Archive - 2010

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Site Policies
2
When Christmas Isn’t Exactly Merry…
3
Mouse Guest
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Dicknose
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You Say Santa, I Say Satan. Potayto, Potahto..
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A Bittersweet Anniversary and Post Traumatic Stress
7
Trail Traffic
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Chicken Shark
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Big Brother
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Something’s Cookin’

Site Policies

Disclosure: This is a personal blog written and edited by moi. The content on this site is never influenced by money or products I may receive for free. The views expressed here are mine-all-mine. When I left my career to look after our daughter, taking her to her medical appointments and therapies was my new priority; it’s why I chose to stay home. But what would I do to fill the creative void and bring in some money? I had blogged for years but never considered it as a career path. For the most part I write words for other people — like a modern day Cyrano de Bergerac. But in this space I write for me. I also occasionally have the chance to write about products I like and services that suit my family. “Review blogging” is tricky. Some people will put their name behind anything; give them a product and they will write a glowing review, as though adding “opinions are my own” absolves them from sincerity. These are my words. I won’t write about something that doesn’t work for me. Free products do not influence my opinion and I will never post about a product I don’t believe in or wouldn’t recommend to a friend.    Privacy Policy:   What information do we[…]

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When Christmas Isn’t Exactly Merry…

The holidays are a tiring, stressful, hectic time set smack in the midst of dreary winter. Unless you’re a child filled with wonder, Christmas can become more of a chore than a joy. But as parents we do our best to ensure our kids have a happy and memorable holiday, filled with the excitement we experienced in our own childhoods. Christmas morning at our house this year was filled with amazement and laughter. For the first time, Avery “got” Christmas. She was in awe of each present and her brother was floored by his gifts. It was, dare I say, magical. It wasn’t until Christmas night that mummy unraveled, just a little. Fa la la la la, sob, sob, sob wah. Avery did well sitting at the kids’ table at my in-laws’ and I actually got to eat my entire turkey dinner. Pretty much. Come dessert however, she was overtired, overstimulated and overwhelmed. In lieu of dessert and conversation, Avery and I went home so the rest of the family could visit. Getting her into her car seat was a struggle and a flailing arm made contact with my eye. I *may* have growled slightly. FYI: A sick and tired[…]

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Mouse Guest

‘Twas the night before, the night before Christmas, and all through the house, not a creature was stirring, not even a except for a mouse. At lights out our “Elf On the Shelf” gets up to some crazy tricks, but last night he was respectfully quiet. By the way, I think there might be something going on between him and Mr. Potato Head. I’m not judging, just saying. But, Hubby was not impressed that the elf and his spuddy polished off the last of the fruitcake. Our dog who blesses us with nightly “canine night terror howls” was also uncharacteristically silent. And our daughter (part girl-part night-owl) who has been waking up every night for hours finally gave us a break too. She and her brother stayed quietly nestled in their beds all night, and their day slept soundly with limited snoring, probably dreaming of sugar plums dancing in his head (the guy has a ridiculous sweet tooth). As I attempted to drift off to sleep in my kerchief, I heard a “scratching, scurrying” sound from the ceiling directly above my head. It could only be a mouse. Or perhaps a herd of mice. I’m terrified of rodents.I plugged my[…]

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Dicknose

  Eons ago on a date with a new boyfriend, we took his three year old nephew to the park. I was anxious to demonstrate my maternal side, so I pushed the little tyke on the swings, chased him enthusiastically through the grass, climbed the play structure with him and carried him piggy back style rambunctiously across the park. I was sure I’d look up to find my boyfriend watching me admiringly, imagining me as the mother of his future children. How could he not? I was busting my motherly hump. Did I mention the back breaking piggyback thing? When my boyfriend asked his nephew his opinion of the new girlfriend, the little wiseguy replied, “She’s a dicknose. Excuse me? A dicknose says what? Fine. He was three and apparently this was his new thing—he called everyone a dicknose. Stellar parenting on my-never-to-be-sister-in-law’s part by the way. Sorry, too judgey? (In my defense, the child called me a dicknose!) Alas this boyfriend and I never married nor had a brood of babies. Turns out, the dicknose kid’s uncle was a dickhead. Sigh.That guy did a number on me. If only I knew in my twenties what I now know in[…]

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You Say Santa, I Say Satan. Potayto, Potahto..

