Archive - October 2014

1
Protecting The Pearlies—Dental Care For Kids
2
This New Form Of YOGA Is Sure To Catch On
3
Whispers Behind Her Back
4
Giving Old Skin The Boot — Tana Loves Shoes
5
Honk If You’re Hornet—A Rant About Wasps
6
All About That Stretch—Parenting & Paper Towels
7
Oh How We’ve Grown
8
A Family Hairstory
9
Parallel Parking Paranoia Isn’t Pretty

Protecting The Pearlies—Dental Care For Kids

  Whether we’re talking about kids with special needs or little ones who haven’t quite yet mastered the skill of brushing, flossing and… SWISHING (that’s a tough one), dental care is a skill that needs to be taught. Cavities WILL happen if we’re not vigilant in our fight against the “Plague Monster!” I prefer, “Sugar Bug” but Plaque Monster seems appropriate this month. October is Dental Health Awareness Month AND Halloween. Coincidence??  I’m on dental hygiene with my kids like braces on a tween, like taffy on braces, like Chapstick on winter lips, like white sludge on your tongue after a night of drinking….you get the idea. I’m on it.    NOT because I’m winning at parenting or anything. I’m hyper hygiene aware, dentally speaking, because I have to be. If Avery requires any kind of dental work, she needs to be put under. Like, fully sedated in a hospital and obviously, that scares the crap out of me.   She won’t stay still long enough for the dentist to do his thing, and due to a breathing issue, she can’t be quieted with gas so…   ….when the dentist tells me they’ve found a cavity, I need to be quieted with gas. Saying goodbye to your child as she’s[…]

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This New Form Of YOGA Is Sure To Catch On

I love yoga. Or more accurately, the idea of yoga. Not to mention the sinewy limbs that come from actually practicing yoga instead of sitting on your ever widening ass watching You Tube videos about yoga while eating crackers slathered in 115 mls of apple butter. If this yoga class comes to a studio near me, I’m so signing up. HILARIOUSLY calming. Who’s with me?

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Whispers Behind Her Back

  You can barely hear them. She can’t hear them at all, and I like it that way. They’re soft and intermittent and I can almost always ignore them. Sometimes I can even silence them with a look or an explanation or sometimes with just a tiny shot of snark. Mostly they’re the whispers of strangers and who cares what they think? She doesn’t notice them and even if she did, she wouldn’t understand them. If she did, she’d probably just smile and reach out her hand because she’s gentle and kind and forgiving like that. Sometimes I also want to reach out my hand. But in a more, “come over here so I can slap your head” kind of way. Though my daughter has many friends, last year she made a new friend and this relationship was special. This little girl had just moved to Canada with her father while her mother remained overseas. Her new friend came over to our house often to play and attend parties and she called Avery on the phone. How excited my little girl was to have the phone ring—for her. Between Avery’s delayed speech and her friend’s broken English, it was the[…]

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Giving Old Skin The Boot — Tana Loves Shoes

  My poor neglected boots… You thought I was talking about my 40-something skin? That’s okay. My skin is starting to resemble a potato, but it has to do with hormones and over-tanning in the 80s. My leather boots have also seen better days—but due to harsh Canadian winters and dehydration. Like our skin, leather boots (and shoes, purses and belts for that matter) need cleaning and moisturizing. My husband shakes his head at how much money I’m willing to spend on a pair of boots. Take the classic Frye boots I’m saving for—my family might have to eat baked beans for awhile, but these boots will be an integral part of my wardrobe for many years to come. So I need to protect them or my family will give me the boot. So to speak. My current foot faves are these browny-grey Fossil boots. I’ve had them for three years and they’re starting to show their age. Why yes, I AM aware these descriptors also describe the boot wearer. Ha, ha, sob. A little TLC up front would have helped to preserve them, but thankfully there are ways to bring them back to life. Following in his father’s footsteps[…]

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Honk If You’re Hornet—A Rant About Wasps

