Age ain't nuthin' buttah numbah... that gradually increases around one's waist

Who knew my 35th year would be the year my body decided to fail me. I sure didn't.

I won't bore you with the infertility, muscle cramps, thryoidectomy, heel spurs, arthritic wrists, back pain and gravity-challenged breasts. But I will share the dark demon known as metabolic betrayal. What the eff is up with this body I don't recognize anymore?? Granted, I'm not the most active girl in the change room, but really, I've never been that girl and I've still somehow managed to have a body that I can "live with" when confronted with my wicked stepmother, Madam Mirror.

But NOW! NOW, I'm all of a sudden not recognizing myself and it's troubling to say the least. I've even misjudged the space my hips take up in public spaces and have had to endure the shock of "not fitting." We're talking seats on the subway, namely. A horrifying discovery to say the least.

My face is the width of Silken Laumann's shoulders. The bags under my eyes could store Don's lunch. Who needs blue jeans when I can live my life forever in blue veins.

Soooo... I've resorted to trusty ol' Weight Watchers---the only way I know how to bring back some semblance of the body I once knew. Xmas day marks one week since I started and it's weigh-in day. Because I'm doing WW Online, I'll be weighing myself. (Fine by me, as I've come to the conclusion that WW meetings are not my thang.)

My starting weight? 179lbs. My goal weight? 145.

I've attached a pic of myself when I was at that very weight of 145. Just before I moved to Edmonton. Oh, Edmonton---how could you?

Have Yourself a Merry Anti-Xmas

So for various reasons, my 35th Xmas will be the least Xmas-y Xmas ever. And frankly, I'm cool with that.

But I'm also very cool with the fact that my dear brother Doug and his lovely wife Kristin will be popping in for some quick 'nog n' nosh on Xmas afternoon. They will be our only guests, and I anxiously await their arrival. Especially since....

... they're expecting their first baby!!! My first neice or nephew! My parents' first grandchild!

It's all very exciting.

Naturally, my ultra-sensitive brother was apprehensive about sharing the news with his faultily-wired sister, but I assured him it was news I wanted to hear. It was news that made my heart full.

This coming spring, Doug and Kristin's lives will change forever with the arrival of this little mystery creature. And I for one, know that little one is in good hands.

Work on your bedside manner, lady

I had a rather upsetting experience yesterday, one that frankly I could have done without considering everything else on my plate.

A little background... last month I had a physical for the purposes of getting some paperwork signed by my family doctor for our homestudy. Turned out my own doctor was away so a replacement filled in. She said that the signature would have to wait until my family doctor arrived back. Meanwhile, I proceeded with all the annual check-up questions and threw in the fact that I had a few episodes of anxiety and depression of late (Gee, I wonder why?!) and that I might want to explore the possibility of some counselling---something I've done in the past and has worked well.

So jump ahead to Dec. 4th and I'm sitting in the office with my doctor. A chilly woman on a good day, an ice queen on her worst. So I explain why I'm there (was also there to get bloodwork results on thyroid, insulin and calcium levels). She rifles through my folder and finds the adoption paperwork. She unenthusiastically begins filling out the necessary fields and then she notes the mention of depression on the report filed by the replacement one month earlier. I believe her warm opening on the subject was something along the lines of "So, what's this (the depression) all about?"

I began to explain my occasional anxiousness and tendency to dwell on certain issues, how I sometimes fear it may affect my performance at work etc. WELL, that's enough to make her put the pen down. "I can't fill this out in this period of time. You're going to have to make a 30 minute appointment and I need to find out more about this depression. I really think you should experiment with your higher levels of thyroid medication. Also, I may have to request a psychiatric evaluation.

A PSYCHIATRIC EVALUATION!? WHY?

Because I drag my heels every once in a while? Because I haven't had a good laugh in a couple of weeks? Because I obsess about home renos a little more than the average HGTV-aholic? Eat one too many pastries in a weekend?

Gimme a break.

I joke, but really I'm shitting my pants. No matter how normal I feel, or those who know and love me---this woman has the upper hand and I have to let her swing it however she deems necessary. Plus, I've got to bite my tongue when I feel the urge to challenge her or defend myself (something I find very difficult to do when I feel poorly treated or wrong done by).

I'm posting (what else!) another Jessie Wilcox Smith illustration. I love this one because both the mother and baby look so incredibly peaceful in one another's arms. It looks like the baby has just awoken from a nap and the mother has yet to discover the sweet open saucers. Or maybe mom is so at peace, she's about to nod off herself.

Oh, to be that mother.

No, it's not a new necklace...

... it's my effing keloid scar. I honestly can't remember if I've briefed all of you on this albatross around my neck. You all know about the thyroidectomy but did you know that the scar didn't heal properly and I developed a keloid scar ( a raised scar that has a tight, burning sensation that can continue to grow into something incredibly unsightly?).

