Live in the Sunshine

Hot on the tail of a Costco sized jar of dill pickles....

2012-01-26T06:29:00.000-05:00

After naps, before snack time. The wee dude is HUNGRY y'all!

Do you also love that instead of getting him out of the fridge safely I chose to find my phone and snap a picture? And that I let him have pickles for a snack? Like, 4 pickles. The kid was double fisted.

Don't judge me.

At least he wasn't going for a beer.

Yet.

"Motherhood. You're doing it wrong."

Tee Hee.

An interesting take........

2012-01-13T06:46:00.000-05:00

...on the Jesus and religion....I find this riveting, raw and honest....

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1IAhDGYlpqY&feature=share

What do you think?

Happy Birthday Ayson!

2011-12-21T09:34:00.002-05:00

My wee man is 2 today!

This is my blog post from one year ago today.

It's still a miracle to me.

If you need a little Christmas...I hope this brings it to you....

Happy birthday baby boy. You're the closet to heaven that I've ever been.....

December 21st. Today. The winter solstice. The longest, darkest day of the year. Or, it used to be, anyway.

One year ago today, I was offering up indecent favours to anyone who’d listen at Grand River hospital in exchange for an epidural.

This was NOT how it was supposed to go down you guys. More on that momentarily.

7 years ago today I was furious with God and hysterical in the parking lot of Royal Victoria hospital in Barrie. After a 4 month battle with bone cancer, my mother had died. I hated Christmas.

Back to almost present day. While I was pregnant I had BIG plans the birth of our son. There would be no drugs. There would be dim lights, a calm room and no crying. There would be no inducing. There would absolutely, under NO circumstances be a C-section. I briefly considered having our baby at home until my husband intervened.

December 7th, 2009. My due date, I waited patiently. Okay, not patiently, but I waited. One week after that (still no baby) my wonderful doctor and I decided we had to discuss induction. She said, “How’s December 21st at 7:00am?”

That day, being burnt into my memory as the worst of my life made me blurt without any thought, “That’s the day my mother died.”

“Oh…well…we can switch it to another day then. ” She said gently.

“No, actually..I’m going to take that as a sign from above and stick with that date if you don’t mind.” I replied, knowing it was exactly as it should be.

My mother loved Christmas. We adored my mother. I had honestly come to terms with the fact that I’d never truly have another perfect “Merry Christmas,” in my life because it’s hard to be festive when you are remembering the violent ways cancer can rip apart a family. This predetermined birthday for our son was a sign from my Mama to change the holidays back into a time of joy and newness from the loss and sadness we had all suffered through over the past 6 years.

December 21st, 2009. Todd and I are up early and anxious and excited. Off we go to the hospital to meet our son. But first, we had to meet Pitocin. The devil’s candy. Made to bring on labour. They hooked me up to this stuff around 8am and at 9am Todd went to grab food from the cafeteria (on a great tip from our angel nurses) knowing we’d both be ravenous later. By 10am all my granolahead plans of tranquility and a peaceful drug free birth were gone. When my husband returned from his food run, I was hanging onto the side of the bed, quite literally begging for relief. Many of you know Pitocin makes you have one, long, painful constant contraction with no breaks to breathe or have a clear thought in your head.

I get the epidural. All is right with the world. I labour for 10 hours. Todd is by my side. We both doze and wait for baby boy. At one point Todd says to me, “I have the Sargent Pepper Beatles album running through my mind. Like, over and over. I don’t even like that album.”

You know who DID like that album? My mother. She loved anything even remotely related to the Beatles. Even Yoko. I know, right?? Interesting. “Hey Mama…thanks for the sign(s)…” I think in my hazy, drugged up state. I pray for strength, guidance and maybe, if she could give me another sign. Just so I KNOW she’s here. One more. I’m getting greedy, I know. But when you’re in labour. All you want is your Mom. And, in my case, drugs.

More time passes. I see our nurse watching charts and concern on her face. She goes to get the doctor. He explains to me that I’ve gone from being 8 centimetres dilated back to 6 and that the baby’s head is doing a number on my cervix…(I know! TMI..I warned you in the title….) and that we should go ahead with a c-section. I bawl. I get crazy emotional and try to just let it go and know that all that matters is that tonight, on this day my mother picked for us, we get a healthy baby. But I cannot stop crying.

They round up the surgical team. A new nurse comes into the room. I am still crying, emotional, overwhelmed. The old nurse explains to the new one that today is the anniversary of my mother’s death and that I’m a little overwhelmed.

New nurse takes my hand and asks, “What was your Mom’s name?”

“Barbara,” I reply.

“That’s MY name!” She says with a smile and a wink.

Sign number 3. You are here. Thanks Mom. I’ve never needed you more. Well, except the day you had me, I guess. I needed you a lot then too. And a billion other times over the years. Thankyouthankyouthankyou. Now, I can do this. The tears stop. I feel peaceful and ready. And thirsty. I had never been that thirsty. No water for those who are about to go under the knife as they’re afraid there maybe barfing in the OR. I try to explain to them that if I’m awake and they’re cutting into my body, they may be barfing anyway. No luck. Still no water.

Okay.

9:19 p.m. Ayson Todd Nutbrown comes out into this big badass, terrifyingly wonderful and sometimes painful world. No screaming. Just one little wee yelp from his almost 9 pound exquisite little self. Todd shows him to me. I smile. We smile. I’ve never loved anything more than I love these two people right this minute. I say, “Now, for the love of God, can I please have some water?!” They laugh.

Back in the room I stare at him. I touch him. I trace his little lips. I nurse him. He snuggles into me. I explain I have absolutely no idea what the hell I’m doing. He assures me that we’ll figure it out. I can’t sleep. He does. I stare some more. His ears are small and velvety. His little hands are like perfect stars. Finally his Dad takes him from me, places him in the bassinet and begs me to try to sleep. I do, peacefully for a few hours. When I wake up and I’m so full of the urge to have him back into my arms I can barely stand it. I miss him when he is sleeping 3 feet from me. I’m someone’s mother. Are we sure this is right? I’m not qualified.

Christmas eve I explain to the staff at Grand River hospital that come hell or high water, (one of mama Barb’s fav. expressions) I. Am. Taking. This. Baby. Home. Today. They graciously concur. We go home. My Daddy meets us in the driveway. He looks at his first Grandson. He looks to the skies and silently thanks the love of his life for delivering us from evil. From sad memories. For making us happy and comfortable because we KNOW she is with us.

And you know what happened next? We had a perfect Christmas. The next morning, we all woke to the sweet sounds of baby coos and cries and gave him a bath. He hated it. We opened presents at 4:30pm and ate dinner at 9pm. There I was. Surrounded by the 2 best men I’ve ever known, safe in my pretty little house with a tiny new person to try to figure out. (Still trying to figure out, FYI.) My world was quiet and perfect. For the first time in 6 years that cold, dark hole in my soul felt full. It wasn’t gone. But the dull ache had subsided.

So, there it is. That’s the story. My mother turned the worst day of my life, into the best day of my life. She reached beyond the heavens to give her daughter some Peace and healing. You can call it whatever you want. I will always insist it was a Christmas miracle.

Happy birthday my perfect little prince. I love you more than I ever know possible. You are the best thing that’s ever been mine. (Shout out’s to Taylor Swift for that line.)

Thanks Mom. For everything. I’ve looked into you grandson’s eyes a hundred times this year and realized that you did the same with me a long, long time ago. You whispered your dreams for me into my tiny baby ears the way I do to him now. As promised, you are always here for me. And now, for us. I love you.

There are only two ways to live your life. One is as though nothing is a miracle. The other is as though everything is a miracle.” ~Albert Einstein~

How To Talk To Little Girls.....

2011-12-15T09:05:00.000-05:00

I'm guilty.

Guilty of saying to little girls, "oh you're so pretty!" or "what a pretty dress!" or "you have the nicest hair!"

That stops now. Not that we cannot compliment them...but why is it always their appearance that's the first thing we notice and mention?

That picture is my stepdaughter Ryleigh on the right and her friend Maddie. There's no denying they're gorgeous. But who cares? Ryleigh donates her Christmas money to families in developing countries so they can build farms, schools and homes. She has 2 two year old brothers (her mama and I both had baby boys 4 months apart) and I've never ONCE heard her complain about them....and we all know sometimes 2 year old boys are all kinds of annoying. She sings, she dances, she's always smiling and she makes people laugh their faces off. Maddie is an expert equestrian, plays more sports than I can count, insists on wearing rainbows everyday, takes piles of crap (and love) from her big sisters like a champ, helps out with a brand new baby brother and when she and her Mama (my sister by choice :-) have sleep over at our house, Maddie is the first one outta bed early Saturday morning to get my little boy, feed him breakfast and inspire gales of little boy laughter.

So I hereby vow to always encourage them to keep adding to that list of glorious accomplishments and stop focusing on their looks.

We should be doing THIS:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UZimx1wHYcs

The new thing I learned today:

"How to talk to little girls....."

