Cosmic bullshit or just a bad week?

You have heard the saying “when things start to go right is when everything will go wrong”.. or something like that – I just paraphrased. Well, welcome to my current predicament.

For years, I have trucked along, perfectly content with the complacency that my life had become. It was not boring, but it was no longer absolute chaos – and I was happy with that.

But lately, I have decided to two-fist some bulls balls and take control, and point my life in an entirely new direction. I started reading more again, I started working on my insides, I started working out every day, I started eating better again, I started focusing on the relationships I care deeply about, I started ignoring the shit and the toxic people, I decided to remove things from my life that don’t bring me joy (except my skinny clothes – they bum me out now, but one day I hope to fit in them again, which will then bring me joy), I found a group of women who are on the same path as me and lift me up on a daily basis, I started focusing my entire attention on my kids when they are around, I started digging deep with my kids to make sure they know at their core that they are total superstars, I ordered my sons CGM (continuous glucose monitor) which is going to give all of us a lot more freedom and peace of mind, I started focusing on my husband and what made me fall in love with him in the first place, I started working to make my marriage as strong as possible (it has never been weak or shaky, but I want it to be stronger than ever), I started looking into possible schooling for me, I started figuring out what I want to do with my life (for real, I feel like I am in grade 11 and trying to figure out what I want to be when I grow up.. it is DAUNTING!)… basically, to summate, I started fixing me and gluing back together the busted shards that had previously been left laying on the floor.

However, what is lining up with all of this self-improvement? Oh right, shit and chaos. I am kicking the couch and coffee table legs every time I walk by, I am dropping and spilling things, I am forgetting appointments, I am crying a lot, I am finding myself insanely impatient with my kids, I am letting bullshit from 7-10 years ago seep into my present and wreak havoc, I am losing things, I am having insane dreams that are making me feel like I haven’t slept, I am sore, I kinked my neck, I am having stomach issues, I am just all around feeling like a worthless piece of crap that isn’t worthy of anything. I am letting every poisonous bullshit garbage thing anyone has ever said to me settle in my brain and take up permanent residence. It is not fun.

So am I just having a bad week? Or is the universe shitting on my parade, like some bastard vengeful pigeon, because I am finally on the right path. I am finally done with all of the drama and bullshit and hurt and pain and anger and vengeance… is it a bad day? Or is it the start of a great life?

I have no fucking idea! I have a lot of hurt in my past. I have been damaged to the point of pieces of me being obliterated and lost forever. I know I am not perfect. I know I will always be broken. I know that I will always have trust issues and I know that there will always be people I never quite fully let (back) in. And that is okay. That is just who I am. But I am also loving and caring and kind and compassionate and thoughtful and smart and funny and strong and feisty and stubborn and generous and (somewhat) forgiving. So maybe focusing on all of the good instead of letting the past bad hurt me is creating some ruffles in the universe. Maybe I finally blasted my way off of the path I didn’t want to be on, and am finally on the one that I always hoped I would find.

Whatever is happening, I am just gonna keep pushing. I am not going to let some minor setbacks in my life alter where I know I want to go. And if there are people in my life who enjoyed the chaos more, and don’t think I can actually pull this shit off… may I introduce to you the door. Step out and close it behind you. Because I am hard enough on myself. I don’t need any more outside help with that. I am not here to entertain people with my life. I am over that shit. It is behind me, and the spectators should be, too. There are a few people who come to mind while talking about this.. and they played a very big part in my “worthless” campaign over the last few days. Those people are as good as dead to me now. I will still smile and be polite, but they are 100% behind me and on the other side of my wall now. And in my life, there is exactly one person who ever came back after being shunned – and I married him. I assure you no one else will ever make that sort of a comeback.

So. Once again… bad day or a cosmic shitfest? I don’t know. But I intend on finding out. But in the meantime, if I could just stop kicking shit, that would be great. My toes are so sore.

Do you even resolution, dude?

Well, Christmas is over… trees and decorations are beginning to be stored (mine has been down since Christmas day night.. hahahaa), money is starting to go back onto peoples well-used credit cards, shelves are beginning to be re-stocked, and all the boxing day sales are in full-swing.

I love Christmas lights. Not having lights on in my house is one of my favorite things, and at Christmas, that goal is always met. It is just so comforting to sit in the living room under the glow of your tree. But I am not going to lie, I quite enjoy the cleanliness that accompanies an un-decorated house.