Anyway, I had the keloid removed and now I have several months of cortizone injections to supress the overacting scar tissue. This is not fun for several reasons. The doctor is notorious for long wait times in the waiting room. I waited for 3 hours today. Also, needles in the neck are never fun, especially when the freezing doesn't take. I kid you not. I had a needle to freeze the site today, waited 15 minutes for it to take and it killed when he adminstered the first injection. He then applied a topical anesthetic cream that took half an hour to numb me up. On top of this, the tissue is so hard, his arm actually shakes when he's pushing the needle in.

When I signed on to have this thyroidectomy, I had no idea this is what I'd be in for. I honestly don't know if I would have done it, if I'd known what I know now.

And did I mention, it's been a bit of an emotional adjustment? The neck I've known for 34 years is different---forever. I hate looking at this thing. It's a blemish I could definitely live without.

Sorry for the selfish rant.

Onto happier subjects---like the fact that I've grown to LOVE the Leslieville area of Toronto. This pocket of the T-dot really floats my boat. Even though I've never been to the Williamsburg section of Brooklyn, I have a feeling the two might be sisters. Bristling with creativity and a laid back, anti-scenester vibe, L-ville seems to know the recipe for smart local business development that supports independents and manages to keep its ego in check. One can only hope that it fends off the fate of places like West Queen West and 48 Abell Street...

I'm going to do my part as a Leslieville fan and attend the First Annual Holiday Wanderlust this Thursday... can't wait.

Extra! Extra! Tell all your friends about it.

In roughly 2 months time, Don and I will be engaged in some serious self promotion in our efforts to find a match with a birthmother. We've taken on the design services of a girl I work with named Andrea and we plan to put together a real whiz bang booklet to distribute to anyone who might know someone who would be in a position to offer us a baby to call our own.

Last week, I sat down and drafted the "More about Sarah" page and it was the ultimate exercise in self reflection. In the space of one page, I wrote about my childhood, my teens, my professional life and my dreams of being a mom.

This past weekend was full of family fun. Mom, Dad and sister Mary visited and we got in some nice quality time. I even helped Mare with some homework from her advertising class. In a lovely twist of genetic symbiosis, it appears as though Mary is following in her sister's footsteps and has knack for the ol' marketing writing. Good on ya, Mare.

On the pop culture front---a couple of things---Tom Cruise---you're eff-ed up. Katie---you're dick-whipped and brainwashed. Suri---you're adorable and free to be adopted by Don and I any time---preferably before you can pronounce "Scientology."

*Note: Photo above taken this past weekend. One of the perks of not being pregnant? Mindless consumption of red wine.

Baby wants a day off

So gang---what has happened in the last few weeks that's worth noting? Well, the second homestudy meeting has come and gone and we can rest easy knowing that our respective upbringings were loving and healthy and perfect training ground for our future as parents. The references from family and friends are rolling in (Thanks, guys!) and our only snafu was that we didn't send a money order along with our police check, so it got mailed back. That's now taken care of and all we really have to worry about is putting together our "promo booklet".

This coming Wednesday, my co-worker and friend Andrea is coming over to help us brainstorm our booklet. Andrea is a gifted graphic designer and I know she'll give us a leg up when it comes time to "get our names out there".

Today, I am taking a much needed day off work to essentially do nothing. A little blogging, a little snoozing, a little cuppa tea, a little daydreaming.

What baby wants, baby gets.

I haven't mentioned my crafting bug lately but just so you all know, it's still there. The crafty mavens dotting the universe have not ceased to amaze me with their brilliance and I long to be one of them. The ideas are in swirling in my head---I just have to make them happen!

The one thing I would LOVE to master the art of is sewing a basic baby sundress, Crew neck, broad strap, A-line sundress. Maybe with a couple of pockets to store the odd jellybean in.

My buddy Sarah McCallum has graciously offered to loan me her sewing machine for a stretch so I can learn the basics and (hopefully) graduate to ownership of my own machine (specifically, this one).

One baby I'd love to make a sundress for is the darling one you see above. Sweet Charlotte Smith, daughter of my friends Kate and Sean. It took me 10 months to finally meet this little ball of cute and it was well worth the wait. Don was quite smitten with her too---particularly with her docile manner. I'm afraid she's set the bar high for the babe that ends up in our arms.

Ok, baby wants lunch. Baby's gonna get....

Putting the DO in aDOption.

So, I've been promising an update on the adoption pursuit. So here we go...

On September 26th, Don and I met with our homestudy social worker for the first time. Thankfully, we really hit it off and think she's just great. The fact that she also does social work on the other side (with birth mothers) is a real bonus, in our opinion.

