Monthly Archives: July 2016

Already Gone.

I often write the title of my blogs first so I have some sort of direction.
Today nothing is coming to mind immediately, so I am doing it in reverse.
We just got back from our weekend away and while I was thankful for having a couple of days to unwind, of not-cleaning and not-cooking, this anniversary was probably a bit disappointing for both my husband and myself.
We have had so many great experiences on these trips that this time around we were expecting the same level of adventure, discovery and fun.
We were trying so hard to live up to the expectations of our previous trips, that we rushed around trying to fit it all in.
We tired ourselves out and felt a little drained afterwards.
In the car on the way home I said maybe it is time we find a new adventure for our anniversary weekends.
I feel like we might be giving up on our little getaway a bit.
We have loved visiting this town for almost a decade.
But, part of me feels like we need to move on.
Instead of dredging out another trip, hoping that it might be better next time, we have decided that it is OK to let it go.
This might be the point of this post where you feel like my self-entitlement and privilege is getting the better of me.
It is.
I want to have a good time and love my life. If I have the means to do so, I am going to do it.
Part of this process is learning to let go of things that I feel have come to an end.
Too often in my past I have stuck it out and tried to make things work even though I knew things were fizzling out.
It has happened with some of my business ventures, my personal goals and even some relationships I thought would last a lifetime.
One of the roughest times in my life was when I decided a seemingly strong friendship was probably at the end of its rope. It was hard and probably a more difficult ending to a relationship than anytime I had been dating someone and it didn’t work out.
But, I knew it was at an end because the relationship no longer made me feel good.
It had always been a relationship that I had to work hard at keeping the balance and pleasing the other party, but I honestly thought it was a lifelong one.
When it stopped making feel truly happy and good, I had to let it go.
Can you imagine if we were all able to let go of things that didn’t make us feel good and had no recourse? I think we would all be happier.
I know this doesn’t sound that deep or thoughtful, but the process of letting go is so hard.
Fuck, just realizing all the work, dedication, memories that you have put into something have been done just so it can come to an end is terribly saddening – maddening, even.
However, I think we have all had that feeling deep down in the pit of our stomach that tells us when something isn’t right for us anymore – and we feel an intense guilt when we decide to let it end.
I know it isn’t always 100% possible to end things that aren’t working. Sometimes we have to keep trudging along because we don’t have a choice to stop – but when we can sit back and really evaluate why something makes us sad, mad, and our instinct is telling us to run and we have the capability to do so – DO IT.
Even if it makes you look like the bad guy – letting go of something that doesn’t serve you, doesn’t help you grow and makes you feel terrible is totally worth it – even if that is a relationship that once thrived and was strong.
I would be the bad guy 100 times over if it meant I was truly happy and relieved by my choice to move on.
I feel like this post is coming to an end as well.
I still haven’t thought of a title for it, but the general feel of it is the possibility that letting go can lead to new adventure – whether it is letting go of a person, place or thing.
Letting go doesn’t mean we have to have hate or think only about the bad times in order to validate our choice to let go – that’s not the point I want to come across here.
I have so many good memories and I am not stupid enough to believe they didn’t happen and didn’t make me feel happy at the time.
The good times don’t just fade away because we aren’t going to that special place anymore.
The good times are always a reminder that things happen for a reason and people are in your life to help you become the person you are meant to be.
But, it is OK to let them go when the feel goods have turned sour.
Can I just leave it here?
Can I just lay this out and let this go?
Love Yourself,

Sucking and Blowing

This weekend is our anniversary weekend and I am effin’ PUMPED!
This is not a blog post about my sex life or the details of what is going on in our hotel room this weekend, I promise.

We usually try to get away every year to the same little town called Lunenburg about an hour from our house. We rent a room by the bay and wander around the town eating our faces off for brunch, lunch, linner, dinner, second supper, midnight snacks – and then we get completely bombed at the local pub and saunter on back to our room – we take the long way back.

That’s fuckin’ love.

We actually haven’t made this little trip in three years because the first year we missed I was knocked up, second year we had a newborn, third year we just forgot.
We forgot. That’s lame.

I am even more excited this year than usual and not just because it has been a while, but also because I feel like we really deserve to do this.
Husband works his ass off,  and I get cabin fever, pretty much week to week.

