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Chicken Shark
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Something’s Cookin’
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Feeling Saucy
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Nothing Says Sad Like A Soggy Sandwich
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There Will Be Tears
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Hard Labour Day
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Wait…That May Not Be Chocolate
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Trippin’
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Just Blew In From Michigan and Boy Am I FAT!
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If The Shoe Fits, Wear It… Unless People Make Fun Of You

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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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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Feeling Saucy

In the past two weeks, my baby girl flew the coop and flocked off to Kindergarten, I went on an adventure to the Big Apple, and dipped one toe back into the teaching pool… All good things, but I’m left feeling a little worn out. And when I’m tired I do moronic things.  Much to the amusement and/or horror of those around me. Like making spaghetti sauce sandwiches for the kids. In a tired stupor last night, I mistook the spaghetti sauce jar for the jam jar. For some reason the kids weren’t overly enthused about cream cheese and spaghetti sauce sandwiches in their lunch boxes. They’re picky like that.  Ingrates. 😉

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Nothing Says Sad Like A Soggy Sandwich

Parenting is challenging. Not exactly a newsflash. But parenting a child with special needs is challenging in ways I never expected. The love I feel for both my children is equal, but the fear and uncertainty around my daughter is more gut wrenching and harder to shake. I’m fairly certain friends and family had a betting pool about the state I’d be in today. Well, sorry to disappoint those who put their money on Train Wreck.  Turns out, this morning I was merely a titch tender.  What these gamblers didn’t know, was I got most of my tears out yesterday.  What set me off was making lunches for the kids last night. As I quartered Avery’s grapes, it hit me that I wouldn’t be there to help her.  I boo-hooed as I cut off her sandwich crusts and then sobbed when I noticed tears had fallen on her bread. I’m not exactly sure why I found that so sad. Anyway, during this melt down, my poor husband was doing the nervous eye dart, back and forth as if to say, “Holy shit. My wife has lost it. What do I do now? Anyone. Anyone??” Fortunately, an intervention wasn’t necessary. By[…]

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There Will Be Tears

Avery starts school tomorrow. Full day Junior Kindergarten, three days a week. I….am a wreck.  Many kind people have reached out to tell me, “It’s ok. It gets easier. She’ll love it. You’ll be fine.” All thoughtful and well-meaning comments. And it’s true, she will love it. And she will be fine. But will I? And will it really get easier? I felt the usual pangs and sentimental sorrow on my son’s first day of Kindergarten four years ago.  But it got easier, fast. But he didn’t stand out from his peers in a blatant and painfully awkward way. I didn’t have to meet with the school to discuss emergency procedures and ambulance protocol. He didn’t have to wear a helmet at recess to protect his curly haired head from frequent falls on the unforgiving blacktop. He didn’t have his own personal Educational Assistant shadowing his every move to ensure his safety. He didn’t wear a diaper. He didn’t receive quizzical looks from his peers or other parents. He was happy. He fit in. I didn’t worry. But this is different. Now I worry. All the time. A lot. We never thought we would see this day. Avery was never[…]

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Hard Labour Day

  This Labour Day weekend has been ripe with nothing but…hard labour – housework, grocery shopping, banking and more housework. I enjoy filing and making lists, sorting items into neat little baskets and arranging books by size. My kids’ closets contain labelled bins and clothes arranged by type and colour. Whenever I’m stressed, I open their closet doors and stare. The order of it all soothes me. That’s not normal is it? I guess they don’t tack “freak” to the end of neat for nothing. Being neat however, is not the same as being clean. Beyond the colour coded folders lay epic dust balls and sticky floors. Lately my attention to housekeeping basics has declined. The combination of a busy schedule, a potty training toddler and fatigue has taken its toll. It’s bad, but not this bad –> “Please Excuse the Mess” Yesterday as I vacuumed and dusted and sorted and mopped, I noticed my seven year old following behind me. “Are we having a party tonight?” He asked. “No” I replied. He thought for a minute and said, “I just wondered because this (cleaning) isn’t something you usually do.” Busted. This fall, I vow to have the cleanest house[…]