And with the clean houses and boxed up sparkly shit comes a whole other season – resolution season! When people vow to be better, smarter, skinnier, healthier, kinder, funnier, more outdoorsy, spend less time online, spend more time with their kids, read more, laugh more, learn more, do more, love more, hate less… bla fucking bla.

Did you know that more than 80% of all resolutions are broken by February 1st? I am sure that number is incorrect (because I just made it up without the nuisance of actually researching it… hahahaha… maybe I should resolve to be more sleuthy) But I do know that a great deal of them fall by the wayside before Valentines Day.

Why? What the hell is so wrong (and difficult) with being a better person? Why must we resolve to not suck, and then why must we suck so hard that we forget about our resolutions and just become our old shitty selves? WHY!?

Okay, maybe not everyone is a shitty person, sure. But I still think that people should all try to be better. And not just because it is January 1st. Who gives a flying shit-wheel what day of the year it is.. don’t suck and don’t be a shitty person!

What are your resolutions this year? Do you have any that don’t drip of typical cliché?

Me? I don’t really do resolutions. I try to be a better version of me every single day. And it doesn’t always work out (which is leading me to believe that I am so perfect that there isn’t anything to fix… LMFAO! Sorry, excuse me while I clean myself up, because I just laughed myself silly)

I think resolutions are good for getting people up and off the couch, for sales at bookstores and fitness stores, for the membership desks at gyms… but I am not sold on the entire premise. January 1st just means that you need a new calendar (for real, do people even use calendars anymore!? I do, cuz I am a mom and that’s what we do.. but normal people? Calendars? Anyone!?) January 1st does not mean that you need to completely change who you are. I do enjoy that people try to be better – I just wish it lasted for more than the coldest month of the year. Perhaps that is the problem – people get sick of bettering themselves while their lungs are aching from the cold and their nostrils at freezing shut. This year is not cold though people, so you just lost your excuse!

Honestly though… I want to read more, I want to get my book published, I want to go back to school, I want to be a better mom, a better wife, a better friend, a better person, I want to travel more, I want to expand my vocabulary, I want to learn Italian, I want to beat my thyroid and lose this fucking weight once and for all… some people see these as “resolutions”… I just see them as a checklist to be my best self.

resolution: the act of finding an answer or solution to a conflict, problem, etc

I do not see myself as a “problem” that requires fixing. Perhaps therein lays the problem – people need to stop seeing themselves as problems, and just start trying to be happy.

“Problem” solved.

Finding the me in the lonely.. 

I have been feeling lonely lately. I don’t know if it’s because the days are shorter (not actually, as they’re still 24 hours, but just so damned much darkness), or if it’s because of the time of year and thinking of people I’ve lost over the years, if it’s some bizarre festive depression-like shit, or if I’m just sad. Who fucking knows – it could be hormonal (thanks, thyroid) 

But what I do know is, I have to find me in the lonely. I know I’m in there somewhere, I just have to keep digging. 

I’ve lost some people over the years, and it continues to sting. Some of the people I’ve lost, I’ve all but forgotten about. But some will never fade into the background. And Christmas is always harder on you when you miss someone. 

But why do I feel lonely? I’m not sure. Maybe it’s not lonely; perhaps its that I am listless. I have lots of lists (thanks, type a) but I feel like I should be going somewhere, doing something, and I’m not. But what? Where? 

I have some plans for 2017 and I’m hoping it will help shed some light on my darkness. What I do know for sure is, more people will be fading into the background, and I’m okay with that. One thing I have no doubt about – some people need to go away. Some people are toxic and I need not have that sludge any longer. I don’t know why I held on for so long. Perhaps because it’s what society has said is right. 

Well fuck society. 

I will finish off this year as best as I can and will as much strength as I can garner. And then maybe, just maybe, I will be able to find the me in the lonely, and she can, once again, be set free. 

I’ve lost myself over the years. Smiling at people who don’t deserve smiles. Letting things go that deserved a fight. Allowing poor treatment when a punch was more deserving. I need to find me. And I think that will abolish the lonely. 

Maybe I’m not lonely. I think, maybe, the more likely story is, I’m lost. 

With everything they have..

I think we can all agree, people are different. And I don’t necessarily mean in a “wow, she has multiple screws loose” kind of different, but different in the fact that we are all fucked in our own special way.