The past few weeks though, this blogging has been a bit of a savior for me.
I honestly feel like it is an open diary – I don’t have a lock on it or give a shit who reads it and I have had a lot of positive feed back from so many people.
I get texts, emails, messages, tweets etc. from so many people and it makes me feel like I have a little community of like-minded quasi-friends.

When I started writing these entries I would literally read them and edit, rewrite and switch around paragraphs etc. about 5 times each.
I was finding that in my efforts to be adequate enough to post, I was focusing a lot on whether people would like the entries or not.
I was worried a lot about whether people thought this was joke, or I sucked at writing in general.
I promise you that this isn’t a joke, however funny it may come across.

As far as sucking, well, there is always going to be someone out there who thinks I suck.

I am over it already.
I broke up with that feeling and have moved on.

Now the only time I suck is when I am inhaling enough air to blow past the naysayers, the doubters and the saboteurs.

I feel intuitively stronger than ever at this point in my life.
That means I get to go with my gut feelings and trust myself with my decisions.
I get to choose my path.
I get to decide what is best for me.
I don’t have to keep negative relationships.
I can invest in the relationships that give me the most joy.
I don’t have to keep trying to sow the ground in a garden full of cow weeds.
As a matter of fact, I get to choose the soil in which I plant my seeds of trust, loyalty and love.
I get to harvest the rewards of the choices I have made for myself.
The rewards can be newfound friendships, wonderful experiences, or discoveries that I would have never had if I hadn’t taken some risks, let go of some shit and grabbed life by the balls.

Basically, what this post boils down to is the fact that we are going away for our anniversary this weekend and I have already decided I am having deep fried lobster.

Like I said, those gut feelings – I get to go with them…
…sucking and blowing all the way.

Love Yourself,


Humble and Kind

Yesterday I ran into someone I had maybe seen a total of once since leaving high school.
You all know I am 32, so it has been roughly the entire series of Grey’s Anatomy plus 3 years since I graduated… aka an entire lifetime ago since I have seen some of the people I knew so closely for the 7 years my high school years spanned.

I think we all remember what high school was like.
We had the different cliques or groups of people who had the same interests or whatever.
We all made assumptions about each other based on such trivial things as how we dressed, whether we smoked (or not), whether we put out (or not), who we dated, who our friends were, how much money we (our parents) had. We really confined ourselves, didn’t we?

Now we are full-fledged, got the badge, mother-effin adults.
We are all adulting the best we know how.
SURPRISE – even your parents didn’t really know what they were doing.

But, how many times have you ran into someone from your high school years, or even your past in general, and that meeting made you question yourself.

The person I ran into yesterday was not always a straight-A student, but she was never a real problem for teachers either. She was never mean, or a bully. She was pretty fun and seemingly happy. If I had to put her into a Freaks and Geeks compartment, she would be a Freak.
In the best way.
(Watch Freaks and Geeks on Netflix so you understand what I am talking about.)

Yesterday was an eye-opener. We were talking about some of our struggles and I am telling you something right now, this woman has been through some real shit.
She’s not complaining about not getting the time to paint a masterpiece, or that she is bored while being a stay-at-home mom. (God, that makes me feel like such an ingrate.)
She is making it work the best way she knows how.
Even though she has been through abuse, more abuse, being a single mom, trying to find work, trying to raise her child, trying to find an adequate place to live… she isn’t giving up and she is fighting the Good Fight.
The Good Fight is trying to be a better person and bettering the environment which is around you.
That doesn’t mean living in luxury – it means making the best of what you have.
The Good Fight doesn’t mean trying to make things work when they are broken – it means knowing when it is time to kick some negative people, places or things to the curb.
It doesn’t mean asking for handouts or more from others because it is deserved – it means being brave enough to ask when something is needed and humble enough to know when that need is fulfilled.

I came away from that meeting feeling like a brat.

I was raised by loving parents who probably gave into me a little too much sometimes.
I do feel like they also made me work for some things, but being the youngest of 7 children, often things were handed to me that my siblings had to work for.

If we could rewind the clock to the earliest point of mankind where we had to survive off the land – my family built their village close enough to the river so we had a little walk, but the river was accessible enough that we survived. We may have tripped a time or two on the path, but we were healthy, able to grow our own crops and to spawn generations.