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/lisa-bloom/how-to-talk-to-little-gir_b_882510.html

Isn't she lovely......

2011-11-26T13:34:00.001-05:00

http://www.mirror.co.uk/news/top-stories/2011/11/16/prince-william-and-kate-middleton-engagement-a-year-on-top-10-moments-of-the-duchess-of-cambridge-s-first-year-in-the-spotlight-115875-23566852/

Shut. Up.

2011-11-25T07:03:00.000-05:00

Does anybody else wanna eat an entire casserole dish ~~or 3~~ of this?

http://thepioneerwoman.com/cooking/2010/11/green-bean-casserole/

Anybody? Show of hands?

Be. Still. My. Starving. Heart.

Remembrance Day

2011-11-11T06:05:00.000-05:00

I saw this on Facebook this morning. What a profound reminder it was to always honour those who have fought and are still fighting for our freedom. They and their families make sacrifices I cannot even imagine. I am humbled and beyond grateful for your service.

Today and everyday when I encounter a member of the military, I will thank them and promise to never, ever forget.....

"Courage is almost a contradiction in terms. It means a strong desire to live taking the form of readiness to die." ~G.K. Chesterton~

This is what happens when you....

2011-11-01T06:50:00.000-04:00

....leave your almost 2 year old alone for 11 seconds while you go gather up his Trick or Treat gear. I know, I know, I'm new obviously.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=n_Sb3n4y65c

I work for a radio staion and......

2011-10-26T07:21:00.000-04:00

...with a bunch of crazy people. Of course, radio is fun. It's an amazing gig. I am blessed to love my job. I do the morning show, which means I am up at the crack of stupid. That is why in the following video I look like ass. It's 4am. There is no hair and or makeup efforts at 4am mostly because it's 4am. I'm lucky to just be upright. Here's what our promo team did to us last week mostly because they are asshats. Enjoy:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FHqjv4ZmvJc&feature=youtu.be

Perspective...

2011-10-12T09:00:00.000-04:00

We are responsible for our own happiness....

2011-10-07T06:37:00.000-04:00

“The purpose that you wish to find in life, like a cure you seek, is not going to fall from the sky. ... I believe purpose is something for which one is responsible; it's not just divinely assigned.”

~Michael J. Fox~

Love makes love, hate makes hate....

2011-09-23T08:21:00.002-04:00

Wouldn't you give anything to make sure this never happens again?

http://cnews.canoe.ca/CNEWS/Canada/2011/09/23/18727756.html

You should read this to get the full impact of the tragedy. Here's the short version for those of you who don't.

Eleven year old Mitchell Wilson loses his mother to cancer three years ago, then is diagnosed with MS, accepts the diagnosis with fight and bravery, is then mugged, abused and bullied so intensely he takes his own little life. Eleven. He was ELEVEN. Nobody should know pain like that at eleven. Nobody should know pain like that, ever. But that's the cruel mystery of this big, bad, beautiful world. There's never an understandable reason why some of us laugh and some of us cry. It never makes any sense.

To say my heart aches or breaks for this kid isn't enough. To say I cannot understand how his broken father will ever be able to smile again doesn't give the grief he must constantly struggle with enough validity. I feel silly typing those things because I don't understand them and it seems ridiculous to even try to. We never truly know the sadness or burdens someone else can carry. We don't get it because we haven't been there.

So what do we do? Because we MUST do something....

It's natural to feel hate for the bullies. I have a bunch of it in my belly and at the back of my throat right now. How could they treat a boy whose mother was gone and who was sick and trying to kick that sicknesses ass with such cruelty? How could they not FEEL something when they smashed his face into the pavement? How could not ONE of them step the hell up and say this is all kinds of wrong and I don't wanna be this person? My husband is a social worker who works with troubled youth. He tried to offer explanations. I put down my judgement and listened. This is what I learned:

Troubled, quite often, can be translated into tortured. The agony that these babies have suffered at the hands of their parents is unspeakable. Unimaginable. Bullies are raised by bullies. They have no empathy or heart because their parents treat them like shit. They've never been offered love or encouragement and are repeating the behaviour that has been modelled to them. Bullying is a learned trait. Someone has created their cruelty. Someone has fostered and taught them to hate. They have nobody instilling confidence or injecting happiness into their sad little hearts. It's disgusting. And when they act out with the behaviour that they've learned and we try to "go talk to their parents," nothing happens. Because it's a big fat ugly cycle. Their parents, who were most likey abused and neglected, do not care. No one ever showed them how to. And now, they don't care enough to love their own kid. How could they care enough to love yours and help stop the bullying? I won't regale you with any of the incomprehensible tales of neglect and abuse my husband has seen firsthand, mostly because I won't be able to finish this post through my tears. And neither will you. These babies have had hate, anger and fists poured into them and that's why they bully. They can't carry it all alone. So they pass it on to weaker beings. It's all they know.

So again, what do we do? We can't fix other people's disgusting parenting habits. We can't make anyone put down the booze or crack or heartache and give their babies attention. Get them to read to them or feed them or acknowledge them in any way. We can take these little broken babies away from them but often by that time the damage has been done and is close to impossible to reverse. We can offer and force parenting programs, rehab programs, help and assistance in many forms...but we all know, unless a person really wants to change or do better....they won't.

What do we do?

We love our kids so intensely that that love spills out to everyone. They pass it on in their spirits and smiles to people all around them. Even bullies. We insist that they intervene when they see someone being mistreated. We teach this lesson as vehemently as we do looking both ways before you cross the street and never playing with fire. We tell them again and again that everyone has a story and they aren't all good. We ask them with our whole hearts to be better than good to others. That it is positively unacceptable to treat anyone with any less respect that they want for themselves. That we will take away their video games, their swimming pools, their after school snacks and anything else that has any value to them in any way if we ever see or hear of them intentionally causing any kind of pain to any of their peers, ever. We ask our babies to go the the kid who is being bullied and lead them away, right away. To stand up for his or her or if they're afraid for themselves to go find someone who will help. We tell our kids to round up their friends and surround the bullied child with a group bigger than the bullies. Power in numbers.

We tell our children to be the person who offers the bully a kind word, a sandwich, a hug or an opportunity to come into your home where love abounds and praise is plentiful. We take those ignored and torn little souls into our arms and give them something to believe in. We feed them, we listen to them we try to show them that some adults can be trusted and relied on. A reason to know that they are better than the circumstances they've been given. That's what we do.

It takes a village...right? When they know better, they'll do better.

If we are happy and not in the group of human beings who is suffering through something terrible, we owe it to the universe to spread the joy. We simply mustn't let the pain spread farther than the love.

Rest peacefully little Mitchell. The only light in this story is that now you are back in your Mama's heavenly arms where you'll be drenched in the love you didn't get here on earth.

"Service to others is the rent you pay for your room here on earth." ~Muhammed Ali

Please allow me....

2011-09-21T08:27:00.001-04:00

...to share with you the very reason my heart even beats:

If anyone has any advice on how I can resist those blue eyes and not just stare into them all the live long day and pray that he stays this innocent and beautiful and sweet and bad and hilarious and positively perfect in every way and never ever ever love anything more than he loves his mama, I’d appreciate it.

Tough guy?

2011-09-01T06:30:00.003-04:00

My hubz is a big dude. People ask to arm wrestle him a lot. They would lose and they know it, hence the hilarity. He bench presses over 500 pounds, works out for 2 hours a day and can lift fridges, washing machines and small automobiles by himself. His biceps are bigger than my face. Not kidding. Exhibit A:

See? Bigger than my face. But not my ass, unfortunately. Ahem....sorry....

Anyramble.....

These are two little baby mice who showed up in our porch yesterday:

Guess who had to round the dirty little creatures up and release them while she cooked 2 nights worth of dinners and corralled a half crazy almost 2 year old?

Yeah, NOT the tough guy, that's who.

He did however go out and purchase traps in case the super spooky baby mice return.

Later that night we watched this:

If you're not familiar, these dudes catch alligators. Using rotten chicken. With their bare hands. In the dark.

Hubz insisted he would kick the shit outta this gig.

Mmmm Hmmmmm. Yup. You sure would.

Now pardon me while I go check the mousetraps, Pansy.

PS..there was another incident this past weekend that involved ME catching toads for our son while his father cowered in the house like a little girl.....but that's another story.

Duh.

2011-08-22T07:57:00.000-04:00

More moments of marital bliss from my beloved.....

http://goodcrazymostly.blogspot.com/2011/08/duh.html

Don't fret Mamas...just be. Your kids are fine and so are you.

2011-07-28T05:29:00.000-04:00

Love.
http://bentownefoundation.org/2011/01/battle-hymn-of-a-bereaved-mother/

I have been lazy with my blogging.....

2011-07-22T08:51:00.003-04:00

.....but there's a VERY good reason....I was busy hanging out with the Duchess of Cambridge and such.
Yes, I took this photo. Story and details to follow. It's too damn hot to type.
Happy Friday!

Thanks for the reminder....

2011-06-28T06:48:00.000-04:00

http://www.worldsworstmoms.com/2011/05/whos-boss.html

Great post.

