16...no wait, 33 and pregnant...

So in case many of you haven't noticed I have been suspiciously absent. Now that I have finally posted our big announcement on facebook, I suppose I should fill the rest of you in. We are expecting baby number three, and I have spent all of August and now September sicker than I have ever been or even thought was possible. Considering that this was a big fat ol' whoops....nature could be just a little bit nicer to me. Unless this is my own personal punishment for not using birth control. Either way, I will confess that this is AWFUL.
Although I am just entering my second trimester, I thought that I would share with you what I have learned so far about having baby number three. For those of you who are knee deep in three children, I do not need any insight into what is to come after baby arrives. The images that my brain have already put together, is quite simply enough....
The difference between my first pregnancy (an oops) and the second (also and oops) and third, (oops I did it again) is that you are smart enough to be terrified of the unknown. Childbirth is a complete mystery and you have the naivety to go through your pregnancy having no idea what to expect.
Baby two, you remember it, but are confident as a mother and your "woman power" allows you to overcome the fears, because although it hurts, you know you''ll get through it, and that it's worth it. Although you have no idea what is about to happen to your entire life when you bring that newborn home to a toddler. Up until now, you were confidant that you could handle a new baby, because you were rocking the toddler hood and had it all covered. You were super mom. Until that first week at home when your toddler is shitting on the floor, and melting down while you're trying to breast feed an over tired baby, because they kept you up all night crying and all you can do is sob because you feel like you have just destroyed your life, and haven't eaten or showered in three days because every time you try, either the baby is crying or your toddler is shoving something up their nose to get attention that they feel they're missing because you decided that you "should have another baby". Tell me I'm off base on this one?
Baby number three, I have TOO much information. NO part of me wants to push this thing out. I know what's coming regarding birthing, breast feeding, diapers, no sleep, and the general raising of another person. Can't pull the wool over my eyes. There is absolutely no possible way to convince my brain that it's going to be a breeze. I know too much.
I know that many of you know me are surprised by my admission of pregnancy. Especially when I have mentioned about a billion times that we were done. So believe me when I say that this came as a "shock" to me as well.  Well, I guess it was more of a "damn....", I'll admit. When you become a grown up, and have finished having your children, unless you are on the pill (makes me crazy...literally), or your husband has had a vasectomy (has to book off too much work because he works a labor job), the birth control options that are available, suck.  Frankly, when you have two small children, and work, and activities, and school....I suppose sex becomes much like it was as a teenager. You have to sneak around to do it. When you finally find an opportunity, neither one of you is going to sneak to "the drawer" to dig out anything. It has now become "mission impossible", and you have literally minutes to complete it.So you just hope for the best, pray your timing is right and wing it.When you're playing Russian Roulette, sometimes you lose. Ironically when I went to see my midwife she exclaimed in surprise, "I didn't think I'd ever see you in here again"! I replied "me neither". .....
One of her first questions was regarding birth control after baby. She inquired about the possibility of my hubby having a vasectomy. I'll tell you right now....he's having one. Either by a trained doctor, or by me while he's sleeping. Hell, I  might even give myself a hysterectomy with a coat hanger, either way, one of us is going to be sterile after this little adventure!
Now I know that it sounds like I'm dreading this entire process. I'm not....entirely. I will confess that I am struggling with the "excitement" factor simply because I DO NOT want to give birth again. That shit hurts, it's scary, and I have already blown out my lady parts twice before. I'm over it. Very, very over it. Not to mention the lovely aftermath that happens to your body in the weeks and months afterwards. I really have no urge to have leaky breasts, or to have to wear a "diaper pad" for weeks afterwards, while sleep deprived and weepy. Again I point out....TOO much information. 
Now for all you first time moms out there, please don't let me deter you from what is a lovely and fulfilling, amazing time in our lives. For all you second and third, and more mommies....laugh out loud. I know that as the pending arrival draws near, I will be excited about meeting this little person we have created. Mostly because I will be so damn done being pregnant that I'll no longer care about the pain, I'll probably debate ripping it out myself.  Let's be honest, this isn't my first trip around the block. 
But in all honesty, I get a little excited when I think about pulling out my babes sleepers, and newborn clothes. The thought of breast feeding makes my mommy heart scream with glee, and that newborn baby smell and cry makes my heart melt. Those first weeks at home are some of my favorite moments. With this baby, my hubby will be able to be at home for those first few precious weeks, when in the past he always had to go back to work just days after they were born. Selfishly I am thrilled to be able to send the kids off to school and get to cuddle with our newest addition and the man I am madly in love with. After all, this baby wasn't conceived in a Pinto, behind Taco Bell, with some guy I met at the bar. It was our gift of perseverance, and commitment to our marriage. By God's grace, he felt that we were worthy of another miracle. For that I am grateful. I do not care if this baby is a boy or a girl, the wait will be worth the most amazing surprise that we are granted in life. Now please don't get me wrong, I totally support those who wish to find out. We wanted a girl SO badly with Miss C, there was no way I could wait! Finding out with her was just as incredible as not finding out with Big R. Both experiences were amazing, and I wouldn't change it either way. But for me, at this point in my life, I want the drama. I'll admit it. This is the last kick at the can for me...seriously...for real this time....so I want it to be as dramatic as possible. I'm all for the families that find out the sex of the baby, get the 3D ultrasound, name it and share it all on FB. But I guess at this point in my life, I feel like the rest of my pregnancy would be like watching paint dry. Considering that I hate surprises, you'd think I'd want to know, but I KNOW it's a baby, I'm not going to birth a giraffe, so whatever it is, is just icing on the cake for me. I want our friends and family to be able to share in those first few minutes of amazing grace when we present this person to the world. I want them to be surprised as much as we will be. And besides, I have one of each already. I know it has to be one or the other?  I don't care if it's bald or has hair, blue eyes or brown, or if it gets both of our ugliest features. The vanity of childbearing has been lost on me, as the only thing I pray for is health and wellness for this child. I pray for a healthy baby with all it's fingers and toes, working healthy organs and free of illness. I pray that I will be able to use my mommy life lessons to be a calm and relaxed mommy to both baby and my other two. The greatest gift that I have been given in this life is to be a mother. I hope that I never lose my ability to laugh at the terror and struggles that come with it, because as I have said it before, at the end of this life, I will not care how much money we had or the things that we have bought. I will remember the feeling of being a mother, and watching my most precious gifts go into the world and teach the lessons that we have taught them. So as I await the pending arrival of this person, I will share my journey with you. I'm warning you now, this could get ugly, but I promise in the end it will be all worth it. 

Someday you will call a song to the wind, 
      and the wind will carry your song away.
Someday I will stand on this porch
      and watch your arms waving to me
      until I no longer see you.
Someday you will look at this house and
      wonder how something that feels so big
      can look so small.

Someday you will feel a small weight against

      your strong back.

Someday I will watch you brushing your 

      your child's hair.

Someday, a long time from now, your own

      hair will glow silver in the sun.

And when that day comes love, 

      you will remember me.

                          -Someday, by Alison Mcghee

Birthday's Blow....