Some people are born further from the river.
Their lives are fucking tough.
They learn to persevere, or die.
Their clan may live on, but they don’t have access to the resources the other family does.

Then there are others that are born on the river.
They have all the access they need to the fresh water. Their family comes to the riverbanks only to pick up what they need and then they return to their yachts.
Sometimes these people end up drowning from carrying too much on their boat.
Sometimes they end up flourishing because they only take what they need, and they are thankful.

We aren’t all born in the same circumstances. Our parents do their best from which they were born into as well…and so on and so on.

It is a heavy burden to try and break the familial cycle.
If you are what you know, how do you learn to be different?
How do you break the barriers that our establishments have set in place for you?

I am not sure. I am not a fucking genius and my life has been pretty damn cushy.

I just know what I felt yesterday was the need to be more understanding, humble and kind.

I need to understand that everyone is a product of their environment, their upbringing, and the types of opportunities they have had in life. Their choices might have gotten them into some trouble, but that is hindsight. No one makes decisions knowing that it is going to cause them to struggle. That is basic instinct of survival. We choose to do what we think is best in the moment. The repercussions are a side-effect.

I need to be more humble. This means being grateful for what I have and not being jealous of what others might have. It is a stressful life to always be seeking more and more material possessions. I have more than some, less than others.

I need to be kind. Always. The End.

Love Yourself,


Fear to Anger

I have sat down several times this past week trying to publish a few blogs I have in the queue, but I can’t seem to get them to feel right.
This has been a hell of a week.
If you read or hear or watch the news, you know there have been some terrible incidences lately, albeit American, that make you question this world we live in.
I question this world a lot.
I am the mother of two daughters.
Seeing a man-child walk relatively unscathed from his rape conviction made me ill.
This makes me fear for my daughters’ safety and how well this world will handle them when they are left to their own devices.
(If you are part of the 1 in 4, I hear you.
I can hear your rage. I feel it too.)
Then the news of the horrible tragedy in Orlando made me cry.
How could I date write about my trivial issues when there are such atrocities happening to others?
I couldn’t.
So, I didn’t.
I try not to be afraid of what this world holds – but sometimes it happens.
Sometimes that fear manifests into something entirely different – and that is anger.
I am angry that I have to have the fear.
It is a survival instinct in all of us to fear the unknown.
We don’t know who is targeting us, who wishes us ill will, who wants to see the end of us.
This makes us afraid – and that makes me angry.
I want to wake up to good news, just once.
I want to feel that rush everyone felt when the Great War was over. – when there was peace for a minute and everyone had exhausted their fight.
I am tired of hearing that I have an enemy I have never met, or because I am a woman I should be more cautious.
I am already fucking cautious – I have been taught to fear – because I am a girl, because I am not like my chosen enemy, because fear will save me?
That fear lingers and never goes away.
And it makes me so angry that it is so necessary.
Love is Love and Love Yourself.

Confidence and Confidants

This past little while I have noticed more empowerment and more badassery from women than I ever have.
I am so lucky to live in a community that has these little treasure pockets of women uplifting each other and supporting one another no matter what.
I am even more lucky to have found them.
Imagine the ones who haven’t – the ones who really need encouragement and motivation. Yet, they are moving forward themselves, step by step, just like the rest of us.
We don’t all know each other intimately. We don’t confess our secrets, our struggles or our dreams. We live next to each other. We go to work together. We sometimes gather together in small community groups, just treading the surface of what these connections could in reality be.
To someone who hasn’t made any connection at all, we are ahead by a mile.
We all deserve the same opportunities to connect, be uplifted and empowered. There are some of us who don’t have the confidence to step outside the boundaries which we have confined ourselves in.
Sometimes it takes a hand reaching in to pull them out.
I am not sure on which side of the fence I lay.
Some days I am the one extending my hand and other days I wait for that hand to reach me.
SXLLMYup. My hand looks weird like this.
I am not sure if you read my post titled “Let’s Play” or not, but it was about a local woman I saw running in my neighborhood with her child.
I still haven’t found Running Mom, but a brave soul reached out to me anyway after reading that post.
She understood what it is like to be a stay at home mom – the loneliest job ever.
This job gives me way too much time for reflection. She got that shit.
It is women like that who empower others.
Nope, she isn’t a motivational speaker.
Nope, she doesn’t charge money for sit-down-and-talk sessions.
She just saw someone who needed a hand and she extended one.
That’s confidence building shiz.
That is someone saying “Here I am.” and not giving a crap about how they will be judged for reaching out to a complete stranger.
We need more of this.
We don’t have cliques anymore.
We have communities.
Let’s build them.
Love Yourself,