The past few weeks have been spent checking various requisites off the list---fingerprints sent to RCMP, asking friends and family to be references, booking medicals, filling applications out, and perhaps the most interesting task---writing our letter to the birth mother. Challenging because we know we need to make ourselves stand out amongst all the other prospective parents, but also enjoyable because it was a real exercise in expressing our desire to be parents. You realize that most parents don't always take the time to answer this question in any great detail. But when you do---you actually walk away with a better sense of what you both want out of life and it's really quite lovely and enriching, if I can be so fromage.

I toyed with posting our letter here on the blog but I think I'll wait until our mini Web page is posted to www.canadaadopts.com ---likely in a few weeks.

Next meeting with the social worker is Oct. 26th. Main subject of discussion? Our own childhoods...

San Frantastic

Ok, this entry is a wee but overdue but better late than never. I had the unforgettable pleasure of spending 4 days in San Francisco with my good friend, Jilly. AKA, Gillian Keith, soprano extraordinaire. She was performing in Berkeley (in an amazing "dramatick/ semi-opera" interpretation of "King Arthur", put on by the Mark Morris Dance Group), and she graciously offered me half her bed at the Hotel Durant for free! How could I not go?

Anyway, I had an incredible visit. Albeit, far too brief. What an amazing city. Colourful, liberal, hill-y, intelligent and strangely un-American. And did I mention how amazing the coffee is? San Franciscans clearly get their coffee. Particularly, Blue Bottle Coffee, a funky hole-in-the-wall located in an alley (yes, an alley) in the Hayes Valley district. The best cappucino I've ever had in my life. Accompanied by the perfect sized walnut shortbread and peanut butter cookies. I was transported to another dimension.

They also get their food. Local, seasonal and simple. The Ferry Plaza Market was dreamy. Jill and I also had a delicious meal (and a tantalizing Bloody Mary) at The Zuni Cafe.

Shopping of course was grand too. Next time, I plan to spend more time on Filmore Street. And there *will* be a next time, I assure you.

*Above pics of Blue Bottle Coffee and heirloom tomatoes at the Ferry Plaza Market.

Banksgiving

I' ve been somewhat irregular with the posts lately. Must do something about that.

I've got next to no time to say much of anything right now, as I'm at work and have a leadership training workshop to go to in 5 minutes. But I will say that Thanksgiving at the Banks was lovely. Mom, Dad, brother and sister-in-law, and Sarah and Tony.

Will write more later---specifically about the homestudy and my trip to San Fran.

For now, here's a pic of Banksgiving 2006.

Good times with the in-laws

Just a quick post to celebrate the fact that I was blessed with lovely in-laws. Sweet, helpful, unimposing in-laws who clearly love their son as much as I do. They've been with us for 4 days and they head back to Edmonton tomorrow.

We capped off our visit at the famed Golden Gate Restaurant (AKA "The Goof" to locals) in the Beaches tonight. Awesome Chinese food! Great service! See the pics.

We'll miss them very much.

On a completely different note----tomorrow is our first meeting with the adoption practitioner, Angela. Wish us luck!

Nope

Even a bountiful basketful of eggs doesn't help me get pregnant. I took a test just over an hour ago. Only one friggin' pink line. You can't help but think cosmic forces are conspiring against you when you watch that magical pee make its' little journey across the stick.

I actually left work at lunch today feeling strangely nauseus. Making Don's lunch this morning made me gag. Some guy's oily hair on the streetcar was too much for me to bear. On top of that, I felt like I'd been hit by a MAC truck. So can you blame me for being hopeful on my way to drugstore?

Oh well. I'm practically immune to disappointment now. At least on that front.

Time to switch gears. Adoption, here we come.

Turning a new leaf

Well, today is the day I'm supposed to take a pregnancy test, according to the doctors at the RBU. Today is the day I find out if I'm expecting quads or just rain. (For those who don't know already, I produced an unusual number of follicles this cycle---4 potentially viable eggs). I honestly don't know if pregnancy symptoms start this early (in the 2 weeks following ovulation) but I really haven't had anything that would make me think I finally got lucky. Besides, I'm too occupied with a thrown out back (today is my second day off work) and some very irritating stinging that's going on with my thyroid scar.

When I get the results of the test later today, I predict I'll let my shoulders down and happily resign myself to "fertile failure." I'm more than ready to start the adoption chapter in our lives. Perhaps I'll begin crafting a profile like this.

Part of doing a profile like the one above will be proving that Don and I are good with kids (with the help of visual aids like the photos above).

Photos
Me with my friend Hilary's daughter Jayda in Winnipeg, Manitoba
Don with his friend James' son Walker in Canmore, Alberta

Saving Grace

Just a little plug for my favourite breakfast joint in Toronto, Saving Grace. We went there with Sarah and Tony on Saturday before we headed to Niagara Falls and the four us salivated over the plates of heaven before us.