So today's my 33rd birthday. Ugh, I would love to say that I am happy about this fact, but I will admit that my birthday has always been a source of sadness for me. This year is no exception. There have been years past that I have gotten through it with out tears, but the majority of them, I have cried. Isn't that the stupidist thing you've ever heard? I cry because it's my birthday? Stupid.  
Even as a small child, my grandmother said, as early as she can remember, I have cried. What child cries at the prospect of presents and a birthday party? Freak.  Maybe that's why I go so overboard for my kids birthdays.  Hmmm, maybe I should mention this to my therapist. 
Many years past, my bestie and my cousin threw me an amazing surprise party. In hindsight, it shows how much they loved me and wanted my day to be special. I have so much love for them, I'm embarrassed to even admit what an asshole I was. Unfortunately, the culmination of events leading up to the the party, was a perfect storm for me, emotionally.  Firstly - I hate surprises at the best of times. It makes me feel like people have been scheming behind my back. Again - Therapist? Secondly - the "love of my life" at the time had broken up with me and was dating someone else. Thirdly - I proceeded to get totally drunk at dinner before the party. Lastly -  I had a MASSIVE temper tantrum and threw my shoes......I'm horribly humiliated that I even just wrote that down for you to read.  Needless to say, this topic is still mentioned every birthday. As it should be. What a rotten thing to do to people who love you. No one has ever thrown me a surprise party since.....
As a child August 7 was always a reminder that it was only 4 weeks until school started, and I would spend those last weeks leading up to September with trepidation and anxiety of what the first few days of school would hold. My birthday always meant uncontrolled change for me as well. It meant the years were passing much faster than I had anticipated. I hate change. Are you starting to see a pattern here? Can you imagine what a mess I was as a child? Ugh, all over a birthday? But I suppose in life, each one of us has something that we keep tucked away from others. Something that makes us different, or a little eccentric. I suppose it's the parts of us that create who we are as individuals. even if it makes us weird to the outside world. 
This year however, I cried not only because it was my birthday, but because this year marks 10 years since I lost my Gran. It was 10 years ago today that I hugged her for the last time. 
I lived 2 hours away from my home town. My dad and grandparents had come to spend the day. I was in a horrible relationship. We were too young, and awful together. Gran hated him. 
She and I spent the day together, shopping and picking up canning supplies for the fruit trees in my back yard. This was the first time I would ever make jam by myself, without her. So it was a pretty big deal for her to buy me everything I needed. We went out for dinner, and it was getting late by the time my family was getting ready to go. It was extremely hard to say goodbye, and have to stay in a town I hated, with a man that I no longer wanted to be with.  I wanted to pack my bags and jump in the van with them, and go home. As we said good bye, Gran stood there, arms wrapped around my waist, head on my chest and my chin placed on top of her head. She teared up and wouldn't let go. Neither would I. No words were exchanged. She pulled back and looked into my eyes, holding back tears. We didn't have to say anything. One more lingering hug, and she headed out my door. I sobbed as I waved goodbye. As I closed the door, I said the words out loud "I don't think I'm ever going to see her again". I was right. It was one week later that I received the call that she had a massive heart attack, and didn't survive. It was one week later that my entire world as I had always known it, would come to a shattering halt. It has changed me forever. 
We all have someone in our life that moulds us into who we become, and change us forever when they leave. Whether it's a parent, a sibling, and grandparent, a friend, aunt uncle....the list goes on. We are all connected to someone that knows you, and loves you no matter what an asshole you can be. For me, this was Gran. After she passed, I had SO many people tell me how much she loved me. I was perplexed at this outpouring of affection from people. I was perplexed because I found myself  saying "ya, I know?"  It took me many years to put the reasoning for this together. People where telling me, because they thought I didn't know. I began to realize that people always say "I wish I had told them, or I wish I had said".  To this day, I have the serenity of knowing with all my soul, that there was nothing left unsaid. We all knew how much we loved each other. My family is like that. We have always said everything that we feel, because if anything ever happens......
So on a day when most people are thrilled to celebrate, and be happy. I am going to spend the day with my kids and clean my house. My husband is away working, so there will be no birthday dinner, cake or presents. I'm o.k. with that. I have everything I need right here in my home, and I want for nothing else. I will probably cry for most of the day, so don't be surprised by that. I will most likely pick up fast food for dinner, have a nap, and let my kids watch too much tv. Big R was pretty disappointed that there would be no cake. So I guess to make him happy, I'll  pick something up. I mean really, it's a shame to let the little ones down.... 
So as I settle into one more year, I have hopes for the future. If I was to make a wish today, it would be for my health. I would wish that my hubby and I could sneak away for a little vacation, just the two of us. I am so thankful for him. He is my greatest wish come true. I can say that with all my heart and soul. If you had asked me when I was a little girl, what I hoped my life would look like - it would be this. It has been a really hard road to get here, but I am so grateful for what we have. It might not be much to some, but to me, it's everything. That is the greatest gift of all.

Heart to Heart

As I approach my 33rd birthday, I have made a very difficult decision. This decision wasn't easy, nor was it joyful. It was a quiet realization that surfaced after I had some serious testing done. I am embarrassed to admit that I have let my body down. I have a family history of cholesterol and heart problems. My gran died unexpectedly, nearly 10 years ago from a massive heart attack. My dad has cholesterol so high that at times they can't even register his triglycerides. He has now been diagnosed with diabetes. This had been a very hard pill to swallow. My cholesterol is out of control. My good cholesterol is nearly void and my glucose is high. This does not fair well for me. This has been a massive eye opener. This is my opportunity to change...this is part of my journey.

I think that so often we get caught up in the vanity of our weight, instead of our health. It is quite simply, easy to ignore. We don't physically see the damage we are doing on the inside, since all you can see is the outside.  It can be easy to ignore. I am scared for the long lasting effects that this may have on my children. Just a couple of weeks ago, a young mom at our school lost her fight to cancer. Although I didn't know her personally, I was profoundly affected by her death. Her children are so young. It truly breaks my heart deeply. It scared me. It brought to the surface, the devastation and loss of my gran. That depth of loss changes you forever. I was angry at her for not taking the medication for her heart that the doctor prescribed. I still needed her...I still do.

I made a decision. No more excuses. No more lying to myself. No more taking my youth for granted. No more hiding. No more failing. No more bullshit.....

I want to live. I don't mean live, as in physically breathe. I mean LIVE! Live with passion, joy, and confidence. I have wasted so much of this life hiding. I won't run in the park with my kids because of how winded I get. I won't take them to the pool because I won't wear a bathing suit. I dream of going to Mexico with my husband, but am too embarrassed of my weight to go. What would I even wear? I'd have to go to the beach....you can't wear sweaters in Mexico. Most importantly though, I have allowed my children to eat foods that I have NEVER allowed before. Simply to feed my own addiction. That has made me the saddest of all. 

So a couple of weeks ago, as I was receiving my test results, I also had a good friend of mine, Crystal from Level 6 Images, take some very unflattering photo's of me. I wanted them real, unedited and raw. I needed to see myself in a "Before" situation. I needed to see the truth. I also took my measurements and logged my  weight. Seeing that number on the scale was the hardest part of all. So after some tears and a big pity party.....and yes Ice Cream was invited, I owned myself. All of it. And I owe it to her to make a change.

This is my journey. I have struggled with the decision to post the pics. I'm not ready yet. It's still too raw for me. Besides, right now it's not a before picture, it's just a bad picture of a fat girl. I have owned it for me, and when the time is right, I'll release her into the world and set her free. She will then be my "before" picture.