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Wait…That May Not Be Chocolate

Know what pisses me off? Running to the bathroom after filling a shriveled bladder with vast amounts of green tea only to find somebody (I won’t mention any names, but she’s blonde and lives in my house) has peed on the seat. You frantically grab a wad of toilet paper to mop up the mess so you can take your rightful spot on the throne, but your bladder has already started the downloading process. It’s that whole Pavlovian thing in action. So you wet your pants. And for no good reason. It’s not like you were having fun and laughing so hard you peed a little. Sorry. I’ve got pee on the brain, so to speak. These days our household is consumed with pee. And poop. We’re in the midst of potty training booty camp. DS was fully potty trained by the age of two. It took a week. I used a cleverly organized sticker system and Potty Champ reward chart. I was the one who deserved a reward…for super stellar parenting. Seriously? I was a fool. DS was just a good pee-er. It had nothing to do with me. At all. My daughter has made that abundantly clear. She’s[…]

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Trippin’

  I love everything about traveling; the logistics and planning ahead, stumbling upon something new and unexpected, exploring the unknown. I used to travel a lot in my single days. It was carefree and liberating. Those days seem to be over now. At least until our children are older. Taking a trip with kids is a lot different than traveling solo. There’s a whole new set of concerns and elements to consider. As we drove along the highway this summer on our family vacation, I had time to reflect (thank god for dvd players and stacks of Disney movies) about my favourite trip of all. It was an experience that both terrified and thrilled me. It was one of those soul changing, life shaping adventures that you never forget. This post is more of a personal scrapbook page than an actual blog entry, so please excuse the indulgence. I wanted to preserve some of my favourite pictures online…just in case. As I was looking through my old travel albums, I came across a poem I wrote. It’s corny and an amateur effort, but it makes me smile. Here it is….with pictures. Oh What A Long Strange Trip It’s Been ~[…]

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Just Blew In From Michigan and Boy Am I FAT!

Hi blog. It’s me, Lisa. I’ve missed you. I’m sorry if you’ve felt neglected. It’s the summer though so cut me some slack. I meant to stop in. I even planned in my head what I was going to say to you. But then I’d get distracted and wander off, most likely in the direction of something salty or deep fried or chocolately or beery. Hence my fat ass. Seriously. My pants are straining to keep all of me held in. In June, I had visions of getting ripped this summer and sporting my beach body all over town. Instead, the only thing ripped is my too tight pants. Why didn’t anyone warn me that chips and beer are fattening? At least I still have ice-cream. That’s healthy right? It’s just milk. Have you ever seen a fat cow? Oh crap. Anyway, I just wanted to tell you that I’m back from vacation. Ever been to a Chihuahua wedding? I have and Imma gonna tell you all about it. Soon. But right now…. I have to get this booty on a treadmill! (Hey Jen, does that saying ring a bell? LMAO!)… Sigh. Wouldn’t it be great if you could actually[…]

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If The Shoe Fits, Wear It… Unless People Make Fun Of You

Despite what you may have heard, I love shoes. There was a time way back in the day when I wore stylish heels, strappy sandals and cool Espadrilles. These aren’t so bad, are they? My chiropractor thinks they’re hot.   Then I left my job and stayed home to care for our daughter. Heels gave way to flip flops and Birkenstoks. Gotta love a birk…the way they mold to my feet, even with socks (only around the house, I swear) they’re like a second, tougher, more hippy lovin’ skin. I love them to my very sole/soul. And listen here shoe divas with your stilettos and killer calves, it’s sad that you will never know the pedial joy of Croc flip flops.  I also love my Uggs. Both pairs. I give my Uggs huggs whenever I’m feeling blue. What can I say? I’m a sucker for comfort. Though I admit after witnessing ladies who rock their hot heels, I wonder if I should give more consideration to the image my shoes project? I’m just not convinced that foot fashion is worth the price of swollen, blistered, achy feet. While doing some serious sole searching (Literally. I can’t find my other Ugg slipper[…]

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