Apparently it's also a favourite of Sarah Polley and the lead singer of Sloan.

Check it.

No skeletons here

Funny how a closet can change your life. Okay, that's a bit melodramatic but really, I feel like a million bucks with this new closet....

New house! New friends! New sister-in-law! Oh my!

Unforgivable! How do you all go so long without your Small Fry fix?!

Bottom line. This entry is long overdue. And I have lots to talk about.

Let's start with the fact that I'm still not pregnant and I'm pretty much resigned to the fact that I won't be (unless I stop trying, adopt a little one and get lucky because my hormones are all of a sudden happy and productive).

Currently in the middle of our last fertility drug cycle (no IUI this time---3 was not a charm) and already have our first homestudy meeting with the adoption practitioner on September 26th. Gearing up for the probing grill of questions but really, I'm not that nervous. I know we'll do just fine.

Moved into the new house roughly 3 weeks ago and I'm loving it. I really feel at home and could see us here for a good long while. In the next couple of weeks, we're having a custom built-in wardrobe installed and most of the house will be painted. We ordered a nice new bed ( a low-profile, robin's egg blue birch sleigh bed---ultra cottage-y--just the way I like it).

Sarah and Tony (AKA McCally and T-Bonze) arrived a couple of weeks ago and we've been showing them their new hometown. Such fun! Methinks they like it here.

On August 19th, my brother and his new wife Kristin had a celebratory post-wedding Ottawa BBQ with family and friends and I got a little wasted. FUN! We also managed to fit in a visit with Owen and Sandra, who had their first baby, Alison, in July. Obviously we saw this a great photo opp for our adoptive parents online gallery, as you can see above.

Toronto population grows by 2

In less than a week, our dear pals Sarah and Tony make the move from Edmonton to the T-dot and we couldn't be happier.

Sarah will be here to expand her cerebral capacity by doing her Masters in Classics at UofT and Tony Baloney will no doubt explore his artistic talents at every turn.

They will be fine additions to the "centre of the universe."

Come Sarah and Tony! We're waiting for you!

*The above pic was taken at mine and Don's farewell last August just before we moved to the T-dot. Who knew that these two cuties would join us a year later...

The world needs more cottage life

I just lost a long post and I simply don't have it in me to re-write tonight. In a nutshell---here's what I had to say:

• This past weekend was spent at Uncle Jim's cottage in the 1000 Islands. Weather was perfect and we had a great time
• In a paradoxically modest yet bold move, my Mom exited the cottage sans wig and looked great. Free from synthetic hell, she let her Judi Dench do catch a breath of fresh air and I told she should go wig-free from that day onward
• Don was unusually wussy when it came to fully submerging his body in the waters of the St. Lawrence. "It's too cold! It feels like knives!" (I say he was wussy, but really it was kinda of cute in a pathetic way ;)
• Great food, lots of laughs and the ever-present reminder that the simple life is the best way to live...

What a taxing day

As I type this entry, I'm sitting in the offices of H&R Block at King and University. Making use of free Internet while I wait for my taxman, Lawrence Lazarus to show up. (Crazy name, eh?)

Yes, for the first time in my life, I was late filing. Reason? Freelancing doesn't produce T4s. It produces mounds of receipts that (as I'm quickly discovering) don't amount to much in the end.

*Skip ahead 1.5 hours: I've just arrived home from TaxmanLand. Shocking to admit but I made a paltry $15K last year and I still manage to owe the government $1500. That's with roughly $3000 in business expenses. To quote Dennis Miller: "I'm SICK of bein' hassled by the Man."

*The lovely picture you see here was taken back circa '92 at Carleton University when the only thing that was taxing me were exams. I'm not sure how this prom dress made the grade, but here it is, in all its whore-y glory.

I'd like my eggs ovary easy please

Another $800 down the tube. I got my period today. Thus begins another pointless cycle. And my last one, I might add. Called in my "Day One" to Mt. Sinai. My emotionless voice over the phone sounded like Steven Wright.

"Hi, this is Sarah Wilkinson calling in with Day One on Monday. I'd appreciate a Day 3 appointment at your earliest possible time. 7 or 7:15am would be great. Thanks a lot. Bye."

I'm so fucking sick of this, you have no idea.

On the brighter side of life, Don and I had a nice weekend in Stratford. The Glass Menagerie was wonderful (heavy and sad, but very moving). We ate well and encountered quaintness at every corner. I've attached a couple of pics.

Yellow Tail did something crazy to me

Ok, folks---it's rare that I do two blog entries in one day but my experience with a certain wine (Yellow Tail Chardonnay) and movie (Match Point) made me do it.