In the last couple of weeks, I have had to own the word no. I am a pleaser, and I struggle with letting people down. What I realize now, is that in doing so, I have let myself, my husband and my children down. Why am I rearranging my life for my clients, and not myself? This had to come to an abrupt halt. My health and mental wellness depends on it. This was a topic that my husband and I were butting heads over. Then all of a sudden, we had an "aha" moment. We finally came to terms with what the other one wanted and needed, and we finally made the connection that we were both missing. I can't even put into words what an amazing change this has created in our family. 

I myself have begun a journey of change. I have started to take responsibility for my health and finally found a way to silence the voice of sabotage. This time it is for my heart, and my future. 

I have signed up at the gym again. I forgot about how much I love to work out. Although Miss C screamed for 45 minutes the first day I went, I still went the next day. She is going to have to deal with it. I need that time for me. 

I have started being accountable to my Weight Watchers. Apparently it only works if you actually admit to what you are putting in your mouth. Go figure. For now, I can't commit to eating clean, but I can commit to eating healthy. My kids are still young and I need to be able to have ice cream occasionally, and enjoy a good burger. Weight Watchers allows me the freedom of choice. Once I am told I can't have something, you can be damn sure that I'll have 5 of them....

So today I began week 2. I am calling this, The Summer of Me. I am not going to feel guilty for not working so much. I am not going to beat myself up for turning down clients. I am not going to try to accommodate everyone else's schedule. I am going to take care of ME for a while, and everyone is just going to have to accept it. My kids included. Because in order for me to be here in the future, I have to be here in the present. 

"Man cannot discover new oceans unless he has the courage to lose sight of the shore.”  Andre Gide

Fresh Start

Well I did it! I have signed up to be a vendor at my first vintage market.  Eeeek! I must admit that I am slightly more than terrified. There is a fairly good chance that I may be setting myself up for a massive failure. That scares me immensely. After all, failure seems to be my favorite place to hang out. I know that people say to "think" positive" and "send it out to the universe", but frankly I am sick and tired of having to brush myself off and start over again. Some days I feel like our family is in a game of chutes and ladders....and we seem to often get the short ladder and the long chute. So honestly taking a risk on myself is frightening and intimidating. But I guess in the long run, who isn't a little afraid of trusting themselves, and putting all your faith in your own possibility of success? 
Thankfully, I have the most amazing friend who is my inspiration and my fellow junker. I never in a million years would have thought that I should follow my passion if it wasn't for her own success with her blog and business. It is so refreshing to have someone to work beside and not be in competition. Her brilliant ideas inspire me and motivate me to aspire to great things. For this I am beyond grateful for the support and guidance and heartfelt friendship she has offered me. I am beginning to believe that I might be able to do this. Fear aside, I spent the day with Elisa, creating. Probably my favorite thing to do right now. I love the honesty of paint and wood. It is a blank canvas, and it makes me happy. Elisa from home sweet nest will be beside my booth at the show for the Clayburn Village Heritage Day, and we are trying to create flow between our two booths, and I am SO thankful for her artistic input. Thanks to my friend Jen and her shabby chic cottage theme that we are in the process of creating in her home, I am addicted to beach inspired decor! I am so very in love with it, I can't stop thinking about it! So today I let the beach flow through me. I am pretty excited about what we made. 

I was so happy to have Miss Sammy to help me take this picture....she was as equally thrilled.  

So there it is!  A sneak peek at some of the items that will be featured in my booth at the Clayburn Village Heritage Day, from 11am-5pm on Sunday - July 15. 
I am hoping to create a new blog for my furniture and junk. Stay turned, and I will keep you posted as I launch forward on this crazy journey of acceptance and faith, and hopefully overcoming failures and fear. A new page is turning for me, and I am so grateful that you have chosen to join me while I strive for a fresh start, and a brand new adventure! 

Yard Sale Hangover...

Whew! The Prettiest Yard Sale Ever, is finally complete and boy am I pooped! Although I called it a day, a bit earlier than everyone else, I feel that it was successful in it's own right. My pocket isn't quite as heavy as I was hoping that it would be, but I did unload some rather large items that I am thrilled to not bring back into my house! There is something VERY freeing to eliminate the clutter that has been filling my house slowly over the last few years.  However, I did learn a valuable lesson today....if your goal is to make money, DO NOT bring your husband to help you sell.  As a customer was happily walking to his car, arms full of our T.V, my hubby was grinning like a school boy. When asked what he sold it for, he replied..."Oh, I gave it away! I just wanted that crap gone". He even asked if he wanted him to carry it to the guys car. But I guess the happy ending is that the gentleman was thrilled, and hubby was just as happy to see it go. 
Happily, the girls that I worked with today were super successful, and the items that they worked hard on creating, were more beautiful in person than I even imagined! The rain held off, and I was able to chat with some pretty fantastic ladies. I came home with most of my baby items, but because they are already priced and organized, the kids swap should be a huge success. 
It was a great chance to see how I can market myself better for next time, and where we should be advertising. Although it didn't sell, I had some heart warming compliments on my crib. Which made me happy, because I worked my butt off on painting and distressing it. It turns out that a crib is no small undertaking! A great lesson for next time.  
So, the lesson today is that even though it's a lot of work, sometimes a yard sale can be rewarding. Sometimes the gain isn't financial, but emotional. It was time to cleanse and renew, and today was a great start! I just signed myself up for a Heritage Fair in town, and must admit that I am looking forward to the opportunity to test my foot in the water and see what I can accomplish. My crib was a great experiment, and will be coming along with me to the market, much to my hubby's excitement!  He just loves moving things....hahaha.  
I will keep you posted on my journey of creation over the next few weeks, as I set my sites for the market. I hope your day was just as inspiring and joyful! 

Snips & Snails.....