Yes. Fucked. I said it. You know why? Because normal is just an enigma, and it is one that far too many strive for, when they/we should just accept our screwballiness and totally rage in the face of insanity.

Moving on..

When people find other people who fit into their particular funny shaped opening (don’t be a pervert) it is a special moment. And it is one that you should revel in. Make shirts. Throw a party. Crack those obnoxiously messy new years thingys. Do it. You know you want to.

Whether it comes in the form or a friend, or someone who is more than a friend, hold on tight. There is so much ugly in the world, it is amazing to find something that brightens and improves your life.

Friends are so great – they are the family you got to choose. I have some people who I’ve added to my family, and I feel so lucky to have them in my life. And some great family. And then there’s my husband. Damnit, he is my person. My everything. My forever.

(yes this is all leading somewhere)

This is why I get so SHOCKED that people just chuck other people away because they don’t feel like they love them enough. WHAT?!

I’ve heard of the most absurd breakups. One time, I heard a story from my friend, about some girl she knew who broke up her very long term relationship because her live-in boyfriend didn’t fluff the throw cushions properly, or put the cap back on the toothpaste efficiently. Holy shit. Remember when I said people were fucked? Yep. Case and point!

People, just because someone doesn’t love you in the way you feel you should be, doesn’t mean they aren’t loving you in the only way they know, or with everything that they’ve got.

My friends are busy and have their own lives. Do I fault them for not replying to texts in a timely fashion, of which I deem acceptable? No. They are great and amazing people, and they will get back to me when they can. I never expected to be a higher priority than their job, or spouse, or kids!

My husband doesn’t clean the way I do, or obsess over absurd shit like I do. Do I fault him for not being the same Type A lunatic that I am, or doing things the way I do, or expect him to? Fuck no! He is who he is, and he is who I fell in love with. I didn’t fall in love with him because he could fluff a mean pillow, or he perfectly organized the pantry.. I already did that shit, so I feel like if we both did, there would be a power struggle. So this works.

They love me. They love me in the way that they can, in the capacity that they can, in their own special and fucked up way.

Just because someone doesn’t love you the way you think they should, doesn’t make it wrong. We are all fucked, just try and find the people who are the same level of fuckiness as you, and hold on with both hands.

Oh look, another dumb post..


We are sitting smack-dab in the middle of a very important month (to us, anyway).

November is DIABETES AWARENESS MONTH, and while to most that means nothing, to us, it means the world!

Our son was diagnosed on November 9th, 2015. And we were in the hospital, learning how to keep him alive at this time last month, so we didn’t really even know what the month represented. To us, it was just the month that we celebrated our youngest sons birthday, and me and my husbands wedding anniversary. Now, it means so much more.

So, in an attempt to educate, advocate and get the word out about what almost took our boy away from us forever, I’ve been posting things about diabetes every day. And do you know what I have noticed? Really, nobody gives two shits! (except for the people it also directly affects, with the exception of VERY few)

I am sure there are people (family included) who sit behind their screens and scoff every time I make a diabetes post. And do you know what I have to say to them? “I hope something horrible never happens to you or your children.. because this sucks. And on another note, go sit and spin, you self-indulged asshats” And while that may lose me some people, that’s okay. Because at the end of the day, do I need those people in my life? The people who don’t really care that we are trying to teach people about what our life has become? No, I certainly do NOT.

Because while it may be seen as an inconvenience to see yet another diabetes post “clogging” your news feed, I can assure you, what it has done to our life is FAR WORSE and harder to deal with. And I can assure you, the people I am referring to are the ones who clog up their own news feeds with the most insignificant drivel, ridiculous re-posts, bullshit that doesn’t really affect anyone, worldly advice (that they probably don’t incorporate into their lives but want to sound worldly), or posts to flaunt their shit and things. And chances are good I am thinking the same thing about your posts.. “Oh look, another dumb post…”(PSA: this is directed at no one person in particular… just a generalization. So don’t go getting your panties into a knot if you fall into an aforementioned category)

That’s fine. Everyone is entitled to their own life and opinion. And I am not going to sit here and say that I have never posted drivel or inspirational crap, because I have. But I am also trying to bring light and understanding to a disease that was days away from stealing my baby from me, forever.

