The deMented Mom

Sometimes I wonder how the hell I got here. How did I end up with four kids and four dogs and husband 2.0? You'd think that at 45 I'd finally have my shit together but I'm still as flaky and undecided today as I was when I was 25 and contemplating marriage for the first but not last time. I'm seeing a therapist. I resisted this final nail in my proverbial mental health coffin until I just couldn't deny that if I didn't offload this crap to someone, I might just explode. It's not helping.   Duck for cover.    

So, I have ADD. Apparently it's true because my doctor told me so. I'm still cogitating on this wee bit of news. I'll get back to you soon, when I figure it all out. In the meantime, I've changed the name of my blog to indicate that perhaps I needed to go in a different direction after all... Hold the phone...I'll be right back...

When I was a little girl I swore I would never be like my mother.  Without inadvertently throwing myself the proverbial pity party- suffice it to say she was a bat-shit crazy bitch. Over the four plus decades of my life I've done my best to hang on to my sanity lest I succumb to the suckfest that seems to be my maternal genetic gift.  Apart from the fiasco that was my first marriage, I think I've managed to dodge that bullet--until now. My daughter is 15. She, along with her 17 year old special needs brother, is the only meaningful and positive thing to come out of said marriage. Really, I suppose just acknowledging that I am trying to raise a perpetually PMS'ing girl and a rigid, socially awkward boy may give me the reassurance I need that if my cheese is only now attempting to slide off my cracker-I haven't done a half bad job of keeping it together.  I'm struggling right now. Both mentally and physically. I'm not really sure what my main problem is but

So I've been absent for awhile. A good six months plus to be exact. Yep, pulled the blog from public consumption while I attended to life. We have to do these things sometimes. Life's like that. I've been busy on my blogging sabbatical. As I've mentioned in posts previously, I am a runner/jogger. Something I took up somewhat reluctantly in my quest to get a handle on my middle-aged spread. Turns out that I liked pounding the pavement to such an extent that I am currently in my taper week prior to running the BMO Vancouver Marathon on May 1st. That's 42.2K of staying upright and moving for the better part of 5+ hours (or 26.1 miles for those of you south of the border). I'm both sad and excited about taking part in this race. Sad that all those great weeks of training with a hilarious bunch of ladies is coming to an end but so excited to get the bling when I cross that finish line...whether it's on my own two feet or because a kind soul drags my prostrat

"I'm not one to judge"..."She shouldn't judge other people"..."You have no right to judge me". I hear these phrases all the time and I have to admit to being guilty of uttering variations of them myself. Yet as I've unwillingly entered my 40's , I find myself doing exactly that ...judging the choices people make. Now before I am inundated with nasty comments about 'intolerance' and 'hypocrisy' let me make myself abundantly clear, I do not for one minute believe that it is OK to judge another person based on race, religion, sexual preference, level of education, or physical attributes (I'm sure I've missed some other important things but you get my drift), on the flip side however, I don't believe that we should be so non-judgmental that we blindly accept anyone or anything. The ability and duty to judge the actions of others is what defines us as a civilized society. It is the very act of imposing our judgm

If taking a moment to poke around, you may notice that there are some blank pages...please bear with me. I have been moving stuff around and importing old blog posts into this new blog format. Hopefully I will be back to sharing my awesomeness soon ;-)