Some of my favorite conversations with my children take place while we are in the car. I am usually listening to the newest song my daughter has invented in her brain, or the biggest adventure of the day through the eyes of my six year old son. I will confess that I often tune them out, while trying to listen to the radio and spend a lot of time giving the odd "Hmmm, interesting", and "wow, that sounds great", and "Mmmm hmmm, I bet". However this conversation grabbed my attention, and I thought it was a perfect moment to see life through my 4 year old's eyes, and possibly teach a lesson.....or have what's left of my self esteem kicked in the crotch. You know, whatever, either one sounds great.
Miss C is a lover of all bugs. Especially snails. She collects them, names them, feeds them, takes them for wagon rides. In general, is a big fan. So from the back seat when I start to hear "snail chatter" I hummed and hawed along with her little notations about her pets.
"Mommy, I collected all my snails and lined them up. I had fat ones and skinny ones. I put all the skinny ones together so they could visit, because they are the mommy's. Mommy's like to visit."
Now she has caught my attention. The skinny ones are mommy's? Hmmm. So I calmly ask, "Oh, how do you know the skinny ones are mommy's"? 
She replies "because all mommy's are skinny".
So here's my chance. I figure, why not see what she thinks. 
"Oh....hmmm, is your mommy skinny?"  I ask cautiously. There proceeds to be a very long pause from the back seat. Ah crap. She has to think about it? This is not going to end well for me. Quietly, she literally says "ummm.....no mommy. I don't think that you're very skinny...I think you're a bit big mommy."
Oh awesome. My four year old thinks I'm a fat ass. So quick thinking on my part, I quickly try to throw a life lesson in there. 
"Do you think that mommy's come in all different shapes and sizes, just like your snails?"  To which she says,
"Oh yes mommy. There are skinny snails, medium snails and then there are very big ones like you mommy"! 
I honestly laughed for a split second, which was quickly replaced by the feeling of wanting to crawl under a rock. Go ahead, rob me of what's left of my flailing self esteem and hit me over the head with it. Typically, I would like to try to find the happiness in any situation. This time however, I am going to admit defeat. I'm going to go outside and counsel all the "fat" snails and make sure that they don't feel judged and criticized by the skinny ones. Perhaps I'll bring some brownies, or maybe a bag of chips. It seems fitting. I think we might start a club. Maybe? 
The good news is, whether she thinks I'm a "very big mommy" or not, she still loves me through it all. I suppose there is just more of me to love. This of course is not the first time that my children have notified me of my weight. In a public rest room, my son loudly announced what a "big bum" I have. Nothing motivates a person to lose the weight like having your children inform you that you're fat. So the lesson of the day is that snails and mommy's come in different sizes. We don't fit into a specific mould. We can't always be on the outside what we dream to be, from the inside. We struggle. We have insecurities. We all carry the weight of our home on our shoulders at one time or another. 
So the next time I criticize myself in the mirror. Or get mad because "I look fat" in something. I will be reminded of our conversation.  I will remember that little ears are listening to my words and learning how to be a mommy herself one day. So big bums, or saggy tummy's....we must love our faults, if not for us, but for our children. After all, if she can love her snails, why can't I love myself? 

A Vintage-y Day

Today I helped out my good friend Elisa, from www.homesweetnest.blogspot.ca run her booth at the Scout market here in Abbotsford. I was so honored to be asked! It was an amazingly beautiful day, here on the west coast, and I must admit that I was slightly overwhelmed by the women that poured through our booth all day long. Especially considering that it was a rare, but welcoming break in the rain that has plagued us in recent days. It was the most amazing experience to meet the incredible women that flowed through the doors today. And I was shocked to see how many of us share a love affair with furniture. It made me inspired and left me in awe at some of the art that people brought to decorate their booths. I was so happy to meet new faces, share in an abundance of stories, and see some familiar faces. Diana, of  vintagecovegirl.blogspot.ca  did an AMAZING job of her booth. Di is from my hometown, and I have yet to see in person, her beautiful pieces. She is highly talented, and her booth was so beautiful, I didn't want to disturb it! 

It was so much fun to put some faces to the names of the blogs that I myself have stumbled upon. Meeting Leanne from www.becauseithinkican.com  today was a joy! Great conversation with a fellow mommy. Let's face it, any chance we can find some sanctuary among friends, is a blessing! Besides the fact that she is super talented, she has some fun and unique ideas. I'm always up for some inspiration.

I picked up the cutest handmade girly items for Miss C at  www.crystalclearboutique.com Honestly, I could have bought one of everything she had! The girls from  www.etsy.com/shop/bookas were just awesome to talk to, and had some really incredible items. Then at one point, I made my way over to  kitcheningwithcarly.com and tried her macarons. I can honestly say, that I have never tried any macaron as good as what that girl puts out! I wish I had met her before Miss C's party! Hello....DELICIOUS!!! 

I fell completely in love with the girls from Red Wicker. www.facebook.com/pages/Red-Wicker/ Her items were really rustic and earthy, and I just LOVE that! 

I only had a few minutes to stop by raggygirlvintage.blogspot.ca, but since I had seen her booth last fall at another market, I have been in love with her style. I have a weakness for anything with font.

Although I didn't have time at this market to stop by and drool over whateverlolawantslolagets.ca  I must admit that I have a serious obsession with her jewelry! It is true vintage, recreated. Her style has my name all over it. I honestly can't get enough of her work. It makes me a little weak in the knees...

Today I felt in my element. I think as I have matured and (gasp) begun to age.....I have started to find myself shifting in my own shoes. Today, I didn't care about what I looked like, or what people really thought of me. I was able to socialize, laugh, joke around and be my loud, dorky self! The best part, was that when I left today, I felt completely, and entirely embraced by an incredible community of women. Let's be really honest here.....that is really tough to come by. Especially coming out of an industry that is geared towards criticism. The beauty industry is not glamorous. It is not kind. It is not forgiving. Today I saw something I haven't seen in  a very long time. Women, coming together to talk, laugh, embrace one another. They came out with their mothers, their children, their sisters and friends.....and more than a few husbands, to celebrate all things vintage-y, and junky. Items that people have discarded because they were no longer shiny and new. Things that have acquired dents, bangs and bruises, and more than enough tarnished silver! When you think about it, isn't that too often how we view the world? We so often over look people who maybe aren't wearing the most fashionable clothes, or trendy hair. We don't take the time to invest in people.  Who hasn't had their share of dents and bruises in life? What if we looked past a persons past? What if we appreciated the dents that we have all acquired? We all have them. That's what has made us all the amazing people we have become. 

So tonight, as I exhale with an humble sense of gratefulness, and an inspiration for my future, I wonder aloud....what makes you fulfilled? What about the imperfections in your life? Are they an overlooked source of happiness? 

This journey that I have set out on, just a few short months ago, has turned me down a path, I never thought I would find. Slowly but surely, I am embracing my authentic self. I am finding my kindness, my gratitude, my blessings, my honesty. But more importantly....my happiness. And that is something that does not have a price tag. It can not be bought at a store. Unless it's a thrift store....

A Mothers Wish

I stumbled upon this quote last week. The honesty of these words brought me to an abrupt halt. It brought to light for me all the times that I have passed over my children's words, too busy to stop and listen to the the unimportant story that they have to tell. Too often I have caught myself "checking out" of a conversation too quickly. It forced me to question myself. My answer from my heart said "no". That is the amazing power of words. They are honest, if you let them be. The can be the motivation for change. So today on this 6th Mothers Day for me, I have taken the time to pause and reflect.

From the moment that test says "positive", it is impossible to know the momentum or magnitude that your life will change forever. It changes "who" we are as women, and becomes "what" we do as mothers. We spend every moment focused on the lives and safety of these small people. And each day when we go to sleep, we worry about what the next stage will bring. We are trying to raise great members of society, who give back and change the world. We pray they are not ax wielding murderers or nut jobs that hurt children or animals. I know that we will forfeit sleep, food, showers, and almost anything else to ensure that our children are happy and taken care of. That is the true plight of a mother. 

Today I was happy to spend my time in the yard. Soaking up the sun-shine and planting our small garden. My hubby surprised me with a tent for our patio, so we can enjoy the yard a bit more this summer. The topping on the cake for me however was the hand made necklace that my little man made for me at school. I adore it. Even my hubby went all out, and gave me the book I have been dreaming of. Anyone who knows me, knows I have an adoration for Tori Spelling. Sometimes I watch her show and laugh my ass off at how similar we are. Well today I got my little hands on "celebraTORI." That's right! A party planning book! Could it be any more perfect? 