Reminds me of this:

"When your child walks in the room, does your face light up?”
When my children used to walk in the room, when they were little, I looked at them to see if they had buckled their trousers or if their hair was combed or if their socks were up. You think your affection and your deep love is on display because you’re caring for them. It’s not. When they see you, they see the critical face. But if you let your face speak what’s in your heart…because when they walked in the room, I was glad to see them. It’s just as small as that, you see.”

~Toni Morrison~

RE: Vancouver Riots

2011-06-17T07:00:00.001-04:00

I ALMOST feel bad for these losers. Only if you have no sense of pride in yourself and your community could you behave like this. They must be unemployed because if you had a job you loved and were proud of you’d be afraid to lose it and never destroy your reputation and the property of others. If you had parents who you respected and… repected you, you’d be ashamed to let them see you as a criminal. If you had children you adored and loved you’d be passionate about setting a good example and leading them to live a happy, peaceful life. These people are clearly a bunch of depressed, unloved and uninspired human beings who find their only joy in destruction and chaos.

I mean, really. Don’t theses goofs look happy to you?

I hope their time in prison brings them reflection and embarrassment and that they’re not abused in the way they abused the fine city of Vancouver.

Karma is a bitch. Play nice kids.

Twice this week....I made you go here...but it's worth it.

2011-06-15T07:06:00.000-04:00

More from my man's mouth....

http://goodcrazymostly.blogspot.com/2011/06/i-feel-shame.html

Have y'all met my hubz?

2011-06-09T07:56:00.002-04:00

This is my other blog highlighting his insanity.

Enjoy and in turn, question MY sanity for marrying the doofus. I mean that in the nicest possible way. Sort of.

http://goodcrazymostly.blogspot.com/2011/06/there-are-no-words.html

Ma Kitchen be Bitchin'

2011-05-30T08:06:00.001-04:00

I'm not gonna lie to you. I made these this weekend and they were pretty much the best thing I’ve ever invented. Yes. You heard me right…..I made this recipe up. Myself. In my own brains. Call the Food Network. Chef Boy-R-Dee whoooo? Okay. Here’s the divine recipe because I love y’all and recipes are meant to be shared (say all the people who want other people’s secret recipes.)

PS….it’s also easy. And did I mention they’re AMAZEBALLS and I invented them? I did? Okay, cool.

Grilled Cilantro Margarita Sugar Shrimp:

(DISCLAIMER: It should be noted I don’t measure anything, ever and I guesstimated ingredient amounts to make it look like I knew what the hell I was doing. I did not, FYI. Also, this is a picture I stole from the internet of someone else’s grilled cilantro shrimp thingamahoo’s as I had consumed 2 glasses 5 and a half glasses of wine and neglected to take a picture of my own. This is almost exactly what they looked like, only with worse lighting, swearzies. Keep reading. Thanks internetz.)

Just get to the recipe, right? I hear ya.

*Ahem*

2 pounds large grilling shrimp

1/2 bunch chopped cilantro

Juice of 2-3 limes (I like ’er limey)

1/2 cup brown sugar

2 tablespoons of olive oil

Lotsa shakes of tabasco or Franks Red Hot ..whatever makes your skirt fly up. Or none if your boring like that. Pansy.

Throw eveything in a large Ziploc bag and stick ‘em in the fridge for a few hours. Or, if you are flighty and or drank too many glasses of wine like someone we all know and tolerate and forget to cook them with Saturday night’s dinner, just marinate them all night long and have them with Sunday brunch. Don’t judge.

IMPORTANT: Grill ONLY until the shrimp turns pink. As soon as they do, remove them from the grill and serve. You know what I always say, “Overcooked seafood is sad, tragic and completely unnecessary!!” Okay, I don’t really always say that but it’s true. Trust.

Serve with nothing. Well, a Margarita wouldn’t hurt, but in terms of any other food items…don’t do it. For realz. They are that good. Your side dishes will pale in comparison.

My kitchen be bitchin’ y’all.

Pretty much the sweetest thing ever.....

2011-05-19T05:29:00.002-04:00

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pnVAE91E7kM

I find this both.....

2011-05-16T05:27:00.002-04:00

.....hystercial and disgusting. I cannot stop laughing and have watched it no less than 56 times this weekend while the germaphobe OCD freak inside me is hyperventilating.

"I gots a SQUEAL!!!"

"babysweetbabysweetbabysweet.."

Ohhhh Jeepers.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9Nn0UkdDArM

Hey Mommies! Go here, read this, laugh your face off and feel NO guilt.

2011-05-12T06:51:00.000-04:00

DISCLAIMER: If you're a Mommy friend who finds this offensive. Sorry. Okay, I'm actually not really sorry. Lighten up. You don't REALLY read it to your kids Suzy Squarepants.

https://www.facebook.com/#!/media/set/?set=a.2047409301747.2124118.1139862054

Quite possibly the worst news ever.

2011-05-11T20:41:00.000-04:00

This sucks. Now, I cry.

http://news.maars.net/blog/2011/04/15/the-dish-pad-thai-worse-for-your-waist-than-four-mcburgers/

PS....I'm still gonna eat it.

Keep Calm....

2011-04-28T08:01:00.002-04:00

You should.....

2011-04-20T05:36:00.000-04:00

....read this:

and you should watch this:

Thank you for your attention to these matters.

Sooooooooo...

2011-04-14T06:10:00.001-04:00

.....I married a funny guy. He's kind of inappropriate. ~~He clearly didn't get enough hugs as a child.~~ He's super weird. But who am I to judge? All I know is he's good for laughs. Everyone who knows us was encouraging me to write the crazy sh#t that flows from his twisted mind and mouth down. And I ~~almost never~~ always do what I'm told. So, here you are. Enjoy the crazy you guys.

http://goodcrazymostly.blogspot.com/

SobLoveSob

2011-04-05T08:25:00.002-04:00

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3symtHjQLNw&feature=player_embedded

It's funny 'cause it's true.

2011-04-04T07:46:00.000-04:00

http://www.suburbansnapshots.com/2010/06/10-reasons-having-toddler-is-like-being.html

Here's a Tip....

2011-03-17T06:45:00.000-04:00

.......if you're going to be inappropriate and creepy and give someone the head to toe once over whilst that person is waiting at the office printer you may want to wait unitl the printer person isn't looking directly at you. You're 40something. Your oogling skills should be perfected by now.
PS..You're married. Lucky lady.
PSS.. all the girls gossip about your creepiness in the bathroom. None of the oogling is reciprocated. Take the hint. Creep.

These are 2 of my favourite things...

2011-03-14T06:31:00.000-04:00

Best. Lipgloss. Ever. I should know. I have no less than 10 different brands of lipgloss in my purse right now. I hate lipstick. I hate sticky lipgloss. I mostly differ to chapstick because I am all that is glamorous. Ha! I lol-ed at that. For real. A friend gave this to me on my birthday as one of her favourite things. She was right. It's rocks. It's called "ample pink." Lovelovelove.

I ate 2 of these on the weekend. Don't judge. I'm not normally a dark choclolate fan..but this changed my ~~life~~ mind.
Without this chocolate....I should wish to perish. I know that's dramatic. It's also true.

Happy Monday kids.

I agree. I disagree. I agree?

2011-03-07T06:52:00.000-05:00

http://www.nationalpost.com/Parenting+happy+face+just+study/4380607/story.html?dlvrit=103787

Yes, they are PRICEY. That's why I waited until my 30's to have one. And I never completely understood how it felt to love someone so deeply and simulatneously want to throw them down the stairs until I had my son. But I can honestly say, over the past 14 months, not once have I ever looked at him and not felt overwhelmingly grateful and oh so happy to be his Mama. :-)

This pleases me greatly. spokeninmybestBritishaccent

2011-03-03T08:08:00.003-05:00

http://www.officialroyalwedding2011.org/tag/homepage/page/1

Window Love.

2011-02-28T05:22:00.000-05:00

Sunday afternoon. BFF's. Watching the world. Which, on our sleepy street would mean 1 car an hour driving by or a dude walking his dog. Be still my beating heart.

Je T'aime......

2011-02-22T08:04:00.000-05:00

Ohhhh Emmmm Geeeeee I love this pantry/wine cooler/dog feeding/station/calendar area.

Want. Need. Swoon.

Conversing with an almost 14 month old boy.....

2011-02-16T08:12:00.002-05:00

Me: "Ayson you're the cutest!"

Ace: "No, ducks."

Me: "No, AYSON'S the cutest!"

Ace: "No, Dada."

Me: "I'm pretty sure YOU are the CUTEST!"

Ace: *proceeds to burp in my face*

Me: "Okay then, you're the grossest!"

Ace: *Hahahahahahahahha!!"

So what?

2011-02-08T07:20:00.002-05:00

"All mothers are slightly insane." - J.D. Salinger

Wishes....