Another Level

I am a pretty thick skinned person, for the most part.
You can call me crazy, call me a bitch, call me thick – I don’t really care.
Myself being thick skinned has no relation to others and how they feel when they are put down, harassed or judged for just being themselves.
I talk about the media a lot and how we have had images and messages ingrained into our brains that are unhealthy and downright harmful to our self-esteems and our self-images.
Yes, those messages suck.
Not all of us are a size two and walk around with perfect hair, face paint, confidence, style…whatever-we-are-told-to-be.
But, some of us are able to pull that off – and now the new-age message being sent is also one where we are permitted to ridicule those people for doing so. It is a flip side I don’t want to be on.
So, I want to challenge that:
Thin is not better than Thick.
Thick is not better than Thin.
Red Lips are not worn by whores.
Confidence is not the sign of a bitch.
Not all bitches are confident.
We all have good hair days.
Fumbling through Facebook with a friend, we stumbled upon a woman wearing bright red lipstick and my friend said, “She only wears it to attract a man.”
I was dumbfounded – Number one, she rocked the red.
But NUMBER TWO – This #2 might kick you in the balls…
“So what?” said Number Two.
“What is wrong with trying to attract someone?
What if she is just fucking lonely and wants a partner?
Is it so wrong that she thinks red lips are attractive?
We all deserve to be happy.
Maybe this will make her happy.”
I am not quite sure how one picture of one woman wearing red lipstick automatically jumped to the conclusion that the red lips were for anyone else’s enjoyment but her own.
Even if they are for someone else, why would we care?
What part of us decides that we can take one small aspect of how someone holds themselves and turn it into a negative?
Is it our own insecurity?
Maybe we are recognizing our own intentions if it were us doing the exact same thing?
I can’t be sure as I am not you and you are not me.
I do know as I try to love myself more, I am finding I love others a little more too and ridicule a little less.
We are all having our own struggles. We all see ourselves negatively sometimes and are being told how to change, how to be better and what we are doing wrong so often – it should be a good thing when our confidence shines and we are able to wear our red lips.
I truly and honestly hope that there are more people out there who care less about what other people are doing enough that this never crossed their minds.
Maybe some of you are at a point in life where you love yourself enough that what others do is understandable in all aspects.
We should be friends.
Love Yourself,

Motivational Tips and Wine Lips

I ran 26 total kilometers in May. Ok, I may have walked most of that.
I had a goal of 50km and fell short – just a little under halfway short.
About ten days before the end of May, I knew I was no where near my goal, but I decided that rather than giving up, I was going to just go as far as I could
That’s saying a lot more about me than one might think.
I often give up on goals because I fear they are unattainable.
I will get so excited for my initial idea and I will give it my all for a short while, then the excitement fades, and the idea fades with it.
Sometimes I need my own little motivational coach that could encourage me to keep going, or suck it up if need be. Sadly, I can’t afford that shit.
Instead I rely on myself and that can be a tricky situation.
It is so easy to convince yourself to give up.
One day you are flying high with creativity and ideas, the next day you feel like a cold cup of coffee… there were good intentions there, but now you taste like disappointment.
What I have learned so far in life is that disappointing others because you haven’t reached  a goal is rare. Nobody else really cares that I didn’t make it to 50km this month.
What really sucks is when you let yourself down. You don’t get over it as easy.
What’s worse? When it becomes a habit.
That’s when the nastiness sets in. The self-doubt. The negative talk. The feeling of failure.
How do we break that cycle?
Well, I can tell you there probably isn’t an internet meme or motivational quote that will get you out of a rut.
Not even this post will help. I can blabber all day long on here if I want to, but it isn’t going to help anyone who doesn’t actually want it.
What I am trying to say is:
It has to come from within yourself.
It is a mental hurdle, not a physical one. No one can guide you over that gate except yourself.
One hundred people could surround you and tell you to, “GO, GO, GO!”, but you have to take the steps.
I know this from experience.
I also learned that when you don’t hit a goal, it doesn’t mean you stop – cause that’s real failure right there. That’s when it hurts your heart the most.
I know this is a lot of blah blah blah and self-righteousness talking. I am writing this at night and I think I might have had a tad too much wine.
One question I do have tonight – why didn’t anyone ever tell me about wine lips?
I didn’t know they were a thing. I find it hilarious that so many of us tell each other how live our lives and how to motivate ourselves, but we aren’t willing to tell each other when we have a booger or the fact that even though we have been mingling and chatting with a roomful of people, we have been doing it with red wine lips.
So take this advice from me, if anything at all:
Bring chapstick when you drink the red.
Love Yourself,