So on this Mother's Day, I hope that all you hard working, kind, generous, amazing....but tired mommies out there are counting your blessings, and loving the job you have been blessed with. Is it always sunshine and rainbows? Surely not. But of all the jobs, in all the world, I can't imagine a more important one. We are being given the chance to change the world by sharing conscious words, honest answers and love in our hearts. Tonight when you put your little ones...or big ones to bed, let them know that they are loved. The most amazing quote that I share with my children the most, is from a book.

You is kind. You is smart. You is important.” 

― Kathryn Stockett, The Help

Dr. Phil once said, that every night before he went to bed, he would tell his sons "of all the little boys, in all the world, how did I get so lucky to get you?" 

I do this regularly. I am always amazed by how my little man's face lights up. It reminds me again, the value that words have on our children. 

I try to count my blessings as often as possible. I am going to be more conscious of the words I say to my children, and the way I listen to them. That's the mommy I want to be. That's the legacy I hope to leave. I want my words to have value. I want my children's words to have value. So if nothing else changes, perhaps the kindness that we speak will linger with someone, and change their world. The words I shared with you today changed mine. I hope they impact you to do the same. I send a huge thank you to all you mommies out there. With out you, this world of ours would be a sad and lonely place. 

Well, a mother, a real mother is the most wonderful person in the world. She's the angel voice... that bids you good night, kisses your cheek, whispers "sleep tight"

-Wendy Darling, Peter Pan

Pink Poodle Party -Part Deux

Well, the party was a success! There are few things better in life, than a hot sunny day, shared with friends, and cake. It's day's like this, that make me realize how blessed I am by the women I share my life with. I am so grateful for the friendships I have made over the years. My girlfriend Tracy brought her amazing camera and documented the day for me.  How lucky am I? 

I wanted to find something to build the party around. This is the Dessert Menu. The French are known for their amazing pastry's and desserts, so I thought it was fitting to create the party around that, and of course it had to be pink!

I had a vision of a chalk board. I just love these old frames. You've probably seen 100 of them. They're always gold, and usually housing a hideous oil painting of flowers or fruit. A fresh coat of Annie Sloan's Old White, and some MDF board painted with chalkboard paint, did the trick. In total, it cost me around $10. My girlfriend Elisa actually stumbled upon the cardboard Eiffel tower, and I cut the poodle out of card stock with my Cricut. It was a replica of what I did on her invites.

 I happened to find the little white poodles at Micheals, and I picked up the sequins for the leashes at Fabricland. $10.50. I had made the Cake pop stands last year for her Garden party, and just re-used them. They are painted Styrafoam blocks with picket fences from Micheal, hot glued to the front. I think it cost me $6. I wanted the cupcakes to look like flowers.

 I made the banner from card stock, and again used my Cricut. The fabric on the table I picked up for a steal for $20. Since I am using it to recover a chair, I guess it's just re-junking! The Pom-Pom's hanging from the tent were from Martha Stewart's website. I used Dollar Store tissue. It totaled $4. Next time I would spend a bit more on quality. Cheap tissue tears really easily when you try to puff them up. 

 This was the cupcake stand I made. The chandelier was free. I paid $5.50 for spray paint and spent $18 on crystals from Micheals. This is going to be well used! The French Macaroons were my biggest challenge. I was hell bent to master them. We live in a high humidity location, and it was very tricky to keep them from cracking. However, after several batches, I must admit that I was pretty impressed at how great they turned out. Of course, anything tastes good with chocolate ganache and lemon butter cream in it!

Miss C was such a joy to watch open her gifts. She is such a grateful little girl, and is always so happy about the small things. This year, she was incredibly spoiled by our friends and family. Bubbles! We love our bubbles!

 Every little girl loves her Doughnuts! Her Auntie Leesh came through again with an amazing wooden set from Melissa and Doug. I just love the wooden toys! 

 What little lady doesn't need a Pink Poodle Pillow and matching Pajama's! What do you think she's wearing to bed tonight? Her little "boy friends" know her well! 

 She loves her girly toys! 

 A very happy girl. A very special day. A very thankful mommy. 
These moments are the threads that stitch together a wonderful life. When I look around at the friends and family that make our lives special,  I am truly grateful. I am thankful that my children are loved by so many. Love is the most amazing part of life. So as I turn the calendar on my little girl and realize, that all to quickly, she is becoming a little lady, I am happy knowing that we celebrated another fabulous birthday, and I pray for many more to come. Thank you so much to everyone who came out today to share her special day with us. You are all SO special to us, and for you we are grateful.

Pink Poodle Party- Part One

I am one of those people who tends to go a little over the top when it comes to my children's parties. I LOVE me a good party, and there are so few occasions to have an excuse to throw one.  Other than milestone birthdays, weddings, showers and graduation, when else do we really get to do it? Since having children, I have decided that this is one of those reasons to throw a party. Now I realize that this is more for me, than it is for them.  There is something really satisfying for me, in putting together a theme and creating an event around it.  I think I have an illness.... But honestly, more than anything, I really just want to have a great reason to get my friends and loved ones together, because with the craziness of life, more often than not, we will always schedule in a good party!

Quite a few months ago, I asked Miss C, what she wanted her birthday party theme to be.  In her 3 year old voice, she announced...."doggies".  Ummm? Doggies? What am I suppose to do with that? So I started putting my brain to work. I was on the computer, when I pink poodle appeared. I thought she was going to jump out of her skin. "That one! That doggy right there! I want that for my party".  And so the Pink Poodle Party Planning began. I myself, have always had a love affair with Paris. It is one of my "dream" travel places, and my mom has been, in recent years. So with my "google" in hand, I began to research. The food, the decor, the style, the color scheme.....and here we are, less than a week away and I am almost ready!

Now I am well aware that I probably look like a total nut job. I've had people exclaim with excitement, "Oh, you're daughters party...is it her sweet 16?" The look on peoples face when I say, "no...4", is priceless. 

Do I go overboard? Yes. Do I appear to be mentally unstable? Yes. Is it ridiculous for a child's birthday party? To some, I would say yes. To me, it is moments and memories I am making. When I was little, my mom was the most amazing party person ever. I always had the best birthdays. Those memories are some of my favorite. The birthday that always stands out the most, is when she didn't make a cake at all. She scooped out Vanilla Ice Cream onto a platter, covered one third in Caramel, one third in Chocolate, and one third in Marshmallow, then poured sprinkles all over.....and handed us each a spoon. To this day, it is my favorite birthday memory. And don't think for a second, that I'm not going to pull an all out, Vintage Ice Cream Social, in years to come. Oh hell ya I am! 

As I have gotten older, I have discovered that the creative side of me needs an outlet. Sometimes it's scrap booking, sometimes it's refinishing furniture or creating beauty from junk. Sometimes, it's an over the top birthday party for my children. I'm not trying to brag, or out do other mom's. I'm not searching for recognition, or applause. I am hoping that on that special (all be it, coordinated) day, that the people I love the most are there to eat, laugh and share in the joy of friendship and family. Because one day, when my little girl is all grown up, and she is planning a party for her child, I hope that she looks back with fondness and love and remembers..... "my mom knew how to throw one hell of a party".

Stay tuned for next week's part two!

Yummy Mummy Syndrome

As a mother of small children, I have become increasingly aware of the demand on us mommy's to fit the stereotype of "yummy mummy". Anyone who knows me, or follows my blog, is pretty aware, that I am surely not one of these women, although admittedly, I wish I was. The entire concept of "yummy mummy" is right up my alley. I always thought I would be the mom, who bounced back after childbirth, hair colored, make up done, dressed in my LuLu Lemon, strolling the streets with my saucy stroller and fashionable baby in tow.