2011-02-02T05:00:00.002-05:00

"May today bring you peace within. May you trust that you are exactly where you are meant to be. May you not forget the infinite possibilities that are both of faith in yourself and others. May you use the gifts that you have received, and pass on the love that has been given to you. May you be content with yourself just the way you are. Let this knowledge settle into your bones, and allow your soul the freedom to sing, dance, praise, and love. It is there for each and every one of us."

Eh. Men.

2011-02-01T05:43:00.002-05:00

Do all the energy vampires, complainers, victims in your life a favour and forward this to them. Better yet, remove yourself from their angst, let them own it and choose to deal (or not) and understand your time and energy are your precious commodities and will not be wasted.

"One day, you could wake up & realize that everything in life you’ve ever wanted is within your grasp. That happiness isn’t dependent on people, things or geography. It’s not about the car you drive or the money in the bank. It’s completely terrifying to think that you’re the one who controls how you journey through life, because it’s easier to blame other people for the shit that rolls down your hill. Life’s pretty shitty when you finally realize you’re accountable for your actions & when you step up to slap others for their potential missteps, that you’d best have slapped yourself first. Each day, you could commit to compassion & try to help someone new or you could just push along in your every-man-for-himself routine and step on as many as you can on the way to the top."

http://www.redheadwriting.com/a-very-bad-example

FINALLY! No, really, FINALLY!!

2011-01-25T06:02:00.000-05:00

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6AdFdmE9A84

I'll be reading this every morning.....

2011-01-24T06:17:00.000-05:00

Actually, to get it to stick in my brains, I may need to read it at lunch and dinner too. And before bed.

"To live content with small means; to seek elegance rather than luxury, and refinement rather than fashion; to be worthy, not respectable, and wealthy, not rich; to listen to stars and birds, babes and sages, with open heart; to study hard; to think quietly, act frankly, talk gently, await occasions, hurry never; in a word, to let the spiritual, unbidden and unconscious, grow up through the common--this is my symphony."

~William Henry Channing ~

Isn't that pretty and perfect? I mean, NOTHING like my real life (in terms of the quiet thinking and not hurrying and all) but a goal to reach for, for sure.

Scratch just reading it 3 times a day. I'm gonna need to tattoo it on my arm or something.

Have a peachy Monday bloggerworld.

Is anyone else....

2011-01-18T08:21:00.000-05:00

....afraid of Tilda Swinton?

I don't get her.

Ya Gotta Have Faith.....

2010-12-21T06:55:00.001-05:00

December 21st. Today. The winter solstice. The longest, darkest day of the year. Or, it used to be, anyway.

One year ago today, I was offering up indecent favours to anyone who’d listen at Grand River hospital in exchange for an epidural.

This was NOT how it was supposed to go down you guys. More on that momentarily.

7 years ago today I was furious with God and hysterical in the parking lot of Royal Victoria hospital in Barrie. After a 4 month battle with bone cancer, my mother had died. I hated Christmas.

Back to almost present day. While I was pregnant I had BIG plans the birth of our son. There would be no drugs. There would be dim lights, a calm room and no crying. There would be no inducing. There would absolutely, under NO circumstances be a C-section. I briefly considered having our baby at home until my husband intervened.

December 7th, 2009. My due date, I waited patiently. Okay, not patiently, but I waited. One week after that (still no baby) my wonderful doctor and I decided we had to discuss induction. She said, “How’s December 21st at 7:00am?”

That day, being burnt into my memory as the worst of my life made me blurt without any thought, “That’s the day my mother died.”

“Oh…well…we can switch it to another day then. ” She said gently.

“No, actually..I’m going to take that as a sign from above and stick with that date if you don’t mind.” I replied, knowing it was exactly as it should be.

My mother loved Christmas. We adored my mother. I had honestly come to terms with the fact that I’d never truly have another perfect “Merry Christmas,” in my life because it’s hard to be festive when you are remembering the violent ways cancer can rip apart a family. This predetermined birthday for our son was a sign from my Mama to change the holidays back into a time of joy and newness from the loss and sadness we had all suffered through over the past 6 years.

December 21st, 2009. Todd and I are up early and anxious and excited. Off we go to the hospital to meet our son. But first, we had to meet Pitocin. The devil’s candy. Made to bring on labour. They hooked me up to this stuff around 8am and at 9am Todd went to grab food from the cafeteria (on a great tip from our angel nurses) knowing we’d both be ravenous later. By 10am all my granolahead plans of tranquility and a peaceful drug free birth were gone. When my husband returned from his food run, I was hanging onto the side of the bed, quite literally begging for relief. Many of you know Pitocin makes you have one, long, painful constant contraction with no breaks to breathe or have a clear thought in your head.

I get the epidural. All is right with the world. I labour for 10 hours. Todd is by my side. We both doze and wait for baby boy. At one point Todd says to me, “I have the Sargent Pepper Beatles album running through my mind. Like, over and over. I don’t even like that album.”

You know who DID like that album? My mother. She loved anything even remotely related to the Beatles. Even Yoko. I know, right?? Interesting. “Hey Mama…thanks for the sign(s)…” I think in my hazy, drugged up state. I pray for strength, guidance and maybe, if she could give me another sign. Just so I KNOW she’s here. One more. I’m getting greedy, I know. But when you’re in labour. All you want is your Mom. And, in my case, drugs.

More time passes. I see our nurse watching charts and concern on her face. She goes to get the doctor. He explains to me that I’ve gone from being 8 centimetres dilated back to 6 and that the baby’s head is doing a number on my cervix…(I know! TMI..I warned you in the title….) and that we should go ahead with a c-section. I bawl. I get crazy emotional and try to just let it go and know that all that matters is that tonight, on this day my mother picked for us, we get a healthy baby. But I cannot stop crying.

They round up the surgical team. A new nurse comes into the room. I am still crying, emotional, overwhelmed. The old nurse explains to the new one that today is the anniversary of my mother’s death and that I’m a little overwhelmed.

New nurse takes my hand and asks, “What was your Mom’s name?”

“Barbara,” I reply.

“That’s MY name!” She says with a smile and a wink.

Sign number 3. You are here. Thanks Mom. I’ve never needed you more. Well, except the day you had me, I guess. I needed you a lot then too. And a billion other times over the years. Thankyouthankyouthankyou. Now, I can do this. The tears stop. I feel peaceful and ready. And thirsty. I had never been that thirsty. No water for those who are about to go under the knife as they’re afraid there maybe barfing in the OR. I try to explain to them that if I’m awake and they’re cutting into my body, they may be barfing anyway. No luck. Still no water.

Okay.

9:19 p.m. Ayson Todd Nutbrown comes out into this big badass, terrifyingly wonderful and sometimes painful world. No screaming. Just one little wee yelp from his almost 9 pound exquisite little self. Todd shows him to me. I smile. We smile. I’ve never loved anything more than I love these two people right this minute. I say, “Now, for the love of God, can I please have some water?!” They laugh.

Back in the room I stare at him. I touch him. I trace his little lips. I nurse him. He snuggles into me. I explain I have absolutely no idea what the hell I’m doing. He assures me that we’ll figure it out. I can’t sleep. He does. I stare some more. His ears are small and velvety. His little hands are like perfect stars. Finally his Dad takes him from me, places him in the bassinet and begs me to try to sleep. I do, peacefully for a few hours. When I wake up and I’m so full of the urge to have him back into my arms I can barely stand it. I miss him when he is sleeping 3 feet from me. I’m someone’s mother. Are we sure this is right? I’m not qualified.

Christmas eve I explain to the staff at Grand River hospital that come hell or high water, (one of mama Barb’s fav. expressions) I. Am. Taking. This. Baby. Home. Today. They graciously concur. We go home. My Daddy meets us in the driveway. He looks at his first Grandson. He looks to the skies and silently thanks the love of his life for delivering us from evil. From sad memories. For making us happy and comfortable because we KNOW she is with us.

And you know what happened next? We had a perfect Christmas. The next morning, we all woke to the sweet sounds of baby coos and cries and gave him a bath. He hated it. We opened presents at 4:30pm and ate dinner at 9pm. There I was. Surrounded by the 2 best men I’ve ever known, safe in my pretty little house with a tiny new person to try to figure out. (Still trying to figure out, FYI.) My world was quiet and perfect. For the first time in 6 years that cold, dark hole in my soul felt full. It wasn’t gone. But the dull ache had subsided.

So, there it is. That’s the story. My mother turned the worst day of my life, into the best day of my life. She reached beyond the heavens to give her daughter some Peace and healing. You can call it whatever you want. I will always insist it was a Christmas miracle.

Happy birthday my perfect little prince. I love you more than I ever know possible. You are the best thing that’s ever been mine. (Shout out’s to Taylor Swift for that line.)

Thanks Mom. For everything. I’ve looked into you grandson’s eyes a hundred times this year and realized that you did the same with me a long, long time ago. You whispered your dreams for me into my tiny baby ears the way I do to him now. As promised, you are always here for me. And now, for us. I love you.

”There are only two ways to live your life. One is as though nothing is a miracle. The other is as though everything is a miracle.” ~Albert Einstein~

Go ahead. Swoon away.

