar lift. Now, there are an assortment of weights strategically placed next to the bar that one is encouraged to ADD to the already very heavy bar to accommodate all fitness needs. I decide that the bar alone is heavy enough. Next, is the stairclimber. I do this all the time!! This is going to be a breeze - however this climbing is a SPRINT on the STAIRCLIMBER ie. more like super fast jogging up the stairs. I go as fast as I can all the time thinking WHY? WHY? am I doing this?

On to the arm work which should be a lot easier right? NO! This arm work requires that you squat at a 90 degree angle while leaning on the wall and lifting the 25 lb ball over your head first and then in front of you repeatedly for a whole minute! Burning biceps but I finish while all the time trying to convince myself that this will lead to Jennifer Aniston-like toned arms.

On to the jump rope, an activity I have avoided since age 12 due to the top heaviness mentioned in previous blogs. I jump like a girl. ie. I take that extra little jump in between the big over the rope jump so I look like an idiot but hey, I'm killing some calories. This goes on and on with all kinds of challenges. After one circuit she requests that we get on the machines for two minutes of cardio, CARDIO??!! Isn't that what we were doing? You mean to all others this is NOT cardio? Yikes!

Then we go back for the second circuit and I feel and do much better. At the end when I am ready to plop of the floor for some rest she asks us to get on the floor mats for the "Jane Fonda" leg workout. Not exactly a leg workout and more like an insanely painful butt workout but again I use positive thinking: "THIS one will lead to me getting a J. Lo type ass".

The next day I had a hard time getting in and out of the car, going up the stairs, sitting down, writing, feeding myself, even brushing my hair and my teeth. I have two more days to decide if I should go again and I am doing this by convincing myself that my commitment will eventually lead to me looking like Halle Berry did when she walked out of the ocean in that orange belted bikini in that James Bond movie. Hey, whatever works right?