The wine (which I've had before---it was served at our wedding) was strangely intoxicating (both literally and figuratively) for the both of us. Combine that magic with a suprisingly erotic Woody Allen thriller and you've got a memorable night. Jonathan Rhys Myers meets Scarlett Johannson is scintillating.

I think I'll be stocking up on Yellow Tail for the remainder of the summer. Don said it reminded him of the fall leaves on our wedding day. I told him it smelled like candy floss.

Getting excited about the move

August 11th is the day we can finally call 18 Glenmore Rd. home. I'm really looking forward to it. We drove by it today and wandered around the Beaches and it all felt good.

There's a discernably different vibe in the Beaches. It's the Venice Beach of Toronto. Very laid back, liberal and, well, beachy. I like.

Today I made a brownie recipe that I snagged from a girl at work. Really very delicious (there's 1 cup of Guiness in them!) but it's bad for this girl to have too much of a good thing within her reach.

Yesterday, Don and I went to a Blue Jays game with my folks. It was an awesome game. Went for 14 innings and the Jays won! I should mention that my Mom finished her radiation last week and now she's on the road to recovery. She's in fine form, I must say. Just anxious to have her hair back.

Looking forward to the 4 day work week I have ahead of me. Don and I are off to Stratford for 2 days on Friday. I'm told I should expect a very charming little Ontario town. I've seen many in my life and I never tire of them. I'm sure we'll have a great time.

I'll be taking a pregnancy test a week from tomorrow. Not optimistic but I'm pretty used to the disappointment.

While I wait for a child of my own, I've decided that I'm going to pursue being a Big Sister (*Annette: thanks for the encouragement). I'll begin the application process this week and hopefully I'll have a match by the fall. I'm thinking I'll ask for a 13 year-old.

Must run. Off to finish making a lovely cold pasta salad with roasted garlic and tomatoes.

*Above pics of Jays game yesterday

Ah, simpler times

Got this pic from my Mom today. It's me and my brother circa 1980. That's an OLD remote on Doug's lap. It's mammoth! It's a great pic to analyze. I'm in my nightie and Dougie has yet to get his pyjamas on. Hyperactivity (as evidenced by his juvenile display) is likely to blame. I have no idea where we are. That couch rings zero bells for me. I'd love to know what has Doug in stitches. This was before he got all intellectual and shit, so his cause for laughter likely has something to with pure idiocy.

Why I'm clutching my neck, I'll never know. My thyroid was the size of a baby oyster back then.

Speaking of babies, it's been a while since I briefed you all on our reproductive adventures. I know you're brimming with curiosity.

We just completed our second IUI on Saturday. I had one healthy follicle ripe for ovulation. The plan was to do one more cycle after this one and then start the homestudy process for adoption in the fall. I just *know* the fertility specialist is going to look at us with disappointment when we tell her we're throwing in the towel. "But you and Don have great chances!" she'll say. "Are you sure?!" I can't say for sure what our response will be but for now, I want to get the wheels in motion for adoption. Each IUI costs roughly $800. Pennies compared to IVF but still, it adds up.

As always, I'm seeing WAY too many glowing pregnant women and yummy mommies. The mothers or mothers-to-be makes me green with envy but seeing the wee ones take 10 years off my face. The wee ones can do no wrong.

There's something about Caitlin

Hey there, Caitlin. You know who you are. But allow me to introduce you to my 5 or 6 other faithful blog readers.

Caitlin, my friends, is a lovely work colleague of mine who happened upon my blog quite innocently while doing some United Way research. When her discovery was revealed to me, I admit I had a momentary panic attack about the damage my trash talk might have on my career. But my fears were fleeting whenI quickly realized that 1) I really have no secrets and 2) I only have good things to say about United Way.

But I couldn't let the girl get away with this knowledge she now has of me without a little tit for tat, if you know what I'm sayin'. So I figured I'd tell the world a little bit about her (mainly because she's an interesting gal).

Caitlin is quite simply the epitome of style and quite frankly, I have a love/hate relationship with her. There are a very small number of people in this world who have a consummate sense of style (Ali McGraw, Jackie Kennedy and Katherine Hepburn are among this elite and gifted group). Little Miss Caitlin is one of them. Terms like "smart", "put together", "crisp", "classic" and "radiant" spring to mind when I see this girl make an entrance. Combine this gift for style with the most perfect head of raven-coloured curls and skin that looks like a child's cheeks fresh from a romp in the fall leaves, and well--- you can see where the hate part comes in. The girl is perfection. Oh, and did I fail to mention that she's as bright as a light and not the least bit pretentious. I guess that's where the love comes in.

*Above you'll see the unmatched beauty of Ali MacGraw--- a woman who doesn't even try to be stylish. She just is. And that, my friends, is half the art of being "a Caitlin."

Thyroid be gone!

