A Story to Tell

Leave a comment August 26, 2014 drworobec

I’ve discovered a new interest. Furniture. Yes, you read that right.

These days, I am finding my love for furniture that I never knew existed. But I’m not talking about brand new showroom furniture; quite the opposite, actually. I’m talking about antique-shop treasures, garage-sale steals, and by-the-curb finds. Pieces with character, with personality, with a story to tell.

As tastes in furnishings and fashions go, mine tend to run on the plain play-it-safe side of things. You could say that I’m an IKEA regular. But over the years, I’ve begun to scour home decor magazines and read blogs about interior design. I’ve started hearing about chalk paint and upcycling, shabby chic and repurposing, gel stain and van Gogh paint. Terms like distressing, built-ins, and Napoleonic Blue have become part of my vocabulary. My interest has been piqued.

I’m still very much a newbie, but now I have a couple of pieces in my home that most certainly have memories already attached.

My kitchen table and chairs.

I found these at a garage sale, and since we don’t have access to a truck, my husband and our neighbour actually walked this set the two blocks home. They went from looking like this:

To this:

It’s amazing what a new stain colour and paint can do.

But I most definitely did not complete this transformation myself. Instead, I hired a wonderful painter who specializes in custom-painted furniture. But regardless, my creative spark was ignited and I began to see the possibilities.

My son’s dresser.

We were recently given a beautiful dresser from my husband’s Aunt who passed away. With sentimental value built right in, my five-year-old and I completed a great weekend project.

Before.

After.

Now I’ve got my eye on Tropical Cocktail for our laundry cart. Stay tuned.

#WeAreBurlington

Leave a comment August 12, 2014 drworobec

Burlington, I’m talking to you. Geneva Park Drive, I’m talking to you. Guelph Line, Cardiff Crescent, Fairview Street, I’m talking to you. Regal Road, I’m especially talking to you. I’m telling you there’s hope.

Remember last Summer, when Calgary was hit by a hundred-year flood that devastated the city? Remember when the rains poured in, the rivers raged, and the devastation grew? Remember how the community pulled together, neighbours rallied, government stepped up, and people helped? I do. I remember, because some of my best friends were hit the very hardest:

Their basement completely submerged? Yep.

Yard underwater, unsafe, and unusable? Yep.

Contents destroyed, financial disarray, memories lost? Yep.

Sludge and sewage and nastiness everywhere? Yep, yep, and yep.

They’ve been there. Calgary and many other Southern Alberta communities were right where you are now, only a year ago. And they made it. They rallied, they worked, they fought, they cried. And here they are, on the other side:

And you will be too.

We are here for you.

#WeAreBurlington.

***For those not aware of the Burlington, Ontario, flood that occurred on Monday, August 4th/2014,
you can read more information here, here, and here.
You can donate HERE.***

The Search for Skinny

Leave a comment July 22, 2014 drworobec

This post makes me sad. It makes me sad for all of the hours spent, the energy wasted, and the food-related guilt and shame in my quest for “skinny.” Unfortunately, I don’t think I’m unique in this quest, and that’s what makes me even more upset.

I’m sad for the 8-year-olds who use the word “diet”. I’m sad for the teenage girls who think they’re fat. I’m sad for the 20-somethings who eat only grapes and rice crackers. I’m sad for the moms who hate their bodies. I’m sad, because I’ve been there. That used to be me.

In fact, I came across an old competitive running journal of mine, which I wrote in my early 20s, and that’s what prompted this post. Aside from writing down my daily mileage (which, at the time, was upwards of an obsessive I-must-run 100kms/week) I also recorded how “fat” I felt. I was 135lbs, wore a size 6, and most of my journal entries centered around varying degrees of “feeling fat”. Because skinny runners run faster, right? Skinny girls are pretty, right? Skinny is perfect, right?

I’ve always struggled with body image, but seeing this journal years later made me see how far I’ve come. Don’t get me wrong, I still have bad moments, bad days, bad thoughts, and sometimes the body image beast still rages; but the tide has shifted. My relationship with food has changed (“Food for Thought”), which is my biggest personal victory. I no longer look at numbers on the scale and on clothing tags. Ironically, as my obsession with weight and calorie-counts have decreased, those numbers haven’t changed much almost 15 years and two kids later. I now look at numbers in my training journal: I can deadlift 225lbs. I can climb a rope. I can do 10 pullups in a row and I can do “real” pushups from my toes. But more importantly, I look at my daughter. I can see her looking at me, and she’s learning how to define beauty and self-acceptance.

I hope that these very personal, very honest revelations don’t ring true with you, my female readers. But I suspect that they will for many. That’s why I wrote this. That’s why I pushed past my should-I-shouldn’t-I doubts and feelings of uncomfortable vulnerability into complete openness and soul-baring confessions. I hope that you can find a way to look at your body as strong instead of fat, as capable instead of weak, as beautiful instead of ugly. Don’t seek skinny, seek acceptance. And most of all, certainly most of all, I hope you can teach your daughters to do the same.

accept yourself