Reality is a kick in the ass....

Not one of those things has ever happened to me....not even once, in the last 6 years, since I pushed out the small people that I grew.  Disappointing, isn't it?  I was determined to not "lose" myself. A struggle that I continue to battle. However, the image of "yummy mummy" still plagues me, and I have now switched my vision to "m.i.l.f"....because let's face it, by the time I actually get my shit together and lose this weight,  there's a pretty good chance that my son will be graduated from high school.

The "best" part of having a weight struggle, is having friends who do not. I love my friends. They are amazing women, who in their own rights have earned the body's that they have. They have worked out, and struggled to achieve the amazing physic that they are blessed with. Some of my friends on the other hand, are just born with bodies made of rubber bands, and have snapped back into shape faster than humanly possible. I will admit to disliking them slightly for this....I am mature enough to cop to my own jealousy. I will also admit, that I have a jealous hatred for all you ladies who come out of the hospital with flat stomachs. "Dislike". At least try to look a little shitty...would ya? 

Now, by no means am I crapping on the ladies who have amazing genetics, and work their asses off to achieve their optimum weight. I applaud you....with envy. I am just saying, that for those of us who struggle, it tends to be a reminder of our own failures. Now, that isn't true for everyone, but it is something I definitely admit to being my reality.  There are many a times when I spot a new mommy, carrying her infant in a bucket seat....looking amazing, and I curse you silently in my head.  I kind of hate you, just a little bit. But I guess if I'm honest....truly honest...I kind of hate me a little more than I hate you. I suppose that my 6 and 4 year old, no longer are considered "baby weight". 
Damn it....
I suppose that instead of being a "yummy mummy", I am a bit more of a "bummy mummy"? Yes, I have a caboose, and hips, and a tummy....and long boobs? What the hell happened there, anyways? It isn't enough that I have to haul around this giant ass, but my boobs have gone to hell too? I think that after we are done birthing our children, the government should give each mommy a choice...a boob job or tummy tuck.  Now I realize that this isn't something that everyone wants, but I'm just saying that productivity in the work force would probably go up.  Now I know what you're thinking...wtf? But just think about it for a second. 
There is a sports team (who...I don't know) that instead of giving the players the bonus', they give it to the wives, because they did their research.  Do you know what they found? "Happy wife. Happy life"!  
Let's be really honest here ladies. If you had a slamming body (yes I realize some of you do....) wouldn't you feel better about yourself? I mean, we all have our insecurities, I get that. But let me tell you this. If I went to bed tonight and woke up with Jennifer Aniston's body, I swear to you that I would probably spend the first week naked and I would be a savage in bed. Do you not think that my husbands moral at work wouldn't boost by about 100%? 
I mean it.  I would wear a bikini everywhere. Yes people...everywhere! I don't care that I live in Canada and it's winter. I don't give a rat's ass. Naked....that's all I'm saying.
But instead, I think I'll finish this post, and sit my fat ass on the couch, and finish the bag of chips calling my name from the cupboard. O.k...and the ice cream too.
I suppose I may not be a yummy mummy....or a milf or whatever sexually explicit name you'd like to give those hotties out there.  Instead, I'll just be me. I like chips, pizza, ice cream and what ever other food is too high in cholesterol and fat, and sugar. I struggle. I'll most likely never be thin again, and I am becoming increasingly lazy. But I'm kind, honest and a good friend. I love my family, and I work hard. So I stand tall....big ass and all.  This "bummy mummy" is becoming happy with who I've become. I'll still quietly curse all you hotties, with your perfect bodies, and perky boobs, but I am on this journey for self acceptance. I suppose that means accepting boobs that rest comfortably at my waist.  Screw you gravity..... 

"Reap" what we sow...

Today I write from a very different side of myself. With everything that I write, I try to come from a place of humor, happiness and laughter.  Today, this conversation takes a different turn. 

This conversation has the potential to make you uncomfortable. It may cause you to judge me, criticize me, or view me through different eyes. This may make you feel awkward. This may make you emotional. This is the hardest thing I will ever write.

This is my story. 

My rapist, doesn't think he's a rapist. My rapist thinks it's funny that he got away with it. My rapist told me to my face that it didn't happen, that what I accused him of wasn't the truth.

This has been my reality for the last 16 years. This is what haunts me. This is my shame to carry. I have thought at times, that because I wasn't assaulted in a back alley or dark stairwell, and because there was no fight...I did not scream.....that maybe it wasn't rape. What I have come to realize as a woman, is that it is a gray area. I have been shamed by my peers, and questioned my accusations against him, and often wondered....did I ask for it? I have relieved that night countless times, over and over and over and over in my memory. I have relieved the days and weeks that followed. When I watch T.V. I am reminded.When I watch movie's, I remember. When I hear stories, or read books....I relieve it. It is embarrassing. There is a huge amount of shame involved, when you know your attacker. A midst all the rumors, gossip and judgement, I carried on in high school as though nothing had happened. He was in several of my classes....I had no voice. I was on display for everyone to judge. Very few people believed me. I understand why......I question why not?  

I was 17. I was drinking in my home with my girlfriends. I was having a sleepover. I was a virgin. 

He had a girlfriend. He kept trying to get me to have sex with him. I was not that kind of girl.

By the end of this night, I would be raped, in my own bed, and not be aware of what had taken place. 

I was too drunk to know at the time, what had really happened to me. My friends were in the other room....they did not know what was happening to me behind that closed door.

I remember the events vividly as they unfolded, however, as a 17 year old girl who had never been intimate with anyone, I was truly unaware that I had actually been raped. I knew that I was bleeding, bruised and sore, but it had happened so fast, and I was so drunk that the time, I didn't understand. I didn't say "no". I didn't know I needed to. I repeated "you're hurting me", instead. I couldn't move my arms or legs. I didn't know I was having sex. I didn't know what sex was like.

I was extremely intoxicated. He was sober. 

In the days and weeks that followed, I was able to piece my memories together and figure out what had actually happened to me. He refused to talk to me, until I called him into the office at school. I did not have the chance to ask him anything before he uttered the words "are you pregnant?" It was confirmed for me, everything that I questioned, in that split second. 

The actual event, and how it unfolded is something that I can't put into words. It is for me to share with friends, fellow victims and people who know me. It is a "he said", "she said" situation. He was very popular at school. He is still well liked by a lot of people in our small town. I was made out to be a liar, to be promiscuous, to be "making it up". After 16 years, my account of that night has never changed. It made my last year of high school and years after, a night mare.  It changed the way people viewed me, and how I would be received for years after that. What exactly would I have gained, by lying?   

I have come to find out that in the last few years, he was bragging about what he did to me at a party. How he "got away with it". How he held me down. How he raped me.

I am forced, after 16 years to relive the emotions and humiliation again. They laughed at my expense. They thought it was funny. They didn't realize that he stole my innocence.