Yes, friends. It's true. I lost 28 grams just over a week ago and I didn't need any help from Weight Watchers. Instead, I had my thyroid surgically removed (is there any other way??).

I don't recommend the experience to anyone seeking a little attention. There are better ways to get free mags and ice cream, I can assure you.

The real reason for this nasty procedure was purely precautionary. I had a 2.3 cm growth that had indicated a presence of what's known as Heurthle cells. These can be an indicator of cancer, although 95% of growths removed in these cases are benign so I'm not too concerned. I'll be getting the details of the pathology report this Thursday and I can finally put this thing to bed.

I'm happy to report that the summer has lots of fun in store for Don and I and we're not going to let infertility ruin it. Among the many things we have planned are the following:

• Seeing famed jazz pianist Dave Brubeck in concert at Massey Hall
• Catching a Blue Jays game with my folks
• A two-day trip to Stratford where we'll be staying at this lovely B&B and seeing The Glass Menagerie on stage
• 2 days at my uncle Jim's cottage in the Thousand Islands (this is particularly exciting because Don has never had the qunitessential Ontario cottage experience)
• A day trip to Centre Island
• The big move to our new house
• And last but not least, welcoming our dear friends Sarah and Tony to Toronto where Sarah will be immersing herself in academia and Tony will be embarking on a new chapter in his life as an artist. Can't wait!

Today was my first day back at work after the surgery. Went pretty well, I must say.

Because I'd spent the last 10 days holed up up in either the hospital or condo, my body was in desperate need of some exercise come the weekend, so Don and I took in a little High Park. Witness the green-y wilderness in this shot taken on Sunday.

I needed a little Cali to get my blogging ass in gear

Yes, I've been a touch off the map this past month. Maybe I just needed some quiet time to mourn the passing of Jane Jacobs. Or maybe, just maybe, I needed a little L.A. action to put life in perspective. (On that note, ponder this: why are reality shows produced in the most unreal place in the universe?)

So, Don and I just returned from a 5 day trip to California. I'd never been so it was quite the eye opening experience. We stayed at the Hotel California (replete with surfboards for headboards and the requisite cockroach). To its credit, we were steps from the Santa Monica Pier and pretty much everything else we needed to feel like an honorary Californian for a few days.

It was our good friend Bill's wedding that brought us there. Bill is a tranplanted Albertan who makes his living as an animator in Hollywood. His latest work? Garfield II: A Tail of Two Kitties.
Anyway, it was a lovely affair held at a ranch in Malibu. Weather was perfect. Vows were refreshingly unconventional. Good times were had. In fact, good times were made even better by the fact that the Oilers won the Western Conference Semi Finals. GOILERS!!!!

Sadly, the only celeb we spotted was American Idol's 2nd runner-up, Chris Daughtry. I was hoping I'd spot Peter Krause or Zach Braff. But no---they just didn't feel like having a mocha espresso bean blend at the Coffee Bean and Tea Leaf that day. I'm guessing they don't shop at Macy's either.

The Death and Life of Great Canadian Jane Jacobs

Today we lost one of the few idols in my life---Jane Jacobs. Urban planning genious. Author of my all time favourite piece of non-fiction, The Death and Life of Great American Cities. A New Yorker who transplanted herself in Toronto's Annex District in 1969, she was a trailblazer against the bulldozer. A lover of neighbourhoods in their most genuine, organic form. A staunch opponent of thoughtless development rooted in the almighty buck. And perhaps most important of all, an idealist with great faith in the strength of individuals and their ability to collectively make a difference in the world around them.

She was a rebel with a cause and I'm glad she graced our planet.

Bye neighbour.

Happy birthday, Granny.

This lovely photo is of my Granny. She celebrated her 80th birthday on April 6, 2006.

She's a special woman and in many ways, the "anti-granny". Not a knitter or a baker or a bridge player. Instead, she's a nature enthusiast, an artist, a voracious reader, a natural athlete who still walks at very brisk pace, and intelligent like you wouldn't believe.

I love this picture. It somehow seems so contemporary. It exudes confidence and even has a strangely feminist quality about it. Taking charge behind the wheel, not giving a shit about her hair. I just love it.

Happy birthday, Granny. You're a one-of-a-kind.

She's back!

Good news. I've risen from my month-long blog slumber and this means I have lots to share.

I left you all with a rather dreary entry that made some of you wonder if perhaps I'd lost my marbles. More good news. I'm ok.

I had one small victory on the baby-making front this past few weeks. I ovulated. For all I know, this is the first time I've ovulated in several months or even years. The RBU was keeping a close watch on my cycles and I ended up with 2 mature follicles. Don gave me an HCG shot on the day they were ripe for release and we crossed our fingers. I had every reason to be optimistic. Hell, I even had the potential for two eggs, which could have meant twins! My temp remained elevated for 14 days after ovulation and this was a good sign. I went in for my blood test yesterday and was bummed to discover that it was negative. So, now I wait impatiently for Aunt Flo and begin psyching myself for another round of reproductive Russian roulette.

