It was a little past her bedtime when I tucked in my precious six-year-old for the night, since reading time with Daddy had gone long this evening. She was being extra cute tonight, too, and she knew it. Curly blond locks wild, as usual, and splayed out in all directions on her pillow, while she looked at me with those deep brown eyes — eyes so deep you could lose yourself in them. Then she furrowed her soft brow and pursed her little lips — all signs that I needed to lower my face closer so I could be the recipient of a very wet kiss. I obliged, and she pecked me right on the mouth a few times, while she looked at me, moon-eyed.
“I love you … Ma-ma …” She said in the sleepy baby voice that I always fall for. Continue reading
If you are like me, you have a “just fine” relationship with vegetables. By “just fine,” of course, I mean that you’d be willing to go on a polite date with vegetables, listen to the boring stories vegetables tell and even laugh at vegetables’ jokes, and have a perfectly fine evening with vegetables because you know vegetables are good for you, but the whole time you are eyeing that saucy creme brûlée at the next table, or that salty, greasy bad-boy bag of chips that your friend is with.
And, if you’re like me, this isn’t just the case for yourself, but for your whole family as well. Let’s face it — at snack time, who wants to reach for a handful of carrots when there is a bag of delicious salt and vinegar chips in the cupboard? Of course the obvious answer is that you should not purchase the chips in the first place, but life is short, so instead of smack-talking chips, let’s fix that relationship with veggies. Continue reading
9:28 AM: Me, to my children: “Okay, Guys. You both need to get dressed. We’re leaving for Grandma’s house just after 11 AM.”
Children go into their room. Sounds of laughter and playing.
9:42 AM: Walk into room. Both children are still in pyjamas, but now they are sprawled on the floor playing with toys. UPDATE: Room is now a huge mess.
Me: “KIDS. You need to get dressed. I just did the laundry and there are TONS of clean clothes in your closet. Please. Get dressed.” Continue reading
It’s Saturday night, and tomorrow is Father’s Day, so that means it’s time for me, Juli, to start thinking about Father’s Day. Thank goodness for elementary school because the crafts and cards are all taken care of. All that’s left to do is this blog post list listing the reasons I appreciate my baby-daddy, Spence.
Caution: this list might get a bit steamy, so be warned. This ain’t your grandmother’s baby-daddy appreciation list: Continue reading
Lately my five-year-old daughter has become increasingly picky about her clothes. This is made exponentially more frustrating by the fact that I continue to buy her cute clothes that she will never wear, it is getting harder and harder to get her out the door on the morning, and also, with what she ends up wearing, the teachers at her school probably think that she is homeless.
I have stooped to bribing her to put on the odd Christmas or Easter dress, but for the most part, she lives her life looking like a Rainbow Brite bag lady, slummin’ it up all over the place, and she loves it. When I ever so gently (or ever so forcefully) attempt to choose her clothes for her, here are some of the very REAL reasons that she has given me for why she could never wear the things I have chosen: Continue reading
A lot of tough emotions come up around Mother’s Day. Many people have a really difficult time when Mother’s Day comes around, for very good reasons. They can have lost their own mother, or one or more of their children – or lost the ability to be a mother. Some women have struggled with fertility issues for years, so mother’s day really pokes them in a sore place, emotionally. They may have a strained relationship with their own mom, or have faced abandonment from her. It is my utmost intention to be as gentle as possible to all people on Mother’s Day, knowing that it can be a dark day for some people, a day when they need gentleness, a day of mourning. For some, Mother’s Day is a bittersweet day, full of complex emotions. They may have both things to celebrate and things to mourn. Perhaps they have some children here on earth, and some in heaven, so they only get to hug half of their children on Mother’s Day. Continue reading
I am not a Runner. I should clarify that I define a “Runner” as someone who does it at least semi-regularly, and somewhat enjoys it. I don’t really enjoy running for the sake of running, and this is largely to do with my huge sense of practicality. If I have somewhere to go, yes, I could run there, but it is faster to take the car. Also, usually where I have to go is to Costco to get groceries, and that involves having something to transport them with. Thus it never usually seems like a good idea to run.
But when I heard back in February that my workplace was sponsoring a corporate team to do the Vancouver Sun Run, a 10 kilometre run through the streets of downtown Vancouver, I thought — hey! That might be fun! Also, I realized that I would get a free shirt out of it, and that they would be paying for it (there’s the appeal to the practical side) and I was quite sure that by April I would be fit as a fiddle based on my strict regimen of occasional yoga and sneaking my kids’ Easter candy, so I decided that of course I should run the Sun Run! In fact, it made no sense NOT to! Continue reading
For me, this Spring Break has been … difficult. Now that my work is very full-time and my husband’s work is also full-time, and my children are both in school, I have become accustomed to the amount of time I have to do my work either after I drop my kids at school, or before I pick them up from school, and Spring Break does not fit very well into this plan. Also, Spring Break has apparently introduced a new word into my children’s vocabulary, a word that I happen to despise. I call it the “b-word” because for me it is worse than the original “b-word” (I may change my mind on that if my children start using the original one, though).
The “b-word” to which I am referring is the word “bored.” An example of it’s use is in the following exchange:
“I’m BORED, Mommy!” Continue reading
Tonight I found myself alone at home, after my two kids miraculously fell asleep without incident, and my husband went out for the evening with some friends. And because I do not usually have evenings to myself, I figured out some ideas of what to do and will share these ideas now, for your benefit, just in case you also manage to have an evening to yourself in the not-too-distant future. Disclaimer: In order for these to work properly, make sure you have a full glass of wine and are properly pyjama-ed before beginning any of these activities. Continue reading
I was scrolling through my Facebook feed the other day, as one does, when I came upon a sponsored article with this title: “The best-dressed moms on the red carpet!” and then later, this one: “Hot moms who rocked the red carpet!” The title photo for the first article featured the stunning Olivia Wilde (who apparently delivered a baby recently, but unless I see some kind of DNA proof there is no way I will ever believe that). You see, Facebook likes to show me sponsored stuff that it thinks I will find interesting or relatable, which seems to be anything mom-related, or recipe-related (joke’s on you, Facebook! I don’t make recipes!), or ads for that Jamie-Lee Curtis yogurt that helps you have better poops. But when I saw that article it became clear that Facebook does not really know me very well after all. Because, you see, I don’t like when women are sorted into categories from whence to be evaluated physically — specifically, the categories of mom and non-mom. Continue reading