2010-12-07T07:02:00.002-05:00

Merry, Merry everyone!

Who's winning? And why are we keeping score??

2010-12-01T06:48:00.002-05:00

I recently stumbled across a parenting blog that made me ~~shout "you've GOT to be effing kidding me"~~ roll my eyes at the computer.

Let's discuss, shall we?

This is an open letter to Stepford Mommies everywhere.

Dear Little Miss "I'm the best mommy in the history of wombs and other lady parts,"

If you are going to write about parenting, for the love of all that is good and holy, PLEASE, be honest. Don't create a running list of your perfect Mommying skills with undertones of how we should all be envious of your grasp on cooking, cleaning, minding your children, minding other people's children and NOT minding your own damn business. Because really, you blogging for all the world to see that "YOU. ARE. THE. BEST. MOMMY" really just means deep down you are insecure and sometimes confused and do not have all the answers. Psssst...guess what? None of us do! We're all just doing the best we can, right girls? And reading detailed lists of how your kids are perfect and your house is perfect and your laundry is done and there's no poop on your sweatshirt and your diaper genie is empty and all your organic meals have been prepped and frozen for the next 6 months makes me laugh. HA! Come on!

For REALZ?

If you're trying to convince me that nobody has barfed, screeched or not napped at your perfectly perfect house of perfection today...I ain't buying. Unless you've drugged them up or something. Seriously. You gave them Neocitron didn't you? I won't judge. The question is...why are you judging yourself?

Tell me the truth. Quit it with the fakery. Please. And I will read and relate.

This is not a game. There are no points awarded for being holier than thou, self righteous and bitchy. You will however, gain friends, (for you and your babies!) understanding and acceptance by admitting that this is the hardest job ever. The best job ever. The one thing you always long to be better at. That you LOVE these wee creatures, but sometime you have NO clue how to get them to stop crying, eat their food, not spit, go to sleep and not grab your boobs at the grocery store.

And PS...they don't care how perfect you are Mommy. They just want to romp and play and laugh and hug. And sometimes, barf on you.

Put DOWN the scrap booking supplies and just PLAY, would ya?

So, in closing, let's hear it for all the Mama's who haven't shaved their legs this week! (It's only Wednesday..there's LOTS of time!)

Let's hear it for the Mama's who gave their kids an arrowroot cookie just so they could catch up on a ~~an episode of The Young and the Restless~~ an important phone call or unload the damn dishwasher!

Let's hear it for the Mama's who MAY have wanted to smack another Mama who feels the need to announce to everyone at the playgroup that her all organic eating, home schooled, potty trained at 6 months, breastfed until they were 4 little angels now can say "My mommy is better than yours in 3 languages!"

Give me a break. And a glass of wine.

Yours Very Truly,

Working on it.

Please nominate me for Mother of the Year....

2010-11-23T07:45:00.002-05:00

Or, not....

Yes, that is vodka. No, he didn't drink any.

I forgot.....

2010-11-10T06:40:00.000-05:00

to show you pictures of our little pumpkin (head.) I often refer to my son as a "pumpkinhead" as he has a big ol' round noggin. Yes, I AM a wonderful mother. Ha!

Farewell sugary goodness...

2010-11-08T06:18:00.000-05:00

I've been losing leftover baby weight. I'm down 10 pounds and have 10 more to go. My progress was moving along nicely. Jillian Micheals tries to kill me daily. Buuuuutt...
I made a big mistake. This year, I bought our Halloween candy at Costco. I made another mistake. I bought Sour Patch Kids and Rockets. I love both of these sugary treats. And because I bought them at Costco, we would have needed 19, 876 kids to swing by Trick or Treating to clear out all the candy.
There was a rather LARGE bowl of leftovers.
I had some.
Last night I got mad at the scale and my number that hadn't budged in a few days. It didn't go up, but it sure didn't go down.
So I went to the pantry. I grabbed the ginormous bowl of candy and dumped it in the garbage can.
Then I cried.
But my ass rejoiced.

Love this.......

2010-10-29T06:13:00.000-04:00

"Boy: A noise with dirt on it."

:-)

Not. Funny.

2010-10-26T06:58:00.000-04:00

‎*I just heard this through the baby monitor*

Todd: "We better make your socks match dude, your Mama's snooty like that."

Ayson: "NawNawNawNaw..." (this means "Mama")

Todd: "If ya want to get a rise outta her, call her a "snooty cougar! Hahahahahha!"

Ayson: *laughing hysterically* "Dadadadadadadada!"

TeeHee Thursday....:-)

2010-10-21T06:58:00.002-04:00

http://www.shitmykidsruined.com/

Here's the follow up to the no snippy snippy..and then I shall shut up about the no snippy snippy.

2010-10-14T06:56:00.007-04:00

So in my previous post I mentioned that we had intended to have Ayson circumcised. Here's the play by play of that day. I think you'll understand our abrubt change of heart. (*Sidenote: Praise be to God and Buddha and whomever else decided to teach me a VERY important lesson that day. Even if you think your mind is made up on an issue, read more, research more, learn more BEFORE you make major decisions. I was SO uninformed and only doing what I thought was "normal." It must be fine, because lots of people do it and they do it in a HOSPITAL. We should do it, because then he'll be like his Dad.Wrong. Wrong. Wrong. Only AFTER this experience did I reseach and discover I was adamantly against this procedure. Thank you universe for the smack upside the head. I get it. The more you know, the more you know you don't know.)

So Todd, baby and I arrive at the hospital with some nerves and are ~~herded like cattle~~ err...ushered into a packed waiting room full of Mommies and Daddies and baby boys. The nurse hands me forms, I start to fill them out. Another nurse walks over to the woman next to me, takes the tiny baby from her arms and walks away while that Mama's eyes fill with tears.

Woah. Wait. Not feeling good about this. So I approach the reception desk.

Me: "Hi...Umm..I was under the impression I would be able to be with my baby during the procedure?"

Nurse: "No. Sorry. it's a sterility issue."

Me: "Sterility issue? This hospital just cut him from my womb less than a week ago with no less that 15 people in the room and didn't even tie my hair back."

Nurse: "Sorry...you cannot go in."

Me: "Well, can I speak to the Dr. who does the procedure?"

Nurse Asshat: "He's quite busy....."

Me: "I'm not comfortable handing my child over for surgery to someone whose eyes I haven't ever looked into to see if they are kind.." (yes, overly dramatic and granola-y..... I was one week postnatal dripping with hormones. Whateves.)

Now, I hear screaming. Like horrific, insane screaming. My face must show my fear, disgust and change of heart...because little Miss. Nurse NobedsideManner says,

"They only scream like that because we strip them naked and strap them to the table.."

Me: "If you're trying to convince me to stay you are failing miserably."

Nurse: "It doesn't hurt them you know."

Me *thinking* "Really..it doesn't? When was the last time someone cut your penis? Umm never. So shut it."

At this point Todd looks at me and says, "We. Are. Leaving."

"We. ARE. Leaving!" I declare to Nurse Jerkwagon gleefully.

Todd is already in the parking lot warming up the car and Nurse PooPoo is trying to convince me to stay. She hands my a fist full of pamphlets "in case we change or minds." Every single one of said pamphelts outlines the dangers, problems and complications of circumcision. Highlights including "hemorrhaging" and "death." Yeah. My mind is COMPLETELY made up. Thanks Nurse Asshat.

So I get in the car and feel peaceful and happy. I know I've made the right decision for us. I did NOT feel peaceful and happy on the way there that day. My body and mind were trying to gently tell me that I wasn't making the right choice. I listened. When we got home. I read. I researched. I repented and than rejoiced that we had not gone through with it. First and foremost, I realized it's NOT my body. How dare I presume to make that decision for my child? The myths about cleanliness and other nonsense are just that. MYTHS.

My first lesson in maternal instinct. Trust your gut. You know what's best for your child. Do not be bullied by Doctors, Nurses or those who think they "know better" than you. Trust yourself.

Again. I urge to you watch a circumcision video if you are considering this procedure for your child. Then decide.

That is all......

No, it's not...

Dear God/Buddha and all other spirits in the sky:

Please encourage my husband and son to forgive me from discussing their units on the internet for all the world to see and make them understand I only did it to save the willies. Mmmmkay? Thanks so much.

And this is how I feel about that...WARNING..this is a serious one folks, for realz....

2010-10-07T06:28:00.008-04:00

The more I read about circumcising our son, the more my mind was made up. His penis is not mine. I will not make decisions like that for him. If he wants it done someday, he is free to do so, but I was not prepared to make that choice for him. Yes, it will hurt if he decides to do so. So did childbirth. Deal. There are NO medical reasons for this procedure (keep reading if you are about to tell me about cleanliness, the spread of HIV or any other nonsensical ideas..they have ALL been disproved) Also, please don't tell me little boys should "look like their Dads" or that "he'll be teased in the locker room." Not looking exactly like someone else is the perfect chance to teach him everyone is different and that is just fine. And today, with the amount of granola head, hippy-esque Mamas like myself refusing to subject our boys to unnecessary, painful (yes, as a matter of fact, it DOES hurt..how the frig could it NOT?) surgeries mere days after their birth, there will be PLENTY of intact boys in the dressing room. I have a friend who is a childcare provider who estimates it's probably 50/50 now. We condemn those from other countries who choose to do this to their baby girls, yet we continue this gruesome procedure on our boys. I URGE you to watch a circumcision video online if you are trying to decide what to do for your baby. I doubt you'll watch it to the end. The following link to a blog post from "Dr. Momma" highlights my reasons for keeping Ayson as he was given to me. Perfect and intact.
Since making this choice, I've disovered we know 4 people whose son's circumsions were botched and needed follow up surgeries to "fix." FOUR! And that's just in our circle.