Until you have watched your own child fading away, begging for help and peace, crying over their tiny wrists and protruding hip bones, losing sleep over what is wrong with them, losing sleep over the possibility of losing them every single night, losing sleep over their insulin dose, why their numbers are so high, what did they eat, knowing every carbohydrate that enters their mouth, forcing water down their throat, crying because this is their fucking life now… until you have lived the hell, you will never get it.

I am going to continue posting about my son, because who knows who it might help. The symptoms masquerade themselves as so many different things. Our son was sick for a long time before his diagnosis, and it was written off as a multitude of different reasons. That’s what it does – it hides in the corner, wearing different masks, and lures your child into the darkness.. and for lots of kids, they never come out of the darkness, and they’re lost forever. Luckily, I am very stubborn and knew better. Lots of parents aren’t so lucky.

So THAT… that is why I am posting every day. Because someone might get to hear their child laugh for another day because of something I said. And that means more to me than likes and comments and activity on my posts.

So you keep posting what you want to, and I’ll keep posting about this. We can both coexist, and that is fine. I just hope, to these people who find more importance in their ridiculous shit on facebook than showing support to an 11 year old who fights a beast every single minute of every day, that nothing ever happens to your family or children. Because it is a different story when that coin is flipped.. and let me tell you, it is awfully lonely on this side of the coin.

People just don’t get it until they get it. And I pray to shit, you never get it.

 

Fucking participation medals…

We are living in a different world than I grew up in. When I was a kid, if you failed at something, you tried harder. If you sucked at something, you either tried to master it, or you moved on to something else. If you didn’t study, you got a great big F on your paper/test. We were taught that failing was part of life, and you got back what you put in.

Nowadays, asses are patted, and everyone wins. No one fails, even if they don’t know shit. Everyone is included. And even if you don’t know what you’re doing, you get a participation medal/ribbon.

What the fuck is that!? We are raising a society of sniveling little punk ass bitches, who’s feelings are more important than reality, and they feel entitled and deserving of everything, even if they just straight up do NOT.

My kids played sports, but score wasn’t kept. They all came home with ribbons and medals, just for showing up. That is shit. I kept score! Cuz you know what, if you don’t know you suck, how are you ever going to get better!?

My son just finished his second season of volleyball. And almost all of the parents and coaches are all like “good try!” even when the ball wasn’t touched, was way out, or their set smashed them in their face. No way dude… I was the parent on the sidelines going, “SERIOUSLY! the ball doesn’t hit the floor! use your kneepads! GO! watch the tip!!!” They won’t get better if they think that effort is satisfactory. Now, I am not one of the crazy sport parents who berate their child, other children, refs, coaches or parents. But I made sure my son knew how to play so he would improve. Nothing wrong with that.

Now shifting gears; my little dudes bday party is this weekend. And when we did the Kindergarten orientation, the teacher said “birthday invites – you invite all the girls, all the boys, the entire class, or you do it quietly away from the classroom” So, that is what we did. We stalked parents for days, figuring out who belonged to whom, and when the time came, we handed the invites TO THE PARENTS, in the parking lot, away from the watchful eyes of the children. None of the kids even knew they were invited.

Did this stop the drama? Oh, fuck no.

At another childs birthday party, I was accosted and hollered at by one mother, who angrily sat on the bench beside me (and was hunting me down on facebook while she was flipping shit on me, but I didn’t know this until the day after) and asked me when my sons bday party was. I said “ehhh” because I was about to inform her that he was only allowed to invite 3 boys and 3 girls, as we were having it at our home. But before any actual words came out of my mouth, she hollered at me and accused me of lying to her. Told me she knew I didn’t invite her son, and then proceeded to accuse me of lying to her. In the middle of this boys birthday party. I bit my tongue, rolled my eyes (there was literally no avoiding that) and told the other moms who were standing there dumbfounded, that I would see them on Monday. And I left. And I later learned that another mom defended me after I left, and this other woman complained about me for a while after I was already gone. And then I learned that she was bad mouthing me to other parents!

What the actual hell, woman. This is total horseshit, and completely unnecessary behavior. SHE is the one who told her son that he wasn’t invited. SHE is the one who spread it around to the other kids and parents. SHE is the one who lost her shit at a 5 year olds birthday party and created a scene. And SHE is the one who accosted me again, at my sons birthday presentation at school. Again, she came up to me, all red faced and angry, and asked me why I excluded ONLY her son.