    Alternate titles for this post include: Thugs Of The Insect World We Don’t Like You, So Buzz Off Get Off My Apple Arsehole You’ll Never Make Honey. Get Over It Wasps Are Wankers Go Back To Your Own Planet Wasps. What Are They Good For? Absolutely Nothing. I decided on the hornet inclusive title because a) LOL! and b) Hornets are jerks too. So are wasps good for anything? They’re part of our ecosystem (though I stand by my claim that they are invaders from another planet. Magnify them about 100x and you can totally imagine a wasp-alien eating Sigourney Weaver). Wasps eat pests like aphids and other creepy little insects. They also act like tiny vultures by eating and disposing of dead rotting stuff. I know this is a helpful thing; the circle of life and all that, but why do they have to be so annoying about it? Go ahead and eat my apple core, but can you at least wait until I put it down? And when a raccoon has a tantrum and hurls my food waste bin across my lawn, do you really have to swarm me like that? I’m merely trying to remove[…]

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All About That Stretch—Parenting & Paper Towels

I won’t skimp on paper plates, toilet paper or paper towels. Clearly I’m rather particular about my paper products. We all have our things. Our new favourite paper product? Viva Vantage—a new brand of premium paper towel being introduced to Canada.  They’re all about the stretch, ‘bout that stretch… which means, no trouble. They also provide some pretty great parenting perks. Seriously. Watch this!  P.S. Paper Towels Curls are probably the easiest and cutest hair style ever! Avery rocks these Shirley Temple curls. #cuteness 🙂 Try them for yourself! Visit vivatowels.ca to get a coupon.     This post was brought to you by Viva® Vantage however the images and opinions are my own.  For more information please visit www.vivatowels.ca.

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Oh How We’ve Grown

  When this first photo was taken my daughter was three years old and just started having status epilepticus seizures and I was STRESSED out. And skinny. I felt sick to my stomach a lot of the time—great for my jeans, but not much good for anything else. Five years later, we’ve settled into our lives. There are still stressful moments, but as you can clearly see by my shapely rump, I’m not letting it get to me. “A fourth slice of pizza? Why yes, I think I will.” This post isn’t a commentary on weight gain or the fact that my hair hasn’t changed much in half a decade. No, it’s more about… ~ leaning on friends and family ~ understanding it’s easier to focus on the negative than to find the positive, but that the latter is so much better ~ choosing to laugh, because sometimes it really is a choice ~ being gentle with yourself (I’m still working on that) ~ realizing we can’t control everything (working on that one too!) ~ spending meaningful time with family because man, kids grow up fast don’t they?? ~ learning that stress can be managed with a little work and[…]

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A Family Hairstory

  I am beautiful. At least this is the message I try to model for my daughter. However, when my head is dotted with dry broken hairs, spiking out from my crown, I feel more like a cactus than a beautiful woman. I envy my daughter’s downy mane and I can’t help but stroke it until she tells me to stop hair-assing her. What? You didn’t think this post wouldn’t include a few stray hair puns, did you? Wait! Before you try to escape via some excuse about having to go wash your hair, read on… I have hair tips for you. No really. Perhaps you’ll even call me your hair-o? Okay, okay…I’ll use the puns sp-hairingly.    The other day my son said, “Mum, you have a lot of colours of hair. There’s black hair under your yellow hair and all kinds of white hairs mixed in.”  I am beautiful, I am beautiful, I am beautiful. I must keep repeating this mantra despite my children’s vulgar honesty. I visited the Beauty Supply Outlet last week in search of a cactus-head serum of some kind. My daughter and my mom came along —just us blondes. Well, one natural blonde. Two[…]

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Parallel Parking Paranoia Isn’t Pretty

I’ve been actively avoiding parallel parking since my driver’s test in 1986 when I grazed* the curb during the parking component. I’ve had PTSD—Parking-Trauma Stress Disorder—ever since. I’ll drive around the block seven times in an attempt to find a spot wide enough for me to pull straight in. Parallel parking is for Europeans in minis, not suburban moms in mini-vans. *grazed = slammed into Source On the rare occasion when I’ve HAD to parallel park my stress level has been unparalleled. Last year I drove my friend Sarah to an event downtown. I was fine to get us there. I’m reasonably okay at moving my vehicle forwards and backwards. It’s sideways—specifically sideways into a parking spot—that makes me sweat. Upon finding the perfect spot right in front of our event, Sarah encouraged me to parallel park into the tiny spot….on a one way street, with tons of cars crammed with impatient drivers, judging me. I made three attempts with the final effort landing us up on the curb. And not just a little bit. I was ON THE SIDEWALK blocking pedestrians. Sarah looked at me with shock and pity. Then she said rather sternly, “Get out.” She banished me[…]

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