This next round will be our most aggressive yet. In addition to the Clomid and Metformin, I'll be doing self-injectables from Day 3 until I ovulate. I'm also taking part in a PCOS research study that uses a new drug. AND, we're going to do artificial insemination on top of all this.

Everyone is asking why I want to throw in the towel after this next round and the answer is pretty simple. It's an emotional roller coaster that's taking its toll on me. Bottom line, we want a child in our lives. We're not getting any younger and you have to ask yourself, "When is enough enough?" So we're meeting with the social worker (recommended to us by a friend) on Monday. She will be the woman that administers our homestudy for adoption. This alone can take up to 6 months.

I just hope the stars align in the next year and we're well on our way to becoming parents.

So, my thyroidectomy has been scheduled for June 15th. The whole thing is being removed and I'll be on thyroid medication for the rest of my life. I'm really not that nervous about it.

The really, truly good news in my life is that I got hired by the United Way of Greater Toronto yesterday. Permanent, full-time with great benefits. It's a marketing manager position. I start on April 19th and I can't wait.

*The above photo is my Granny and Mom. Both of them had babies. Why can't I?

Hey Eeyore, wanna do lunch? I hear misery loves company.

Sorry for the longer than usual break between entries. Life has been a touch chaotic of late and finding time for peaceful reflection has been difficult. The fact that I've had a twitching eye for the past 10 days is a bit of a wake-up call.

Ever get the feeling that your head is too crammed with stuff to actually do anything satisfying or productive with yourself? That’s how I’ve been feeling lately. Not a good feeling. Contemplating another move, battling infertility, biopsies for thyroid cancer, having a Mom in the throes of chemo, quitting a job, starting a new job, being told you’re at high risk for type 2 diabetes, undergoing the adoption process, learning how to sew, joining Weight Watchers… well, you can see why I’m swimming in circles.

The logical thing to do is erase a few of these things off the list and allow myself to focus on just a couple. So, here’s what I’ve arrived at:

1. Stop worrying about the move. Stay away from MLS, cease the daily prospect listings from our agent for the time being and limit the condo selling efforts to a poster in our lobby.
   
2. Join Weight Watchers again starting this Saturday. Self-esteem and motivation is at an all-time low and it’s due largely to the weight gain sitch.
   
3. Focus on having a good interview with the United Way on April 3rd.
   
4. Know that thyroid surgery won’t likely happen until the summer anyway
   
5. Have one last consult with the RBU at Mt.Sinai before we start the adoption process (which I will discuss in greater detail at a later date)
   
6. Find the joy in doing 3 hours of sewing every Saturday morning for the next 6 weeks
   
   I think this is relatively sane and reasonable. We shall see.

For fast acting relief, try slowing down

What a great little saying, coined by the wry Lily Tomlin. Duly noted, Lily.

I have only one reason to post today. The weather was glorious! Mother nature's magical elixir of tweeting birds, thawing grass and intoxicatingly fresh air was truly heaven sent. Don and I went for a long afternoon walk in my numero uno neighbourhood of choice to buy a house. Roncesvalles Village. We stopped in at Daddy-O's Milk Bar and got a tasty espresso milk shake titled "Little Green Men from Mars" to go. Up and down the blocks we went. Even the names of the streets put a smile on my face. Constance Ave. Garden Ave. And our favourite--Marmaduke Ave.

Gee, have I bothered to announce that Don and I are selling our condo? Well, we are and we're trying to do it privately, so we can bank as much moola as possible to put towards a house.

Today when we got home, I decided to do something a little left of centre in the world of househunting. I drafted a letter that I plan to put in the mailboxes of about 50 homes in the Roncy area. The plan is to buy some nice stationery and role it up like a diploma with some pretty ribbon and cross our fingers that the yocals can give us the inside scoop. Here's how the little note reads:

March 18, 2006

Hello,

Our names are Don and Sarah Banks and we’re interested in buying a home in the Roncesvalles Village/Parkdale/High Park area.

We currently live in a condo at Bloor and High Park but have our hearts set on finding a home in your area. The market, as we’re sure you know already, is very competitive and that is why we’re trying to “think outside the box” on how to find a home we can see ourselves living in.

If you or anyone you know is thinking of selling their home in the near future, we’d greatly appreciate you passing along our contact info.

Ideally, we are seeking the following:

· 3 bedrooms
· 2 bathrooms
· older character
· plenty of sun
· parking space

We’re prepared to take on a home that needs a reasonable amount of work but we’re keen to find a house with “good bones.”

Depending on the condition of the house, we are looking at paying between $325 and $375K.