This is never going to end. She is also bad mouthing and shit talking me on facebook in a mommy chat page (I am not on that page any more, because I can not stand the bullshit drama and cattiness of most women). I am over this. Her son is a bully and has attacked 2 of my children. My son doesn’t want to go to school anymore because of this child, so why the hell would I allow that into his safe space!?

Give your fucking head a shake, and maybe some of the crazy will escape. Because I am straight up finished with the bullshit and drama. Your kid wasn’t invited. I didn’t punch him. I didn’t yell at him. I didn’t “nah nah nah nah boo boo” him in front of everyone.

The entire world isn’t fair, isn’t always inclusive, and isn’t always going to shit skittle rainbows.

Fucking participation medals. A world full of over-sensitive bitches and spoiled rotten entitled little snot nosed brats.

 

 

The lasts of the firsts..

Tonight is just the same as any other night. It is Sunday in November. But while today is just like any other day, it is completely different – we are about to experience yet another last of the firsts.

My youngest turns 5 tomorrow. Five. I can barely wrap my head around this. And while he has already started school (another last of the firsts, as it was the last time we had a first day of school) this birthday is hitting me harder than most have in the past. Five feels big. It feels like he is no longer my baby, but this little tiny human who has this whole life that I am no longer a part of.

He is my last baby. I am not having any more. He completed our family. He was the last time I would be on the maternity floor at a hospital. He was the last bottle made for a 2am feeding. He was the last first time rolling over. He was the last time learning to crawl. He was the last first steps. He was the last first tooth. He was the last first giggle. He was the last first night in a big bed. He was the last first time riding a bike. He was the last first lost tooth. He was the last first day of school.

He is the last of the firsts.

And I know we have a lot of firsts to go through; not only with him, but with our other 2 boys (and there are firsts coming with them, as they are 11 and 13!! those are new firsts that I am not quite prepared for!!!) it is really sad to be closing the chapter on the first firsts. The baby firsts. The tiny heads and sweet noises, and the immense pride that you can only feel when you watch your tiny human do something for the first time; something you take for granted, like smiling, laughing, talking, walking, not shitting your pants…

He is turning 5. I remember where I was at this time 5 years ago. I had just dropped my older two off for the week, as I knew I was having a C-section on Tuesday morning. My husband (then boyfriend, because we like to do things out of order, and don’t conform to what society says is right and proper, and also because I swore I would never get married again..) and I had our entire day planned, for our last day without our baby. He came home from work, we watched SportsCenter (as we always did in the mornings), I went downstairs to get some cereal and wanted sugar, but the only sugar we had was that stupid paper bag of Rogers sugar, and it was on the top shelf of the pantry. I grabbed it and it fell on me, and exploded all over the kitchen. I remember laughing hysterically as I called Trevor to come rescue me from my current sticky predicament. We laughed, I ate, and then showered. And while he was getting out of the shower, he smashed his baby toe on the edge of the tub, and busted it wide open. This maybe isn’t something normal to remember, but it comes out again in the story. Then his mother showed up, as she was planning on coming to the hospital the next day, as she had never been in the room for a grandchild being born (she wouldn’t again, as I was being cut open in surgery, but she would see him when he was only hours old, which was a first for her) and I had a sip of hot chocolate, but it didn’t taste right, so I dumped the rest out. We then piled into her car to go do my pre-reg at the hospital, as I would be there too early the next day to register. They hooked me up to the little baby heartrate ticker thing (three kids, no idea what it is actually called) and the nurse looked at me and  said “wow. you’re having quite a few contractions!” and I just laughed and told her they had been happening all weekend, but I had been getting them since August. She then told me that she wanted to do an internal to see if I was actually in labor. Trevor and his mom stepped out, only to be called back in by my shouting “as if!” as the nurse told me I was more than 4cm dilated, and would be having my son that day. This came as a shock to us all, as we didn’t have a bag packed, didn’t have anything ready, didn’t even have our truck!! We had planned on going to see Harold and Kumar, and for dinner, then planned on packing our bag that night. Beauty of having a planned C-section; there really is very little guess work. Or so we thought.