I was very much in love with a boy who had moved away. Although we were not together at the time, I always knew that we would eventually be together. I was saving that moment for him, when I was ready, and mature enough to handle a sexual relationship. Seventeen year old me was very much in love. When "R" finally came home, and we were in fact dating, I had to tell him about what happened. He walked that road with me. He always believed me. He never judged me. He held me hand, anytime that I may be in a situation to have to see him. He protected me, and defended me. He understood me. He loved me. He allowed me to believe that although I was damaged, I wasn't broken. I'm grateful for that, beyond words. 

After we broke up, I had to deal with all the fear and emotions that were left over from the rape. Without "R" there to walk life's road with me, and my heart shattered from the break up, I became promiscuous. I drank excessively and put myself into situations where I was left feeling empty, used and worthless. I was everything he told me I was. I became the person he accused me of being all along. My reputation was already so ruined, that from my broken shell of a woman, it didn't matter anyways. What I had to give, was all I was worth. He told me that.

All I was able to hear was his words. His rumors. His friends. His family.

I was no longer able to hear the words of the boy that loved me, the family that trusted in me, the friends that believed me. 

The events that took place that February night, changed who I was going to be. It changed the path I would walk down. The repercussions of what happened to me, will follow me for the rest of my life. But they will not define me, they will not control me, and they will no longer own me. I will not hide behind shame and humiliation anymore. I will not silence my voice. I will not allow the events of that one night, to determine every night that follows. I have had others come forward and confess that he has done the same to them, and yet on the same hand, had girls tell me that he was respectful and treated them great. I'm sure he did. I'm thankful that he did. Many of the girls I respect to this day, dated him, had sexual relationships with him, and loved him. I'm thankful for their sake that he never crossed that line. I'm thankful that they were saved from the grief, and humiliation that comes from having something so precious stolen from you. 

I worry about my son, my daughter and my step-daughter. I have never shared this with her. She is almost 15. I think about her safety often. I worry, that she too may be taken advantage of. I worry that she may be forced to grow up faster than any one had ever hoped. I hope that if nothing else ever comes of this....I hope that she hears my story. I hope that it makes her pause...listen to her instincts....follow the voice inside her. Be her own hero. Be cautious of the situations that she is in. Be true to herself. Be able to follow her own path, and not the path someone else decides for her.

I have been very blessed to find a man who is willing to listen. He try's to understand. He is my protector. He is the very person that stopped me on my path of destruction nearly 9 years ago. He makes me a better person. Together, we have owned our struggles, and confessed our past, and healed together. He embraces me for everything I have been, and have become. For him, I am thankful. For our struggles, I am thankful. For the future, I am thankful. For how hard I have worked to overcome my past, I am thankful. For where he is now.....I am thankful. For if nothing else... we reap what we sow. I guess in this case...we "rape" what we sow.

I choose to sow honesty, I choose to sow joy. I choose to sow happiness, laughter and love. I will always choose happiness, no matter how dark the past may be, you can overcome. You can inspire. You can believe. You can love. You can heal......I will. 

“I'm selfish, impatient and a little insecure. I make mistakes, I am out of control and at times hard to handle. But if you can't handle me at my worst, then you sure as hell don't deserve me at my best.” 
― Marilyn Monroe 

The Princess and the....Pee

So what's the average time spent potty training, these days? A couple months? A few weeks? A day or two? Hmmmm....or maybe 2 and half years! My daughter is a very smart little girl. Demanding, but smart. We are nearing her 4th birthday in less than a month, and I must say that the thought of that breaks my heart a little bit.  However, the reality that she continues to pee her pants on a daily basis takes some of that sadness away.  I let this fact slip with much trepidation, as there is a tremendous amount of judgement that goes along with an admission such as this one.  Let's face it, "mommy land" is judge mental, and is just the grown up version as "girl world". The two are hand in hand. It can be fairly nasty at times. So here I am, as usual, airing my secrets for the world to hear, and admitting to yet...again...another "failure" as a mommy.

"Do you think there's something wrong with her"? 

"Oooh, that's not normal"? 

"Have you taken her to the doctor"? 

These are just some of the lovely comments that I have received in recent months.  I am fully aware, that this has all been uttered by people who truly do care, and are honestly concerned about my child's well being.  However, let me be the one to correct all concern.....

My child is lazy. That's right. You heard it. There is no medical reason, other than her own bloody laziness that is attributing to this "condition". Frankly, if she doesn't want to take the time to walk away from what she is playing or doing, she would rather just pee her pants. Now there's something as a mother to be proud of. I have heard so many people say that girls are so easy to potty train....Ha!  Come on over. Give my daughter a try! I'm losing my marbles. Actually, at this point, I have just began to accept it.  She is quite capable of letting me know at the worst moments, that she has to go "potty". And she has proven to me that she has the ability to hold it. She has also proven, that she will wait until the last possible moment, at all times, before she is willing to go. This has proven to be a tremendous amount of fun for me. 

My favorite, is at the grocery store. When the lineup is really long, I get to the front, and she starts to dance...."I have to go potty". Are you kidding me? Now? Really? By this point, frankly, I could care less if she pee's her pants. This is the difference between first time mommy's and mommy's who have more than 1. Time becomes more important than another pair of pants in the wash.

Like hell am I going to lose my place in line! Does this make me a bad mom? Because I'll tell you that on more than one occasion, I have been given the "look" from bystanders in grocery stores, at school, the mall....all while I am making snap decisions that I am well aware look bad from the outside! I get it.  Mother hood is not pretty. Anyone who is making it look like it's super easy is a liar. That's right....liar. 

I will say, that her lack of concern in this department has definitely caused me to "close up shop".  Are you kidding? I have no interest to spend 10 years revolving my life around everybody else's potty schedule. Now I realize that I probably spend a lot more time blogging about bodily functions, but let's get real here for a second. Mom's don't say it. We just don't. We trudge along in the trenches, smiling and not really admitting to each other things like this. It's embarrassing. It makes us feel like failures, because it looks like everyone around us isn't struggling. When the reality is, they just are too scared to admit it. Because, they...like you...are afraid of being judged. Now I know that we all have our mommy friends that we get in to the nitty gritty with. Of course, I'm not saying that. What I am saying, is that maybe if as mommy's we judged strangers a little less and found more compassion in their struggles, things would be a lot different. 

Even if I am really organized, which I have to be, and manage to get her to the bathroom before any accidents happen, I am faced with yet, another dilemma. Something that I had never thought about when my kids were little. The "boy to girl" ratio. My son is now old enough to realize that he is going into the girls washroom. He is 6. Sometimes I feel like that old proverb about the goose, the wolf and the bag of grain. Think about it for just a second. There are situations where I am comfortable leaving him waiting outside. There are situations where I am o.k. letting him go into the men's washroom by himself. There are others where I am NOT.

We travel to the U.S.A a lot, being right on the other side of the border. We were at the mall. Miss C had to go potty. We are in another country. Perhaps I am over protective and nuts, but there was NO WAY I was leaving him to stand outside the ladies washroom, beside the front entrance of Target, while I waited for my independent, yet lazy 3 year old to go to the bathroom. Because I am NOT aloud to help...that creates a whole other set of issues that I will write about soon enough....

He lost his mind. I don't mean a little. I mean totally blew his lid, right there in the front door of the ladies room. I am struggling with a 3 year old about to pee her pants, a double stroller full of shopping bags, I am now blocking the doorway, and my 5 year old is literally holding onto the door jam screaming "no, I won't do it, I won't go in there"....as I am repeating the phrase "we are in another country, and your sister has to go potty, I can't leave you out here by yourself". I am sweating, disheveled and probably looked like a complete and absolute failure as a parent. However, my child wasn't kidnapped that day, so I suppose I wasn't such a failure after all. 

