My life in pictures, stories and open letters.

My life in pictures, stories and open letters.

Please be advised that you are entering my blog.
My blog.
The opinions herein are mine.
I am free to rant and vent to my heart's content.
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Regardless of the option you choose, I hope you have a fabulous day!

Thursday, April 13, 2017


It is often spoken of like it is the worst possible fate for a human.  Worse than cancer. 
The tone with which people even say the word makes you think it is shameful and disgusting.
I suppose it is.
People have been known to say, to me, “I don’t want to get fat!”  And they use that tone.
Do you know that fat people are harder on themselves than anyone else could ever be?
Yes, I’m fat.
I don’t have a thyroid condition.  I have no other possible medical excuse.
I’m fat.
Because I have had a life full of bad habits.
Because I love sugar.
Because I have a sedentary job.
Because I have crappy genetics.
Because after baby number three, I just didn’t have it in me to fight it anymore.

Because, dammit, I like to eat.  And even as temporary as it is, eating makes me happy. It gives me pleasure.
But you know what? It turns out happiness is just as temporary.  
And so I will eat.  And enjoy it.  And be miserable.  And hate myself.  But I will still eat. 

Wednesday, April 05, 2017

On the radio this morning the announcers were asking for our earliest memory. I got to thinking about when I was three or four years old and went to Joanne’s house with my brother.  He was all of five or six and was going to play with Joanne’s brother,  so I tagged along. 

When he was ready to go, I opted to stay behind and play with Joanne. 

Keep in mind, if I’m four at this point, it is just barely.  I may have still been three.
When it was time for me to go, Joanne’s mom asked if I know my way home and of course I said yes.

I may have mentioned that I was incredibly young, but you should know that I was also new to the area and that it was at least a ten block walk from their door to mine.

Ten blocks means nothing, however, when you go the wrong direction right from the get-go.

So, no.  NO!  I’m three and 10 blocks from home.  NO I DON’T KNOW MY WAY HOME!

To this day, it amazes me that anyone could look at a preschooler and think that they are okay to venture out in the world all alone.  

I remember wandering, crying, down busy 50th street, having no idea where I was. 

I remember a car pulling over and a nice lady asking if I was lost. 

I remember sitting on her lap in the front seat while they drove away.

And they took me to Woolco.


Yes. Woolco.

While this wonderful family was bringing me to the local department store, (my American friends could compare this to a Walmart) my mom, dad and two brothers are riding bikes around the neighbourhood looking for me.  My mom is yelling at my brother, who at five years old, was to be responsible for me.  They decided ‘that’s it!  We’re checking Woolco and then we’re going to the police station!’

Yep.  Woolco.  I’m not kidding.

They walked in and there I was, sitting at customer service, eating licorice. 

Tuesday, August 23, 2011

After a little reflection...

I realized how lucky I am.

Coworkers are expecting babies in the next few months. This is, of course, a new and exciting time for them - one is even expecting TWINS! They have much joy, and much fatigue, in their futures. They have the excitement of all the firsts - steps, smiles, teeth, words. Oh, I remember it well.

My life, these days, however, is different. So much different. And it took giggling over baby bellies for me to realize that many of those differences are actually quite awesome. Yes, I will enjoy watching their bellies grow and will snuggle those little ones endlessly given the opportunity (the babies, not the bellies). I would pat little diaper bums and rub circles on their wee backs. I would look at their beautiful little faces and make gooey noises at them.

But no. You could not pay me a million dollars to go back there myself. I've done my years (almost 18 of them so far at my oh-so-young age of 38) and cherish them. But I'm happy to move on.

Yes, I have teenage girls. And a younger girl who thinks she is a teenager. Yes, they swear at me and roll their eyes and stay up too late and write "I thot you loved me" in the dust on my car. Yes, they can choose their own friends, and it doesn't matter whether or not I like them, seeing as how they schedule their own playdates now. (And trust me, if any of those playdates result in me rocking a babe-in-arms again, heads are gonna roll!)

Yes, there are demands for money and more scheduling and plenty of "that's gay!" comments. There are scantily clad self portraits on facebook and lots of creepers that they trust because that's what big-hearted girls do. There is girl drama and cat fights constantly. And yes, money is extremely tight.