Trevor left in a mad rush, as I was taken upstairs and prepped for surgery. I stood in the hallway, pacing while waiting for my nurse, and made a bunch of phonecalls to tell my family and closest friends that our son was coming a day early. It ended up being kind of awesome, though, as my older 2 were both born on the 7th, and now, so would my third. We lived 20 minutes away from the hospital, and he had to pack all of our stuff, and rush back. He got there just as I was being wheeled out of the room ( he would have been there sooner, to you know, support and calm me down, but he stopped for pepsi… ahem) and within a half an hour, our baby was there, in our arms, and smack dab in the middle of our hearts. The 3 days we spent in the hospital was filled with its own drama and bs, none of which needs to be recalled or revisited.. except Trevor’s aforementioned toe, which reaked havoc the whole time we were there, as the nurses weren’t able to give him a bandaid, because HE wasn’t a patient. His toe bled for the whole week. Note to self: beware toe damage – that shit bleeds forever!

And now, here I sit, remembering his tiny perfect head, his beautiful little baby lips, his tiny little noises, and how much my heart exploded when I got to hold him the first time.

The last time I held my baby for the first time. The last time I brought a new baby home from the hospital. The last time I spent hours trying to figure out how to make his formula, work the bottle warmer and the bottle sterilizer (so much was supposed to be done that last night! haha) The last time we would have a brand new baby at home for the first time. The last time we got to show off our new baby.

The last of the firsts. I know there are lots of other firsts, but this chapter is officially closed. He is going to be 5. To some, that may not seem like a big deal, but to me, it is.

My last baby.

 

Ruuuuude is the new black..

This has been bumping around in my head for quite some time, but I hit my breaking point the other day, and here we are.

Once upon a time, people sucked much less than they do now. But the world has “evolved”, and rude abhorrent behavior has become the norm.

I am not okay with this.

Yoga pants became acceptable to wear in all walks of life. I am not a fan, but it doesn’t personally affect me, so I really don’t care.

Crappy reality tv is on every channel, in all different genres. I am not a fan, but it doesn’t personally affect me, so I really don’t care.

Using ridiculous slang and abbreviations has become the norm, and is used by not only teenaged girls, but professionals. I am not a fan, but it doesn’t personally affect me, so I really don’t care. (though, the over-use of “lol” makes me feel crazy from time to time, and possibly scream into pillows when I have a slew of them thrown at me.. but I digress)

These are things that didn’t used to be prevalent, but now are. That’s fine! People can like what they want, and I don’t have to like it, too.

BUT!

The fact that blatant disregard for human civility and compassion is now a part of day to day life? Not a fan!! And it does personally affect me, so I care. I care a lot. I give many shits and fucks about this development!

What the hell happened to mankind that it is so socially acceptable to be a flaming douchebag, day in and day out, and no one bats an eye!? What could possibly be so wrong with these peoples lives that they intentionally shit on everyone’s parade, like some sort of vindictive pigeon.

Seriously!

There are rude ass people everywhere you look now. I do not find it acceptable that it is more common to be greeted with scowls and gruffs than a smile. And this just isn’t because I surround myself with grumpy assholes… neigh neigh. This is everywhere! It is a mother fucking pandemic. It is running amok in our society and I am very disheartened by that fact.

I am not so disenchanted to believe that everyone should walk around with a smile plastered on their face and roses shooting out of their ass.. but for the love of god, TRY! Try to be a decent human, and maybe your life will be less gloomy. I, for one, am less likely to smile and be polite to someone who is a giant asshole and is shooting glares or curse words at me. I will not try to turn their frowns upside down. Do it yourself. I am not here to “deal” with your shit attitude… if people insist on being total assclowns and being miserable to be around, they will just be miserable without me. Cuz life is too damned short to be grumpy all the time, to act like someone shit in your cheerios every day, or to be forlorn because someone was a douche to you and you let it ruin your day.

I do not want my kids growing up in a world where it is more socially acceptable to be an asshole than a kind and decent person.

SO! On that note… all of you grumbling asshole pigeons… get your head out of your ass, throw on some yoga pants, watch some shitty reality tv, and TRY!

There is beauty in every day. Fucking look for it!

It’s raining..

And there is snow in the forecast. Not in the far-off forecast, like one would hope, but in the immediate future.