In recent months a 6 year old boy was assaulted at our local Costco, in the washroom by a 10 year old boy. He crawled under the door and bit the boy in the face, while the dad and sister stood outside the door waiting. Who's overprotective now! 

Are we always going to make good choices, when faced with decisions on the fly? Hell no. We are not. 

Are we going to make the decision that we feel is in the best interest of our children, at that moment, despite what kind of criticism we are going to get from family, bystanders, friends or strangers? I certainly hope so. I hope that I don't ever make decisions based on what I am afraid others will think. They may "know" my children....but they sure didn't "make" my children. Therefore, I'm pretty sure that no matter what ridiculous rule, or socially unacceptable decision I make....it's no ones to judge. 

Unless I am beating the hell out of my kids, or abusing them, then please step in. Clearly I have lost my marbles at that point.

So what! My daughter pee's her pants.....all the time. It could be worse. I hope that by the time we reach high school, this will have passed. As parents, a huge amount of the things we go through with our kids are "phases" and they do eventually pass. We hope.

As I write this, I hear from the other room..."mommy, I peed on myself". Now if that isn't art imitating life, I don't what is.  I'm happy to know that in our family, she is accepted for who she is. Thankfully, I am pretty laid back when it comes to this situation. I'm happy knowing that she'll never be spanked, or abused for the character of who she is. I'm happy knowing that I have the ability to find it funny when she puts her little hands up in the air and says "I just don't know why I keep doing that". She is amusing. She makes me laugh...and soon enough I know that she will too make me cry. She is everything that I have ever wanted in a little girl, but didn't know it. She is high maintenance, demanding, independent, and defiant. She is also funny, sweet and so full of love. She is everything that her daddy and I wished for. Even if she leaks....

Three blondes in a basement....

There are few things in life better than a best friend.  They are there to pick you up when you fall, call you out your own crap and generally create amusement at your expense at any given time.  That is what my best friend does for me.  We have been through A LOT in our nearly 20 years of friendship.  We have truly grown up together. Relationships like this are good for several reasons. 
1. it keeps you grounded. 
2. you can always be yourself and have no one to impress.
3. they retain too much information about you to end the friendship....


I can honestly say there are few who know me like my bestie.  She has walked my road of disaster behind me, collecting all the pieces I have left behind while I stumble around in life trying to figure my crap out.  She is much more together than I will even pretend to be.  She always has her i's dotted and t's crossed....while chances are I have not only forgotten a pencil, but the pad to write it on too. She has always been a bit of a clown.  I was always the one to steal the spotlight with my loud, obnoxious need  for attention...she was behind me pulling some sort of prank and getting all the laughs. We worked great as a team in our bar years.  The memories that we have carried with us, still to this day make us laugh.  And perplex us, as to how we actually made it out alive of some very tedious situations. Chances are, I probably showed some one my boobs...lets be honest.


As we have walked the path of mother hood together, our weekends of drinking and partying have been exchanged for scrap booking and shopping. We used to rush to the mall to get new outfits, and stock up on liquor when we came to each others houses. Now we dig out our sweat pants, load up on junk food and hit the craft store.  Never in my life did I really think that this is what we'd become. However, I enjoy the evolution of where we are....and the "girls" just don't rock a low cut shirt the way they used to anyways.


This past weekend, she and her family traveled the distance (ferry and all) to come and visit. We were very overdue for a serious scrap booking session, and frankly I was very excited!  As usual, it didn't take long before the stupidity that follows us, knocked on the door. Literally....


The night that she arrived, I had an upholstery class to attend. She stayed home with our 4 kids, and my girlfriend Elisa and I picked up her husband from a convention. We were about a half hour drive from our house.  On our way home, my cell phone rang, it was her. "We have a serious problem" she says. Now, coming from her, this could be any number of things.  The kids could have caused some sort of mayhem....the house could be on fire....or we could quite simply be out of potato chips. I was really not prepared for the response. "I'm locked in the basement".


Being self employed, I am required to have a lock on my basement playroom door due to health code. Now, I was in a predicament with this request. My children's playroom is on the other side of my salon, and the room has no actual exit. Only the windows. I had to decide which side to put the lock. If I put it on the inside, and my kids locked it and closed the door, I could never get back into the room. If I put it on the outside and you got locked in, you could climb out the window. So, we choose the outside. In the 2 years that the door has had a lock on it, it has only been locked twice....once the last time that she came to visit, by her youngest daughter...and this time, by her oldest. Do you see the irony in this? Now last time, she just crawled out the window (which is ground level) and went through the front door and unlocked it for the rest of us.  This time was a little tricky...


Because she was home alone, she had dead bolted both of my doors.  And because she arrived, after I had left, she had my only house key....in the house...on the other side of the locked door. So, even if she climbed out the window, it would leave ALL of the grownups outside of the house, and my kids locked upstairs and her girls locked downstairs.  Not a good feeling as a parent...but absolutely hilarious as an adult.  Did I mention she and both her girls are blonde? Even funnier.


While on the drive home, she and I discussed possible scenarios as to getting the door open. She attempted to pick the lock with one of my hole punchers....it broke off in the door. She used my hammer to bang the pegs out of the door hinge. It wouldn't open. So when we arrived, her husband, Elisa and I try to find just one window that's unlocked. Turns out, my house is super safe. Great when you're inside of it, not so great when your outside. We found the kitchen window was unlocked. We maneuvered a trunk to below the window and perched a ladder a top of that.  Thankfully, she had access to my scrap booking tools and was able to pass a blade through the window so we could cut the screen.  It's also a good thing her hubby is a chiropractor and not a surgeon as his screen cutting ability needed some work....(which Elisa and I teased him about the entire time he was teetering atop the ladder) Poor guy.


After he managed to get the screen off, he had to inch his way in through the window.  Through the window in my door, I could see the kitten staring up, with a perplexed look on her face.  It was truly hilarious.  I managed to snap a quick pic with him half out the window, and I have to admit that I laugh hysterically every time I look at it.  

This would only happen to her. It's one of those things that you log into your memory bank, to be brought up when we are in the nursing home.  I hope that when the day comes, and I lose my marbles, and have forgotten most of the things in my life, that God allows me to forget the heart break, sadness and loss that I will have endured over my life, and let's me keep my laughter, love and joy I was given.  I hope that our kids put us in the same "home" so we can re-live the ridiculous, stupid, and silly life lessons that we were taught. I hope that I will be able to remember all the laughter, and the things that linger with me and still make me laugh out loud at the most awkward moments. I hope that the day will come, that I will only remember all the amazing things that I have lived. I hope that this vision is burned into my sub conscience so that I may have many hours of laughter yet to come. I hope that when I have lost the ability to remember my own name, I remember my kids, my husband, my friends....but more than anything, I hope that I remember that in moments like this one, I was truly happy. 
Our friendship has stood the test of time so far. It has had it's up's and down's, and shared it's struggles. But there is no one on this earth that can bring me to laughter and make me almost pee my pants the way that she does. And let's face it, after two kids....that is no laughing matter...