There is more clean up than every before. They are far messier than any toddler, with the exception that they don't fingerpaint on the walls with their own poop. But they are still plenty gross nonetheless. There is still much potty talk and a whole lotta bodily functions.

And keeping the oldest one dressed is almost harder now than it was when she was two.


The majority of my time now is spent driving kids around. Of trying to remember who has to be where when. Of homework (soon) and school nights and late-night phone calls. Of fighting over computer and TV time. Of trying to convince the offspring that it is okay to help with dishes, do their laundry and clean their own room. Of watching them play sports with no car seats or strollers.

And while I no longer stand by a crib carefully watching a little chest move up and down, I do sometimes stand by an empty bed in a pink tinkerbell bedroom wondering when the little body who belongs there will be home. A reminder that my life isn't perfect. (Yet.)

The rest of my time, the time I've been most concerned about over the past years - me time - has come to me in abundance. For the most part. With the exception of the stuff I've already mentioned, my life is my own now.

As I sit here, finally blogging, I have one kid out (somewhere), another watching TV and the third out playing on the block with her friends. I have come down to the computer in peace. There is no screaming. No tantrums. No demands on my time.

And I can sit and read a book on the deck with no interruptions.

As promised, things do get better - and easier - as I become less important in my childrens' lives. Their independence is my independence.

How sweet is that?

Tuesday, June 07, 2011

Life without kids?

There are writing prompts that speak to you sometimes, and this was it for me.

3.) Describe what you think your life would be like if you had never had kids.
(inspired by Amy from Somebody's Parent)

A life with no kids?

Let's pretend for a moment that there are some good parents out there who will choose this option - and that I am one of them. Yes, we know better, but work with me here, okay?

I wasn't the youngest mom out there, but I was the youngest of my circle. So, let's take a look at my life for a moment without those cranky, hormonal beings that insist on living here and calling me "mom" (on a good day).

I would get up in the morning with no one to haul out of bed but myself. The shower would be mine, when I want it. My conditioner would be full, AND it would be a salon brand. There would be towels clean and folded, as opposed to wet and crumpled on my floor. I would save an extra five minutes because I wouldn't have to look around for my hairspray. It would just be right where I left it.

I would most certainly not be living here. I would be in some executive apartment style condo with a gym and a pool and I would be mortgage free.

I would leave for work when I was ready. There would be no angry children on my heels waking the neighbourhood. My work phone would be answered to those calling for a real reason, not just wondering what was for supper.

I would have extra money that wouldn't need to be spent on field trips, child care and truck loads of candy for bribes. Money would be plentiful. I would drive a cutesy little convertible two-seater, and my wee little no-baby-body (that I keep this way because I am a most awesome fitness trainer) would be dressed to kill. My fake blond hair would be blowing in the wind. I would be quite amazing.

I would be free to see my friends, who wouldn't be so free to see me due to their own children getting in the way of their lives. And I would be completely judgemental about the way they are raising said children and absolutely and totally upset that they can't just go out at the drop of a hat like I can.

I would take amazing holidays to far away places. I would have so many more options with only one or two people to pay for, instead of five. Greece, Italy, Paris, Hawaii and Fiji. Oh. My. Stars. And did I mention my bikini body?

Last, but certainly not least, I would have no one to do 17 loads of laundry for every week. No one to come home to cook and clean for. No one to tell me that I'm effing stupid, or that they hate me. No one to embarrass by playing my Glee Rocky Horror Picture Show music full bast with all the windows down. No one to shout "I love you" to outside of their school in front of their friends. I would have no tiny little soccer players of my own to watch and cheer for. No cheerleaders or singers to make my heart full.

There would not be a precious little seven year old snoring and sneaking her thumb under the blanket in bed here beside me.

And that would really suck. My time will come. And I will try to be patient and wait it out.

They're worth it, after all. I think.

A Repost from exactly two years ago, in honour of our upcoming first camping trip of the season.

And all he's left with is a blubbery, blubbering wife.

So, we went camping in our new-to-us trailer for the first time this weekend.

Oh. My. Stars.