I don’t have shoes. I mean, I have shoes, I am not a hobbit. But my shoes are 6 years old and make my toes feel like a steamroller has run them over and then dragged them over jagged rocks. It isn’t pleasant. I am not a big shoe buyer. I don’t like buying shit for myself (unless it is hoodies, but shut your mouth, they’re an investment.. at least that’s what I tell myself, as many/most of them have yet to ever see the light of day.. again, shut your mouth)

I buy flip flops every spring. Love flip flops. I would wear them all year long if I could, which leads me to believe I was supposed to live on a warmer piece of this earth than I do. But I digress – northern Alberta has its perks. Give me a second and I am sure I can come up with something… but I’ve strayed.

Shoes. I have been putting off buying my shoes, which according to crap I have been seeing on IG and FB, apparently I chose a trendy shoe without even realizing it. Go me. Ahead of the trends. But since I haven’t bought them yet (been putting it off for months) now I will just appear to be another lemming. Sigh. And now my feet will be frozen, and likely filthy, due to the impending snow shit and the lack of coverage I have for my freshly pedicured feet.

So when someone says “don’t put off til tomorrow what you can do today” heed it! Your feet will thank you.

I am back, bitches!

I have taken some time to chill, organize my life, and see how things feel. And what I can say right now is… things feel great! We are happy in our new house – it fits us very well and everyone is loving our new space.

Don’t get me wrong, the move itself was a slice of flaming hell. We had help. We arranged ahead of time for people to come help with the heavy cumbersome shit. I pack the house and clean after it is emptied, so the husband moves the shit. Seems fair. Except this time, help didn’t come. Bunch of hosers just didn’t show up. So who did the brunt of the heavy lifting? That would be us. At one point, my head was pinned between the wall and the couch, and I was not pleased. I know there are other people we could have called, but I have a very good reason for not doing so, which is why I am not bitching too heavily about moving our shit ourselves. Am I selfless? Did I want to give people their time with their families? Did I want to avoid being an inconvenience? NO! I don’t want those people calling us to move their shit. HAHA! Totally selfish, hence only being slightly annoyed.

Moving on…. We are settled and everyone is enjoying their respective spots in school.

Biggest little is thriving in grade 8 and just starting another year of volleyball. He is so good at that game, it is crazy. And it doesn’t hurt that he is very close to being 6 feet tall. Loser. I make him sit down when I give him shit, now. Nobody will take a 5’3″ person seriously when they hover 5-6 inches above them. He is a giant. He has a big heart. But at times I still question every choice I have ever made with him, due to the moron-adolescent big-ass attitude. Just have to remember it happens to the best of us and hope tomorrow is better. But as I remind myself all the time – it could be worse! He truly is a great kid and watching him become this beanpole with a vision for his life is kind of flooring me!

Middle-little (also known as the diabetic) is kicking ass this year. November 9th will be his 1 year diaversary, and he has got such a good grasp of it, our last appointment was mostly just sitting around and bullshitting with his nurses.. they didn’t even want to see his food log. He has grown (physically and emotionally) with this disease and we are blown away every day with how well he has adapted. He is in grade 6 and doing amazeballs with school and with his stupid busted ass pancreas. But he is so much more than just a diabetic kid. He is so funny and silly, and is going to earn a living with his amazing drawing and attention to detail. Just you wait and see….

Little-little!! Aww, here is where the changes are undeniable. My baby started kindergarten this year. Not only is it weird that he isn’t home two days a week, but he comes home and talks about this life that we aren’t a part of, and that has never happened before. It is tearing my heart apart a bit, but he is doing really well, so that helps. He attended his first bday party without us today, which is another change. Sigh… My baby. Seriously freaked out by this new development!

My husband!! Seriously… gush gush gush. I love the ever loving shit out of that man! Him appearing in my life was random, and a total miracle. My heart was obliterated before him, and now it is put back together in the most perfect way. He did a course at work this week, and walked away with a 98% which is amazing for someone who despises school, tests, speaking in front of people, has adhd, etc. And now this man, this amazing human that I get to share my life with, is a certified heavy equipment operator, and is certified to train people to not only run the equipment, but to also train other people to train people. In summation, he is a heavy equipment badass, and I am stupid proud of him! Plus, he is total sex on a stick, so there’s that, too.

Me…. I don’t really have a lot to report (at the moment) but shit is changing. My horizon is beginning to look a lot more pink, and the dark clouds are way behind me now. I have a few tricks up my sleeve… lets just say, what is coming next will be revolutionary in my life.

Like I said…. I’m back, bitches. But the me that is back isn’t the me you knew from before… I put myself back together differently this time.

*mic drop*