21 Days of Blogging

*note – in the process of moving my blog from a different site, they may be out of order.
This is my 21st post.
Three full weeks of blogs – let your friends with time to kill know.
I often find myself with so much to say internally, but it can be a bit of a challenge to make those thoughts interesting enough to engage other people.
Here’s hoping some of these posts have touched or resonated with someone, somewhere, somehow… otherwise I am just talking to myself.
A group of us were at a friend’s house around this time last year and we saw something extraordinary. On the horizon, spanning from one end of the property to the other was a glorious double rainbow.

Now, if you haven’t seen or heard of the Double Rainbow Guy on YouTube, you need to check him out. He is tripping balls over seeing one, and it was pretty much our exact reactions as well.
We took pictures and had pictures taken of us frolicking under the arch.
It was a sign.
It was a sign of good things to come.
I have had some amazing people reach out to me and tell me how much this blog reminds them of their own lives.
I am just a misguided, stumbling, semi-crazed person asking the questions I probably should have been asking a decade ago.
Who am I, really?
What do I want for myself?
How do I make that into something that I can share with the ones I love?
How can I make a positive difference?
So many questions and the only answers are ones I need to find within myself.
I don’t expect to have found those answers in the short time I have been blogging.
Dang, I might not ever know what I really want to do with myself.
This isn’t a cure, it is an outlet.
It is some sort of double rainbow in my eyes.
It gives me a feeling of self-evaluation, humbleness and a bit of courage as well. I wouldn’t be able to hit the publish button without these things.
There are good things to come, double rainbow style.
I just want to thank you for tuning in.
Love Yourself,

2 Kids… & Done Counting

Probably the number one highly criticized and self-doubted role of a woman is her ability to raise the future generation of humans.
We live in a world where everyone’s opinions are heard. We are connected at our fingertips, yet we can be as anonymous as we please. It can be a very conflicting atmosphere.
We are often told that raising children is the single most important or fulfilling role we can take.
We are also often called “breeders” if we choose to do so.
I imagined myself as a mother in some form since I was a little girl.
I thought by the time I was 24 (ancient) I would have three children and be married to the boy I had a crush on in elementary school. I also imagined I would have a Nanny.
None of these things happened.
MLXLSMyself and my oldest...many moons ago.
I had my first child at the ripe ol’ age of 18. We were buds.
Her life depended on me almost solely and I depended on her to help me grow into my new role.
It would be 11.5 years before I delivered my second.
People thought I was crazy for having my children so far apart.
Truth is, it was for the best.
I don’t believe I was meant to be a mother to more than one small child at a time.
I have a hard time focusing on myself and getting everything done with one Hellraiser – I am not sure how I would cope having multiples.
Yes, I hear those thoughts in everyone’s head, “when are you going to have another?”, “wouldn’t it be great for her to have a sibling close to her age.”
Answers: “Probably never” and, “She’ll never know.”
My husband and I both struggled with this for a while.
Hell, we struggled with the thought of having children together, period.
We flip-flopped a lot – and not just between the sheets.
We enjoyed our time together as a unit with my oldest daughter being his step-child.
Every other weekend and sometimes more when the oldest went to her Dad’s or friend’s or wherever, we were given the time to do as we pleased and learn about each other fully.
Then it happened.
We were married for about three years, together for seven in total, when Husband looked at me and said, “I think there is more to life than this.”
I was pregnant in a month.
We have devoted our time and energy to these two girls almost to a breaking point at times.
The second time around has been much different than my first.
I am with this child 24/7 and always on call.
She doesn’t spend every other weekend away with other family.
She doesn’t go to daycare while I work.
We are practically one unit.
SXLLMMy youngest and I. Blurry to reduce my wrinkles.
Thank God my teenaged daughter is so independent and understanding.
She was the most low-key, laid-back child ever. Her little sister is a total 180° from that and needs much more from me in terms of attention and direction.
So when people ask us when we will have another, our answers have gone from longing looks with grins, to “We’re not” pretty quickly.
We sometimes think about how our lives would be different if we had another, and I think that is normal.
I have friends who have multiple children under the age of five years old.
God freakin’ bless their souls.
Seriously, I am not sure how they do it. How you manage to juggle the kids/lovers/households/jobs without completely losing yourself in there somewhere?
Props to you and good fuckin’ luck.
Have seven children, have two children, have zero.
Whatever choice you make needs to come from within you and not from some outside influence telling you what is right and wrong and how to do it.
There is no wrong amount of babies, there is no wrong or right time to have them.
As long as you were meant to love with the hand you were dealt, that’s what matters the most.
For me, I am going to love with everything I have.
It is also OK and so important for me to also focus on reintroducing myself to…myself.
Love Yourself,

