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Merry Frantic Christmas
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Merry…
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Tag!
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Clean Up In Aisle 5—Turning A Bad Day Around
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Don’t They Make Family Sized Bubbles (like the one from the movie “The Boy in the Plastic Bubble?”)
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A Message For My Friend
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Words…
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What? You want my autograph?
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MY BUCKET LIST…but not exactly
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Just Bitchin’

Merry Frantic Christmas

With the joy of the season, comes the frantic, hectic hell that is life for women everywhere this time of year. That doesn’t mean men don’t feel stressed during the holidays. Oh wait, yes it means exactly that, since Christmas is a WOMAN’S burden. “Burden” isn’t a very festive term I know. My husband would be more than happy to do anything I asked of him, but due to my sick need to control everything, the man is rarely asked to lift a finger. This black hole of shopping, list making, cooking, cleaning and wrapping despair, was dug by yours truly. So I need to shut up, suck it up and get on with it because… …the holidays are jam packed with “memory moments” and I don’t want to miss any of them. It’s cliché and obvious, but these times go by in a blink of an eye. Our children won’t remember if the boughs on the banister were perfectly hung or if the napkin rings at Christmas dinner all matched. They WILL remember dressing up like elves in the basement, skating on the backyard rink and putting on a “Christmas Musical Extravaganza” in the living room. This is what[…]

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Merry…

Yesterday in our son’s grade one class the teacher asked each child to share one special activity they enjoy over the holidays. Our son said, “We do that thing, you know, where you do it once every night before the holiday comes. I can’t remember what that thing is called.” “A menorah?” asked the teacher. “Yes.” He answered. “So you celebrate Hanukkah?” she asked him. “Yes. Yes we do,” he said. Oh holy Hosanna. The activity he was looking for was, opening a door of the advent calendar! “Do we celebrate Kwanzaa mummy?” he asked us later that day. “No hun, we don’t.” “Why?” he asked. “Well, we’re not from Africa,”I explained. “Do you hafta be from Africa?? Can’t we celebrate it anyway.” “Um. I guess we can.” *Mental note: buy some black, red and green candles… Merry Hanukwanzza everyone! 😉

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Tag!

I’ve been officially tagged and asked to answer a few get to know you questions. This is a welcome distraction from the pain of my ridiculous sneezing injury. You KNOW you’re getting old when you sneeze and throw your back out… In case you’ve never done this meme kinda thing, just remember to link to the person who tagged you, answer the same questions, and then tag five people to do the same. Have fun! And let me know if you do it. 1. Name someone with the same birthday as you. Dolly Parton. True story. 2. Where was your first kiss? In the bush. That is to say, the bushes, in the park near our house. I was ten. 3. Have you ever seriously vandalized someone else’s property? My guilty conscience would never allow that. Damn it because I think I would’ve made an excellent graffiti artist. 4. Have you ever hit someone of the opposite sex? My neighbour when I was seven. Made him bleed. He totally asked for it. 5. Have you ever sung in front of a large number of people? Unfortunately, yes. Hand me a karaoke microphone and all hell breaks loose. 6. What’s the first thing[…]

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Clean Up In Aisle 5—Turning A Bad Day Around

Today was just one of those days where you just feel like you’re going bananas. The kiddo getting up at 4:45 a.m. pretty much set the tone. We finally fell back to sleep, only to OVER-sleep and have to do the mad dash to get to school in time. And for some reason my hair today is so flat it looks spray painted on. I’m bloated, and cranky and feeling frumpy AF. Driving home in the rain post school drop off, I pulled up beside a car at a stop sign. I glanced over to see a man clinging to the steering wheel, crying. It startled me. What horrible event occurred in his life to cause him such grief? I’ve been thinking about him all day. I can’t stop.  After school I dragged myself out to buy a few groceries. I had a tired little kid with me so about two minutes in she started begging to ride in the cart. So I heaved her in. Thirty seconds later, she wanted out. So I hauled her back out. She was completely out of sorts so I caved and bought a bag of goldfish crackers for her to nibble while we shopped.[…]

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Don’t They Make Family Sized Bubbles (like the one from the movie “The Boy in the Plastic Bubble?”)

Flu season sucks. Flu season as a parent sucks even more. Flu season as a parent of a child with epilepsy and underlying neurological disorders with a potential deadly pandemic thrown in, sucks beyond words. I’m not even going to delve into the whole H1N1 situation. I can’t. If I do, my head may actually explode. Last year, our whole family got the seasonal flu shot. This year, we are not. Why? For starters, the scary accelerants and other assorted shit they put in those things leaves me feeling queasier than when I had that nasty case of gastroenteritis last year (yes, the same season I had a flu shot). Besides, it looks like my children already have the flu….which strain will remain unknown as doctors have stopped taking swabs. Apparently the labs can’t keep up with the cost and time required to test for H1N1 so, they don’t. But if it walks like a pig and oinks like a pig, chances are it’s Swine Flu. I am as confused as any other parent right now and really have no advice to offer other than this: If you DO plan to vaccinate your child this season, don’t make the mistakes[…]