We’re fairly flexible on the possession date but would like to move in by late summer, early fall. We greatly appreciate whatever insight or tips you can give us.

Many thanks.

Don and Sarah Banks
Ph: 416-766-0512
don.sarah.banks@gmail.com

Sarah too?

Sarah too? was a phrase made popular by yours truly when I was about 2 years old. It would innocently fall from my lips whenever an adult was doing something that I *too* wanted to participate in. Be it wrapping Xmas presents or a trip to the beer store, I was sure to chime in.

Ironic, that as a full grown adult, I now say this to myself silently whenever I see a woman who has conceived with the greatest of ease.

*Above is a shot of my Mom and Dad holding me up in Peterborough. I'm about 10 months old.
According to Don, I look like a little dolly. I won't argue with him.

Cease and de-cyst!

You can imagine my disbelief when I was told that both of my ovaries were "quiet" today. To my ignorant ear, quiet was just another way of saying useless, but I soon learned that quiet was a good thing. Quiet means they're cyst-free! And essentially ripe for follicle growth!

This cycle, they're upping the Clomid to 150mgs, day 3-7, I'll have the 1500mgs of Metformin and I'll be giving myself a gonadtrophin hormone shot when the egg release time is right.

This past week or so, I felt like I was living in a cave. Learning of my quiet egg makers has made me want to poke my nose out and get some fresh air.

The Gathering

I feel like I have a lot to talk about but I'm stupefyingly tired for some reason, so I make no guarantees on the validity or entertainment value of my virtual spew.

Last night I had a memorable get-together with old friends (you know who you are). Lots of wine and nostalgia and some priceless moments of nose-snorting hilarity. And yet for all its gaeity, I also caught myself very aware of the more serious elements of the gathering. I wouldn't call it sentimentality. It was more of a tender reminder of how short life is, how life has a way of becoming more complicated as we age and how these casual pow-wows are perhaps more important than we realize.

After 5 short hours of heavenly conversation and heartwarming self-reflection, I made my way to the subway. I consciously relished my reverie in -12 temperatures. "This slice of my life," I thought to myself, "has made me somehow better. Forever."

He likes playing doctor

That is the salacious tagline on the cover of this month's Details magazine. The man they're referring to is the tantalizing Patrick Dempsey---perhaps most famous for Can't Buy Me Love, but I remember him for his performance as the wayward brother in Coupe de Ville, a wonderful sleeper of a movie that also stars Alan Arkin and Daniel Stern.

But I won't bore you with that. I really just wanted say how HOT I thought this photo spread was. You can see it for yourself. It's pretty amazing, this 11th hour fame in his late thirties. I thought for sure he was destined for the dusty archives of Teen Beat magazine.

So, I guess I haven't been "bringing up baby" much lately. I suppose it's because we're in that insufferably long period that occurs post-unsuccessful ovulation and pre-Cycle Day 1, when the fun begins all over again.

I took my Day 40 temperature today, examined my *so not* textbook example of an ovulation chart and decided to retire the tongue wand to my bedside table drawer. And besides, they only give you 40 days to chart. That's as "abnormal" as they let your cycle get.

I've decided I can't do this reproductive crapshoot much longer. 3 more cycles and then we move onto adoption. Thankfully, Don is cool with this. Three more cycles translates to about 5 more months which brings us to late July. So if my baby bottle is half full, it's possible with could have a little one by next summer. Biological or otherwise---we could very well have a small creature with more demands than our cat.

TV, why do I love you so?

Damn you TV!! You've done it again. Lured me in with American Idol.

Only this time it's different. There's a certifiably talented, seemingly bright, definitely attractive contestant that has me bewitched and bewildered with his old school ways.

Taylor Hicks is his name and blue-eyed soul is his game. He's a 29-year old white boy from Alabama with premature grey hair and a voice that harkens back to the days of Sam Cooke, Otis Redding and Ray Charles. I can't help but compare him to Michael McDonald, who I LOVE.

So, I have no choice. I *must* tune in to see what this mysterious, alluring anomaly will surprise me with next.

While we're on the subject of TV, is it odd that I depend on Breakfast Television on CityTV every morning? Kevin Frankish and friends have this comfy old sweater feel that I've grown to love. Frank the Weather Boy is particularly cute in that "let's go have a beer and talk trash about our co-workers" kind of way. At least that's the sense I get about him.

Enough talking. Trash.

*Above pic is of the captivating Taylor Hicks. The only reason I'll be watching Idol this season.
"I get my kicks on cute Taylor Hicks." (I made that up myself).

Priddy fleurs

My boy came home with a pot of tulips for me today.

I gave him a card with 2 bunnies on it. Inside, it said "Some bunny loves you."

I love how love can make even the most serious, sensible, cynical person all silly and gooey.