I'll post our "almost circumcised" experience soon. We initially planned to have him circumcised. Then when we got there, the policies, procedures,screaming baby boys and cold attitudes of the medical professionals made us change our minds and RUN out of the hospital. No joke..and I thank God everyday that we did....anynosnip....please read this.....then we can talk....here's a great quote from her post:

"We get bacteria under our fingernails, but we don’t remove them at birth: we wash our hands. We get cavities, but we don’t remove our teeth: we get fillings. We even get athlete's foot and other unsavory things on our feet, but we don't remove our toes. You see where I am going with this."

In the blog post, the authour mentions that the more you read and learn about circumcision, the more you are against it. This rang SO very true for me.

http://www.drmomma.org/2010/10/why-all-circumcision-posts.html

NawNawNawNaw...

2010-10-03T21:44:00.002-04:00

The baby said "Mama!" Actaully he calls me "NawNawNaw" but close enough, right?

He also says, "NumNumNum" which we're pretty sure means food and "Dadadadadadadada" all the live long day. And by all the live long day, I seriously mean All. Day. Long.

Here's Mr. Hilarious for your viewing enjoyment. This is at a fall fair demolition derby where they smash up old stock cars. Clearly he enjoyed it.

WTF???

2010-09-23T09:02:00.001-04:00

In the name of being passive aggressive and not causing any major drama bullshit on Facebook and offending some kids Mommie's about their craptastic, lackluster parenting skills I shall post the following here:

If your 14 year old daughter has 975 Facebook friends and you live in a town of 3000, you might want to monitor her internet usage a little more. And by a little more, I mean man/mom up and at least ONCE see what the hell your ~~innapropriate, unsupervised~~ CHILD is doing! Also, if said ~~innapropriate, unsupervised~~ CHILD posts 45 photo albums each containing 201 pictures of JUST her in various states of undress and egotistical poses, you may want to haul out a dictionary and make her study up on being a narcassistic brat.

Jesus, Mary and Joseph.

Thanks for listening internet. You're always there for me and I love you for that.

By my calculations........

2010-09-13T07:01:00.002-04:00

I guestimate approx. 12 years left of being able to wear a bikini without serious droopage. Which means I need to kick my own ass hard and lose the last 15 baby pounds like, NOW. Who wants to follow me around for the next 12 weeks and take cookies out of my hand? Hello? Helllllllllllllllllllo?

I don't see why not....

2010-08-31T06:56:00.000-04:00

(Todd steps into the kitchen @ 6:30am..I'm on the air from a home studio until November and whirlwind thru about this time every am to eat.)

T: What the frig happened in here?"

Me: What?

T: Tell me exactly what you ate for breakfast this morning.

Me: A boiled egg, peas in the pod, yogurt, 3 cherry tomatoes and a Hersey's Kiss.

Todd: Well that explains the eggshells and foil wrapping strewn about. A Hershey's Kiss?!?

Me: I earned it. On account of the peas and the cherry tomatoes. Shut it. And it was actually TWO Hersy's Kisses. Plural.

Let's try something new here....

2010-08-25T07:38:00.000-04:00

We'll call it, "What the eff Wednesdays." A post, every Wednesday to jiggle your brains a wee bit and make you feel superior to some of those around you. This should not be hard.

For example, can you beleive within the last 50 years they recommended we gals do THIS:

What the eff? See, that was easy.

He said, she said...

2010-08-24T06:46:00.000-04:00

Todd: "There's a bra on our kitchen table."

Me: "Yeah. I did that."

Todd: "Why for?"

Me: "It was poking me in all the wrong places at lunch."

Todd: "That's what she said."

Me: "Damnit. I shoulda seen that one coming."

Todd: "That's what she said."

Me:"Is this gonna go on forever?"

Todd: "That's what she said."

*These exchanges are daily fare around our Casa. There is mucho nonsense. Unless we are watching Bachelor Pad or Jersey Shore. Then I expect silence. In order to concentrate, you know?

True Blood Dip

2010-08-16T07:05:00.001-04:00

I promised the lady who gave this recipe I'd NEVER reveal it on my blog.

I lied.

Sorry lady.

You're welcome everyone else.

Anti-Vampire Dip (Shhhhhhhhh)

2 Packages of Cream Cheese, softened

1 container of McLaren's sharp cheddar (softened...this cheese is in a red plastic container and found beside the cream cheese in most supermarkets)

4 cloves of raw garlic, chopped VERY finely (Slapchop, baby!! :-)

Mix well, chill, serve with crackers or Tortilla Scoops.

Make sure EVERYONE has some of this dip or their breath won't match the garlicky goodness of your own.

I may or may not have just eaten some of this leftover dip straight outta the container at 7:04am.

Don't judge.

Dolt Gobblers

2010-08-05T07:55:00.000-04:00

Husband: That dude is wearing Manpris!! Bahahaha!

Me: Well, maybe he's hot.

Husband: Maybe, but he's also a dolt gobbler.

Me: You shouldn't judge people by their pant length.

Husband: Well, I do. That and their lawn length. Seriously. Mow that shiz, yo.

Cape Cod Chris

2010-08-03T06:40:00.001-04:00

Please God tell me that the Ali rejected, adorable, sweet, rainbow spotting Chris L. from Cape Cod is the new Bachelor. We need to be able to gawk at him a wee bit more.

Also, This new "Bachelor Pad" program looks disgusting and immoral. I can't wait.

Ali, you and Roberto are adorbs. I concur, he's the one for you. I know you were anxiously awaiting my approval.

I honestly used to consider the Bachelor/Bachelorette the most revolting/annoying thing on television. How did this compulsion become mine?? Clearly I fit the demo now. I feel shame.

But for realz..ABC....Chris L...the new Bachelor. Pleeeeeaaassseeee. Chris Harrison!! Are you listening??? I'm coming after your job too, by the way. Hostess of The Bachelor/Bachelorette. I can dig it. I'd actually do it for free.

Just one more pic of Mr. Adorable Rainbowpants for your viewing pleasure:

6 months of Ayson

2010-07-19T06:42:00.000-04:00

Say it again, sista!

2010-07-09T08:09:00.000-04:00

A Well Deserved Hangover.....

2010-06-14T07:38:00.002-04:00

Bachelor party last night, Niagara Falls. My husband in attendance. Liquid dinner @ Brazilian restaurant w/ belly dancers. Hit a few bars. Lost his Iphone. Found his Iphone. Back to hotel. Smoked Cubans in the elevator with strangers & had the entire $500 dollar a night, hotel overlooking the Falls evacutated. Lost his room after quest for cheesies & chocolate milk. Apparently, I married Bradley Cooper.

Football? Soccer? Ole, Ole Ole.....

2010-06-11T06:32:00.000-04:00

I really couldn't care less about the World Cup, but will fake the excitement and maintain my hubby's fantasies where I serve him chili cheese dip and ask sweetly, "Who's winning?" Then I pretend to listen, roll my eyes and leave the room.

PS..A MONTH??? This *&^t is on for a MONTH?
Jesus, Mary and Joseph.
BOOOOOOOOOOO....Errrr...Ole, Ole, Ole!!!

Can you handle the super sappy-ness?

2010-06-09T06:35:00.001-04:00

This reminds me so much of my Daddy. And my son's Daddy.
Happy (almost) Father's Day Daddy-O's.
:-)

Soooooooooooooo

2010-06-04T06:37:00.002-04:00

....sorry my little running friends. But I hate the running. And I don't hate anything. But I hate the running. Where I am going and why am I in such a hurry? Where was my runner's high? How can I be wearing two sports bras and still have tender Ta-tas? Pffffft. I'm gonna stick with the Yoga-ing and Pilate-ing and rowing machine. Because I. Hate. Running.

This blog.....

2010-05-16T21:52:00.000-04:00

desperately needs a makeover. But I need help. Like a blog tutor/mentor/designer/smartcomputernerdtypedude. And some time. And less poop in my life. Then I could spend waaaayyy more time making a pretty blog. And learning fancy blog things. But for now, this it it you guys. Gotta run.... I smell poop.

Sometimes....

2010-05-10T21:55:00.000-04:00

I talk too much. Today, I tried to listen. This is what I listened to. Over and over. Then I cried for no apparent reason. Happy Monday.

Bumbo and Sofie on a Sunday afternoon.....