No Adulting.

Sorry, Mum.
I was never taught how to clean properly and this post will be most boring to anyone who was.
I grew up in a household with five older sisters and one older brother. Dad often worked away for months at a time, and Mum always worked.
By any of my siblings standards, I was spoiled rotten.
I was so much younger than any of the rest that often the chores would get passed over me. On more than one occasion one of my sisters would create a chore chart.
It would last a week.
One in a while my parents would threaten me with grounding or something or other in order for me to be persuaded into cleaning my room. Dad called it a “pig-sty” on many occasions.
Of course, once in a while I would feel compelled to switch around my bedroom furniture and end up cleaning my room without prompting. Mum would be a little furious seeing my mountain of laundry fall down the laundry chute.
Now I understand why she flipped her lid.
If laundry is my Nemesis, then general housecleaning is its Main Bitch.
There is only one thing I hate worse than cleaning and that is when someone fucks my cleaning up.
Oh, you’re gonna come in and make a sandwich and not clean up your breadcrumbs? On my freshly cleaned kitchen counters, you are going to deface them with your bread droppings?
Why the hell didn’t you straighten the tablecloth after you left the table?
No, I am not obsessive compulsive. My house is rarely spotless and I don’t bust a tit if our general living causes messes. The problem is when I spend all day cleaning and someone decides to defile my efforts.
Bitch better recognize. RESPECT.
This is probably the single most aggravating part of being a stay at home mom.
You go to work and get something done and it is most often done, forever. Project complete.
Housework is a neverending cycle. Not only that, it is the least appreciated until someone notices you haven’t done it in a while.
Just this morning Husband decided to cook breakfast. What he didn’t know when he opened his eyes in bed and exclaimed, “I SHALL COOK BREAKY!” is that the pan he wanted to use didn’t get washed after someone used it the night before.
Well FUCK ME. That meant he had to clean the pan, and the entire kitchen.
He didn’t get angry or anything, but he did ask for my help.
Have I gotten this guy so used to having a clean kitchen that he doesn’t know how to do it himself?
What about my fucking Long Weekend?
Oh right – no weekends over here in Stay At Home Mom Land.
Even Mother’s Day has a point where you feel like “Shit, I gotta clean up all this crap tomorrow because I was told to relax today and not worry.”
It makes you want to tell everyone to leave. Get out. Don’t touch a damn thing.
No wonder our Mothers of Olde were always telling us to go play outdoors – at least we didn’t tussle anything up in the house that way.
Anyway, breakfast was made this morning and it wasn’t made by me, so I am thankful.
However, now I sit and look at the devastation caused by not being “On” all weekend and think about my day tomorrow. A full day of cleaning. Wonderful.
It will be a day where I don’t play with Toddler for extended periods.
My dog will not be walked. Cookies will not be made.
I might not have time to put on makeup.
I might not even “have time” to put on pants.
Fuck pants. That’s just more laundry.
Love Your-pantless-self,
PS) I was on the ball and wrote this post on Monday evening. Winnnnnnning.