  While the kids are out of the house today, I’m putting on my Santa hat. Actually, it’s more of a Satan hat to be honest. I’m pms-y and not in a festive frame of mind. I just cracked open a bag of Ruffles so things should improve once I ingest enough sodium. I’m trying to take advantage of the kid-free environment by wrapping ALL of the Christmas gifts. The thing is, I’ve hidden them all over the house and need to retrace my steps to find them. This would be funny except the pms-thing. I should really suck it up. I mean, Christmas is coming for Christ’s sake. Literally. hahaha.  Ok, that made me laugh.  Ahhh, the sodium must be kicking in. I love really do love Christmas. Everything about it. Minus the busy mall parking lots. Despise. This year is especially exciting since my youngest “gets” Santa for the first time. I asked her this morning, “Who’s coming soon?” She answered, “My grandma?” Well, yes. She’ll be coming. “But who else? Is Santa coming?” “Yessssss!” she exclaimed. “He bring pwezents.” Ahhh. You got that right girlfriend.  Budget be dammed. Santa is bringing you and your brother a pant load of presents.[…]

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A Bittersweet Anniversary and Post Traumatic Stress

  This story was originally published in 2010. Avery continues to do well on her anti-seizure meds and life is good. 🙂 It was an ordinary day. If you consider 40 degrees Celsius in May normal. Avery and I dropped big brother at school and went through our day like any other. It was exactly one year since her first seizure—a severe and nearly fatal episode. I never seen a war, but yet I have Soldiers Heart nonetheless. At least that’s what they used to call it. Today we know it as Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. PTSD usually develops as a result of a “terribly frightening, highly unsafe or life-threatening experience.” It doesn’t make a difference whose life was threatened – yours or the life of someone you love. People who experience post traumatic stress tend to avoid places, people, or things that remind them of the event. But what happens when you live WITH the person who reminds you of the trauma IN the place where it happened? I tell you what happens; you avoid thinking about that event, ever. If you find yourself feeling any emotions related to said event, you crack a joke, call a friend or[…]

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Trail Traffic

When the morning commuters back out of their drive-ways in my neighbourhood, I can’t help but feel left behind. And when my son comes home from school at the end of a day filled with joyous grade two excitement, I feel a pang.  “That was mummy’s grade,” I remind him regretfully. After years of schooling to prepare for a decade in a career I loved, I’m now a stay-at-home-mom. You’d think I’d be used to this role by now. I’m not. Well, not really. But then, there are days like today. When I can call up my newly retired dad and say, “Hey, whatcha doing? Wanna come over?” We’re two free agents with the entire day ahead of us.  Today was a picture perfect day for a walk in the woods with two of my favourite people (and one happy canine). In the midst of our hike, I took a moment, closed my eyes and turned my face to the sun. It was so quiet. (All the loud people had driven off to work hours before!). The only sound was the leaves rustling in the trees. And farther along the trail, I quite literally stopped to smell the roses (aka[…]

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Chicken Shark

I write hundreds of posts every week.  Unfortunately, about 99 of them are in my head and never make it from there to here. I’m not making excuses (yes I am) but I’ve been busy. And forgetful.  By the time I sit down at the computer at night, the stellar blog posts created in my brain during the day have evaporated.  Sometimes they come back to me, but mostly not (clearly evident by the drivel that is unfolding before you right about now). This week I rebuilt my blog in WordPress, which is a sleeker, more user-friendly blogging format.  All I need to do now is transfer these Blogger posts over and figure out how to redirect this address over there. I guess I’ll have to watch yet another online tutorial. And why exactly am I doing this when I have a million other things on the go? It’s not like it’s urgent or that the format I write in makes a difference.  This past few weeks has been stressful.  So stressful I haven’t been able to write about it all yet.  And when I’m stressed, I need to keep moving.  I’m like a shark.  Just keep swimming, keep on[…]

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Big Brother

I write about Avery often. I can’t help it. She generates a lot of unique questions along this uncharted parenting path. I feel guilty about that, as though the things her big brother does aren’t as special or important.  This isn’t the case at all.  He, is perfect. In every way. He’s smart and thoughtful and kind.  He’s funny and creative and he makes me ridiculously proud and grateful to be a mother. Sometimes, I can’t believe he’s mine. I feel so lucky I could cry.  And sometimes, I do (who am I kidding, lots of times…I’m a sappy, sucky cry baby. I admit it).

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Something’s Cookin’

Life with kids can get messy. I’ve had to curb my neat freak ways and let the blocks (and Lego pieces and dolls and picture books) fall where they may.  My kitchen these days looks like a toy store exploded and honestly, I’m ok with it.  As long as the bulk of it stays off the floor so I don’t trip while carrying a pot a boiling spaghetti water, I’m good. We have a “choice board” posted in the kitchen. This is where Avery’s activities are displayed for the day. This way she knows what to expect. It also helps to build language skills and provides her with choices. There’s rarely a day when she doesn’t select “kitchen play” as one of her free choice activities. Here’s the thing, kids learn by playing. Imaginations come to life in the kitchen and all children benefit from role playing and imitating.  Children, like Avery, who have speech delays benefit even more. We set up a play kitchen IN our kitchen.  It’s fully stocked with plastic dishes, utensils, pots and pans and plastic food of every description. When I’m in the “big” kitchen preparing a meal..what? I do so cook!…Avery is often right[…]

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