2010-04-12T07:34:00.002-04:00

Our Big Boy.......

2010-03-29T08:37:00.001-04:00

He's gurgling and cooing and laughing and reaching for toys and making my everyday seem like the best day there ever was or ever could be.

A year ago..I was only 2 weeks pregnant...life is amazing and astonishing, isn't it?

Things I love right now..............

2010-03-10T21:45:00.000-05:00

* His milky baby breath. Sweet and so yummy. I want to keep it in a jar.
* Playing on the change table He LOVES the change table...kicking and cooing and smiling...
* His 26 different smiles. The best one being when a boob is coming towards his face. Hilarious.
* Nursing and Nuzzling..
* Watching him sleep. I should sleep when he sleeps. (Why is that so hard?)
* Laying on our big bed with him next to me and being quiet while he coos and giggles and touches my face.
* The way his eyes follow his father's movements and voice.
* The big stretches and scrunchy faces when he's waking up.
* Mommy and Baby Yoga.
* Tiny little toenails.
* Tiny little earlobes.
* Tiny little baby bum.
* Not so tiny baby farts. How does a little angelbum make such terrible noises?
* Kicking and splashing in the tub. And every once in a while...peeing in the tub.
* Reading books..especially "Guess How Much I Love You."
* That in these past 11 weeks my life has meant more than the previous 1669 weeks I've been on this earth.

Gold Baby, Gold.

2010-02-28T18:43:00.000-05:00

Proud, eh?

What an INCREDIBLE win for our Canadian hockey team...and all of the rest of our Olympic heros.
Canada is simply the best country in the world to live...and play in.

It's been so long.....

2010-02-18T00:21:00.001-05:00

Sorry. But I find most of my time is taken up gazing at this:

But don't be too jealous...sometimes he does this:

But then he does this..and all is well again with the world:

I just had a big ol' "I'm a Mommy" realization moment........

2010-01-29T18:10:00.001-05:00

I looked down at my hoodie today and realized there was baby barf on it but I already had Ayson in his car seat and ready to go to the grocery store so instead of changing it (as I would of done pre-baby if something narsty was on my clothes as I suffer from extreme OCD and would've been all crazy to clean! it! NOW!) I simply wiped it off with a baby wipe and went on my merry way. It's kind of reminisent of yesterday when on the way to wash my hands after a major poopy diaper I noticed I had some major poopy on my hand and didn't even flinch. This would have sent me Amy Winehouse crazy pre-baby. Poop? On my hand? THE HORROR!
Also...did you see American Idol when the dude sang the "Pants On the Ground" song that is all the new Youtube rage? At our house we sing that song a lot but have reworked the lyircs to this, "Poop in your pants, poop in your pants, smelling really foul with some poop in your pants."
This is my new life.
And I love it.
:-)

I really should be Un-Christmasing my house.....

2010-01-06T13:14:00.000-05:00

....but instead I just had to share this with y'all:

Oh...and this:

and finally, this:

Okay...that was not the final.....I just can't keep this to myself:

We are so in love..and next time, we'll even let Daddy be in the pictures! (He was at work...making Mama the money..'caus if Mama ain't happy...ain't nobody happy.....lol))

For more info on our wonderful photographer, Sandy Jamieson of Zaida Baby....go to http://www.zaidababy.com/ The Zaida Baby book is a great gift idea for parents to be!!

I am a Mommy!

2009-12-29T23:54:00.000-05:00

Our amazing boy, Ayson Todd was born December 21st at 9:19pm. He weighed 8 pounds 11 and a half ounces and I cry 12 times a day just looking at him....

I cry every time......Click here to cry along with me :-)

2009-12-16T15:30:00.000-05:00

I hear this:

O Holy Night!

The stars are brightly shining,

It is the night of the dear Saviour's birth.

Long lay the world in sin and error pining.

Till He appeared and the Soul felt its worth.

A thrill of hope the weary world rejoices,

For yonder breaks a new and glorious morn.

Fall on your knees! Oh, hear the angel voices!

O night divine, the night when Christ was born;

O night, O Holy Night , O night divine!

O night, O Holy Night , O night divine!

Led by the light of faith serenely beaming,

With glowing hearts by His cradle we stand.

O'er the world a star is sweetly gleaming,

Now come the wisemen from out of the Orient land.

The King of kings lay thus lowly manger;

In all our trials born to be our friends.

He knows our need, our weakness is no stranger,

Behold your King! Before him lowly bend!

Behold your King! Before him lowly bend!

Truly He taught us to love one another,

His law is love and His gospel is peace.

Chains he shall break, for the slave is our brother.

And in his name all oppression shall cease.

Sweet hymns of joy in grateful chorus raise we,

With all our hearts we praise His holy name.

Christ is the Lord! Then ever, ever praise we,

His power and glory ever more proclaim!

His power and glory ever more proclaim!

I am..............

2009-12-09T00:53:00.000-05:00

Still pregnant. I wonder what's the longest a human has ever been pregnant? I should Google that and find out. Or maybe, I shouldn't. I feel sorry for elephants. Because they are preggers for 3 years and because even when they're not pregnant they are huge. And being huge is tiring. I should know. Stilllllllll pregnant.

I was SO excited....

2009-12-03T09:19:00.000-05:00

When my OB told me yesterday that I was 2 cms dilated and, I quote, "had a nice soft, cervix."
Then my cousin told me that she was 2 cms dilated for 2 weeks before her daughter was born.
Why'd she have to go ruin my dilation dreams?? Huh? Can't a girl's cervix get soft and supple without the damn negativity? ;-)
I won't even tell you what cuz' revealed about the whole "mucus plug" thing.
And PS...Are there any two grosser words that "mucus plug?" Narsty. Uggghhh. Blech.
We aren't due until Monday......but Mama's feeling like the lease is up!

The Nursery.........

2009-11-23T07:15:00.002-05:00

is DONE!!

BEFORE:

After:

Healthy, Helpful and Handy!

2009-11-15T19:18:00.003-05:00

I know my favourite blog changes just about every week……but this one’s a dreamy doozy!!

It’s called “You’ve Got Supper” and it emails you a FREE 5 day menu plan AND grocery list each week. Pick your fav’s and rock and roll ladies! (*ahem* annnnd gentlemen!)

FREE! FREE! FREE!

Come on!

How many times are you feeling like that poor sista/soul in the commercial making the same daggone dinners time after time and doing it with your eyes closed? We all have our fav’s ….but a little inspiration in the kitchen is awesome. A menu plan and grocery list is awesomer. Yes, I did say “awesomer.” I’m feeling creative and makin’ up words! I have time to make up words now that I don’t have to make up grocery lists!!!

Yippy Ky Yay!

Here’s the link:

www.youvegotsupper.com/

In case you are wondering………I do not know the “You’ve Got Supper” peeps and nor do they pay me. Food just makes me REALLY happy.

Please excuse my blogging negligance....

2009-11-06T07:57:00.001-05:00

as we moved this week....and because I am Smarty McBrilliant pants, I also have a house full o' company this weekend.

Here's a tip: NEVER move whilst 9 months pregnant. Bad idea. Seriously. We even hired movers but it still feels like I moved every frickin' frackin' box myself uphill with one hand.

Oh.....and don't crawl up 4 feet or so onto the ledge of your new soaker tub and try to hang a plant under a skylight either. This may cause your usually sweet, calm husband to call you things like "crazy, knocked up whackadoo" and make you cry.

Pictures coming soon!

Happy Friday my sweets!

Happy Halloween! Click HERE for the funny my peeps......

2009-10-29T05:42:00.000-04:00

This is hilarity ensued last year with my Puggle (Pug x Beagle) Talullah.

She pretty much makes me laugh my face off with her crazy ways everyday, but at this time last year I just happened to have a camera handy.

Along with pumpkins, she also has a problem with skateboards and skateboarders, garbage cans on the curb and people in mobilized chairs. It can get rather embarrassing on our daily walks. Keep in mind this is a dog who is not at all afraid of running alongside 4 horses in the paddock, chasing large swans or geese at the park, or swimming with ducks at the cottage. She tries to make friends with every damn cat she encounters (no matter how many times they hiss, meow and kick her ass.)

But those pumpkins! Watch out for those pumpkins!

The following conversation just went down in the hallway at work:

2009-10-27T08:29:00.000-04:00

Co-worker: "Are you STILL pregnant? Jeez. When ya gonna drop that thing? I've seen elephants that have a shorter justation period...." ~~and then he said some more random, STUPID shit....~~

Me: You do know that I could kill you dead and most likely get away with it right now especially after I tell the judge you used the word "elephant" in conversation with a pregnant woman?"

Co-worker: "Hahahahahahhahahahhahahahahhaa"

Me: "Yeah, I'm not kidding."

Then I ~~kicked him in the junk~~ smiled a motherly grin and walked away.

We are 8 months pregnant!

2009-10-19T18:38:00.002-04:00

I heart her.

2009-10-16T07:56:00.000-04:00

32 Weeks Pregnant Means:

2009-10-13T17:38:00.001-04:00

The lease on my uterus is almost up. It all means a few other noteable things.