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A Message For My Friend

  There are so many joyful things in life—a laugh between friends that leaves you breathless is one of them. I can always count on my friend Sarah for one of those laughs. I am thankful she is part of my life. She’s a friend, but also part of our family. Last week her dad died, suddenly and tragically, and way too soon. It’s heart wrenching to watch somebody you love having to face something so painful. Our family stayed with Sarah and her parents last summer in Nova Scotia. Her father Gene, was a warm and funny man. I called him “Gampy Gene.” After laughing hysterically, Sarah corrected me. It was “Grampy.” I liked the sound of Gampy better, so I stuck with it. Gene didn’t seem to mind. When my son heard that Gene had passed away, he was quiet. Then he said, “Gene showed me the deers in his yard. He’s the one who told me what ticks are. You hafta watch out for ticks.” He asked, “Is Sarah sad? Did she cry?” It’s funny how kids gauge the gravity of a situation by how upset adults are and if tears are involved. “Yes. She did.” I[…]

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Words…

The letter M isn’t very commanding on its own. An E flying solo has very little influence. But when united in a word, they become powerful. I’m aware that I talk more than the average person and I don’t even say half the things I’m thinking at any given moment. I suppose this is why I enjoy blogging–it’s like a shunt, releasing the pressure of the words in my head. Words are beautiful when crafted by someone with a kind heart. Words can soothe when spoken by a gentle soul. But, words wielded by the ignorant and tactless can leave behind a painful mark. Last week my daughter happily drew lines on a chalkboard in our doctor’s waiting room. A woman sitting beside me asked how old my girl is. When I told her, she said, “Awfully small for three isn’t she?” The response in my head was, “Well you’re awfully stupid for 60!” What I actually said was, “Yup. She’s our little girl.” As my daughter drew, she and I communicated using signs. The woman leaned over and asked, “Does she talk?” I explained that she has a speech delay, but is a proficient signer. This woman then told[…]

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What? You want my autograph?

Last month I had the opportunity to step out of my comfort zone (like, WAY out) and film a segment for YMC T.V. The “behind the scenes” blog is here (with a link to the video segment). If Erica had asked me to do this years ago, despite her Ninja mind tricks of persuasion, I would have flat out said, “NO FRICKEN WAY am I doing that!” But, after the recent upheavals and subsequent adjustments to the course my life has taken – I’m changed. Not dramatically. Not even detectable by most, but just enough to be able to embrace the cliche, “life is short.” Really it is. Think about how many opportunities we forgo because of discomfort or unfounded fears. I knew that there was a very strong possibility that I would fall on my face and look like a complete ass working in front of a camera. I did screw up a few times in fact and said “ok” way too much, but the world didn’t end. It turned out ok. Shit. Said it again. Don’t you hate when you latch onto a word and it becomes your security phrase when you’re nervous or tired or stunned? I’m[…]

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MY BUCKET LIST…but not exactly

  I love the idea of writing a bucket list – things you want to do before you kick the bucket. It’s not as easy as you’d think. I tried. I really did. But them I got frustrated and wrote a Fucket List of traits to nix before I kick the bucket. Here they are in no particular order: 1. Stop obsessing over how the weather is going to affect my hair and just go out into the elements and live my life. Do animals give a shit what their fur is doing? No. Humans are stupid. It’s only hair! 2. Stop feeling guilty about every little thing. I’m not even Catholic. 3. Quit worrying about my car, my house, my clothes. Material things DO NOT matter. I know this, I just need to believe it. 4. Stop trying to control everything (people, schedules, household tasks, life) all the time. 5. Seeking the approval of others is pointless. Suck it up ya sensitive pansy and just get on with it. 6. Envy is ugly. So what if she’s a better writer, or he’s wittier or she’s thinner or more in shape or more successful or….fucket. Does it matter? 7. As[…]

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Just Bitchin’

I’m a bitch, I’m a lover, I’m a child, I’m a mother ~ Meredith Brooks I’m pretty even-keeled most of time. I never yell and rarely pitch a fit. I’m generally easy going, unless I’m over-tired. Or super hungry. Throw in a few hormonal spikes and I can be… unpleasant.  At first I get quiet. Which is abnormal. Eerie even. This is a warning sign. Then comes that hyper, giddy, everything is hilarious, burst of energy you have before you crash and that, right there, is when I can become a bit of a bitch. And who is in my line of fire? Surely not my children. They’re too young and innocent to face my wrath full force. No. It’s my closest friend. My soul mate. The one who is legally bound to me until death do we part. Here are the ten things he does to drive me over the edge. Poor man, but he knew what he was in for when he married me.  1. Slurping any liquid. He’s doing it right now as I’m writing this. It’s all I can do not to wrestle that mug away from his grasp and bash him over the head with[…]

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