I'm one of those wives who tends to think about things before diving in. Thus, my endless questions about how much weight our truck can pull. More questions about "What if we push on the slideout without the bars being put on (because it would be just like us to forget....)?" Does he know how to pump out the crap? Load the fresh water? Are the stabilizer bars on okay? What are those boards for? Are you sure we don't need one of those triangle things on both sides? How is the truck doing? Maybe if you take it out of cruise control on the hills it won't be so hard on the motor. Are you sure the dog isn't going to jump out? Aren't we too close to the neighbours fire pit? Isn't our own fire pit going to burn our awning? You should be using your emergency break.

Yup. That's me.

Aren't I amazing? Leon is so lucky to have me. Just consider everything he would have screwed up if I wasn't there. In fact, he is so confident that I helped iron out all the bugs this first time out that he figures he's okay going without me from now on.

I'm just kidding. He's stuck with me most times.

Although, I do have to say that for someone who is so on the go all the time - and I do seriously mean all the time - camping is incredibly boring. I mean, really, what the heck do you do out there? And let us remember that I'm a boredom eater. A Costco size bag of M&M's, ice cream, raw weiners, coolers. I'm going to be a house if I go camping very often!!

You get up in the morning and brush your teeth outside in front of your neighbours so you don't waste water or grey water tank space. Then you have breakfast outside in front of all of your neighbours. Then you sit outside and scratch your butt in front of all your neighbours. It's a little weird when you think about how much of yourself you are sharing with these neighbours.

And then the neighbours get to delight in watching this first time trailer family.

They can laugh at you while you back into your stall, get everything set up, and then realize you forgot to stop at the water tap and fill up, so you hook the trailer back up and head out to get water. Then you think the water is full, so you go back to your stall and set up and realize the hose is a little funky so you actually didn't get any water at all, so you make trips to the water tap with a jug and fill it manually anyway.

They can watch while I pull out the lawn chair/bed thing. I laid it out so carefully and got the back and legs just where I want them. With my book in one hand and drink in the other, I go to sit down and suddenly I'm laying on the ground with my legs in the air. I guess the one set of legs didn't lock into place. And if they didn't see it actually happen, the laughter from my family most definitely made them look after the fact. (I was a little stunned and laid there for a few minutes, laughing foolishly at myself.)

They watch, and smell, while the girls scam poor Olivia into scooping up dog poop. Really big dog poop.

They listen while my dysfunctional children (hey, it's them, not me!) have atter in their high-pitch, blood-curdling ways.

They get to enjoy the singing around the campfire (decked out in winter jackets for crying loud!) as my girls put on a concert. Lordy, do they sound beautiful together!

Then finally, they help while Leon "breaks" the trailer. Our jack broke and he had to try a make shift jack to get the ball/hitch thing hooked up on the truck. CRASH! Down goes our trailer. Thankfully we had a farm girl next door who just the week before had to learn this process when their tire fell off their combine.

It was not pretty. At all. I had to walk away to have a meltdown. At that moment I decided this camping thing was just too stressful. And really really really frigging cold. Did I mention that?

Then we got home. And there was almost nothing to unpack, save two loads of laundry and the perishables from the fridge/freezer.

How totally handy is THAT??

I think I'll go out again after all.

Originally posted June 8 2009

Saturday, June 04, 2011

The Executive Chef

Olivia's big commercial debut! Well done baby girl!

Thursday, February 24, 2011

Is It Wrong?

Is it wrong that my daughter loves to get zipped into a collapsible Dora laundry hamper?

Is it wrong that she rolls around behind me
while I tidy around the house?

Is it wrong that she wiggles and giggles in this thing?

For hours?

Yeah, I don't think so either.

Wednesday, February 23, 2011

Cassie's Big Day

Cassie's 14.

Oh. My. God.

Isn't she beautiful?

And she has her learner's license.

Lord help us all.

Tuesday, February 22, 2011

Another Year --- Another Cheer

Just some pics of the Victoria Co-Ed awesomeness. This is the 25th year Vic has won the Cities competition. And Oh. My. God. Is it fabulous!

See the post below for the video!

RIBT 2011 Redmen Invitational Victoria Co-Ed