1. I am now shaving my legs and other parts by memory and prayer.
2. I have to write myself notes on my hand (preferrably in red ink) so I remember things. Things you think I'd recall without red ink hand notes such as my dog's name, where I live and ~~what colour my car is~~ where I parked.
3. I drop my keys (3 times in 3 minutes) in the grocery store line and ~~grunt like a farm animal~~ gracefully bend at the knees to retrieve them.
4. I have to wake up and do a 3 point turn to switch sides in bed. This causes more ~~farm animal grunting~~ sweet sighs.
5. So. Much. Peeing. So. Much. Really.
6. Sometimes when random 50 year old strange men ask me inappropriate things like, "Do you have any stretch marks?" I really want to kick them in the face and call them bigrudeignorantassdinklosershitballs instead of smiley sweetly and pretending I didn't hear them.
7. The crazy dreams. Oh, the crazy dreams. You know, the one where my husband is really an alien who paints my toenails and our toilet is on the roof? Yeah, go look THAT up in the damn dream book.
8. My love to indulge in all things orange. Orange pop, cheetos, all things pumpkin, carrots and squash. WTF??
9. Obsessing about ~~random nonsense~~ serious issues such as organizing drawers, finding lost socks and the Swine Flu. I'm Swine Flu crazy.
10. Studying my naked self in the mirror and praying to God I'll be able to harness in the new ass, curves,boobs and other ~~fat parts~~ baby blessings after bebe arrives. I'm not sure how God feels about naked praying. But I do it anyway.

Well, that was fun. Thanks for letting me get it off my incredibly ample chest. Now, I'm off to prenatal Yoga to commiserate with all the other pregnant goddesses.

Where the hell are my keys????

Happy Thanksgiving to my fellow Canadians!

2009-10-12T06:20:00.001-04:00

"Gratitude unlocks the fullness of life. It turns what we have into enough, and more. It turns denial into acceptance, chaos to order, confusion to clarity. It can turn a meal into a feast, a house into a home, a stranger into a friend. Gratitude makes sense of our past, brings peace for today, and creates a vision for tomorrow." -Melody Beattie

I'm Alive.......Click on THIS to watch the video..........

2009-10-05T07:06:00.001-04:00

In my line of work.....it's all about the music. And for me, it's all about the lyrics. That's what I love about country music. It tells a story. It reminds us to take note of our blessings. It reminds us to pass them on. It makes me contemplate life and living every day. I don't know any other genre that does that. It's sincere. And it still surprises me, everyday. After 13 years of being on air, I should know by now that often when I hear a song that I don't really like, it more than not turns into a favourite. I'm not a huge Kenny Chesney fan.....but this song (which, at first, I could take or leave) is now one I turn up and belt out every time it spins. I love it. The line, "Stars are dancin’ on the water here tonight, It’s good for the soul, when there’s not a soul in sight." speaks to me. It's such a beautifully written song. Enjoy......

"I'm Alive"-Kenny Chesney with Dave Matthews

So damn easy to say that life’s so hard

Everybody’s got their share of battle scars
As for me I’d like to thank my lucky stars that
I’m alive, and well.

It’d be easy to add up all the pain
And all the dreams you sat and watched go up in flames
Dwell on the wreckage as it smolders in the rain
But not me, I’m alive.

And today you know that’s good enough for me
Breathin' in and out's a blessin' can’t you see
Today's the first day of the rest of my life
And I’m alive, and well
I’m alive, and well.

Stars are dancin’ on the water here tonight
It’s good for the soul, when there’s not a soul in sight
But this boat has caught its wind and brought me back to life
Now I’m alive, and well.

And today you know that’s good enough for me
Breathin' in and out's a blessing can’t you see
Today is the first day of the rest of my life
Now I’m alive, and well.
Yeah I’m alive, and well.

Absolutely infuriating.......Read the link.....then proceed with caution....

2009-09-30T08:16:00.004-04:00

This story makes me ill. The part that 2 girls are missing is terrible. The part that the 12 year old girl is 9 MONTHS PREGNANT is disgusting, disgraceful and beyond comprehension.
Without fully knowing all the facts of the case I stand by the fact that if your 12 year old becomes pregnant, you as a parent have failed. Miserabley. After she is found, (safely, I pray) she should be removed from her mother's care, or lack there of.
Unbelieveable.
With all of the amazing people in this big, (mostly beautful) world trying desperately to have a baby, or those who have lost a precious child I simply cannot understand why the universe would allow this to happen. It makes me question my Faith...and all I believe. Make no mistake, I am not blaming this 12 year old girl for being pregnant. Clearly the poor girl has had no guidance, support, boundaries or anything else a good parent must provide. Which leads us right into a terrible circle. What will she be prepared to offer this baby she is about to have? Nothing. Because she has had no love and protection, nor will her child. Regardless of how this child became pregnant...with her own misguided judgement...or at the hand of some vicious predator....the situation is so severely tragic.
I am 33 years old, gainfully employed, married, happy and 7 1/2 months pregnant with my first baby. Becoming a Mother (yes, the word should always be capitalized) is the most important thing I've ever done. Bigger than college, careers, and even marriage. I take this new role very seriously. I still get nervous imagining that I (along with my amazing husband) will be responsible for this little life. Not just feeding and bathing and providing shelter..but for teaching and training and smiling and loving and trying to be and do my best every minute of every day. It's a the biggest job/duty/honour/responsibilty/gift and cannot be taken lightly. I wish this girl's mother had been taught that. I will find my Faith and pray for them. Mother, 12 year old and baby...and cry for them too.

"Fathers, be good to your daughters
Daughters will love like you do
Girls become lovers who turn into mothers
So mothers, be good to your daughters too."

Click on this: I Love Hot Dogs.

2009-09-28T15:50:00.004-04:00

Happy Monday Y'all!

Seriously. Shut. Up.

2009-09-23T07:21:00.002-04:00

I work in the media. I am on display. I get it. People like to tell me what they think which is only a fair response since I get paid to tell people what I think. However, there are things you simply shouldn’t say to a pregnant girl, yet people cannot seem to help themselves. Perhaps my hormones are whacky and my patience thin due to exhaustion and swelling. That being said, I’m going to take this opportunity to do what ALL pregnant women want to do. Enlighten you on what NOT to say. Don’t be too hard on yourself if you’ve spurted forth one of these no-no phrases. Just please, in the name of all that is good and holy, don’t do it again. Here we go:

“Well, be careful how much weight you gain. Whatever you gain you’ll need to lose.”

Thanks for the tip. I had no idea. Cripes.

“I was in labour for 5 days and they wouldn’t give me drugs and the nurses were horrible and the food was terrible and blah, blah, blah.”

Sorry about your luck. Perhaps you were being punished for some previous karmatic mistake.

“Get all the sleep you can now because once the baby comes…..”

WHOA! WHAT? Babies keep you up at night? Alert the newspapers! Hold the press!

"Are you sure there's only one in there?"

Yes, as a matter of fact I am. So is my doctor, midwife, OB/Gyn and the Ultrasound tech. Unless, of course you're smarter than all of us?

“My sister had a 12 pound baby-no drugs.”

She’s my hero. Get the girl a cape. Call Oprah.

And for the final, final…my ABSOLUTE favorite thus far, asked by a MAN who I'd never met before in my life:

"Are you going to deliver vaginally?"

Whoa….dude!! I realize I share a lot of my life with y'all…..but if you wouldn't mind staying out of my uterus and or vagina..it'd be much appreciated. Thanks so much.

I think the “things not to say or the pregnant girl may verbally abuse you in public” will be an ongoing list.

Now my adorable readers, perhaps you’re wondering what IS appropriate to say to expectant moms. It’s a short list. Here’s what I’ve got so far:

“Congratulations!”

“You look lovely.”

There's no such thing as bad publicity..........

2009-09-15T05:56:00.003-04:00

Where Were You When the World Stopped Turning?

2009-09-11T06:02:00.000-04:00

"When the power of love overcomes the love of power, the world will know peace.” ~Hendrix

The following conversation just went down in the car on the way home form a dinner party:

2009-09-05T01:02:00.002-04:00

Mister: :"I'm so getting into heaven before you."

Me: "Whateves. When was the last time you were even near church?"

Mister: "It's not about the real life church frequency, I go to church in my head all. the. time."

Me: "Well then I'm sure the Good Lord will bump you right up to the front of the heaven line. You'll pass by all sorts of repenting sinners, then me and then He'll usher your imaginary church going self right thru the pearly gates."

Mister: "Effing right He will!!"

Me: "You DO realize you just dropped the 'f' bomb in our Heaven discussion?"

Mister: "Judge ye not babe, judge ye not.....God doesn't. You shouldn't either."

*Please note that as I am knocked up and he was driving, there was no consumption of alcohol to deem this accceptable Friday night conversing.

Tee hee.....

2009-09-04T06:58:00.003-04:00

That is all.

Happy Friday and lonnnng weekend my adorables!!

See ya Tuesday....