Throwback Thursday

Cole (aka Burnt Wood) and I

Image

Judging from this picture you’d never guess how tremendously awful of a sister I was to him. I remember one day I conviced him that:

1. A tornado was coming.

2. Our cat was going to die any day now (she actually lived to be 18).

3. He was adopted.

…. Im surprised he still talks to me.

LOOOVVEEE YOU hahahaha ūüôā

Weekly Writing Challenge: The Power of Names.

Sooo… I’ve kind of been slacking on the whole “weekly writing challenge” stuff and totally forgot to even write last weeks.

Ooooooops!

Anywho, according to this weeks suggestion I’m supposed to talk about names. Lets start with my name.

….I was named after a rock.

Plus, I am hardly ever able to find my name on those stupid souvenier stands. BOOOOOO!

I also have two younger brothers, one who is named “Cole”.

Growing up I used to tell him he was named after burnt wood. To make him feel better my Mom informed him that I have a stripper name.

Hahaha. I come from a super lovng family.

I do know from a parent’s perspective how hard it can be to name your child though. When you’re handed the birth registration form you have full control over that little person’s identity… and I’m not gonna lie, the urge to write “Princess Banana-hammock” on that piece of paper was quite tempting.

Our daughter was the only child of the 3 who’s name was decided on before she was born. Owen was nameless for about 10 minutes, and Liam was nameless for 6 hours.

I’ve always found that boys were harder to name then girls.

Speaking of nameless babies, the same brother who I insisted was named after burnt wood, was originally supposed to be named “Garrett”. I was about 4 or 5 at the time, and when I was told what the new baby’s name was going to be, I proceeded to yell “GARRETT THE CARROT”.

I’m kind of a jerk….

Poor Cole left the hospital without a name and I’m pretty sure my mom just called him “Buddy” for a few days before an agreement was finally made. I could be wrong, but I think the movie “Days of Thunder” may have inspired his name.

I liked the name “Abigail” because of a Taylor Swift song, “Owen” because of Greys Anatomy, and “Liam” because of Liam Neeson.

… a Taylor Swift song though…. I blame the hormones.

Lets just be glad I didn’t go with Abigail’s name suggestion for Liam.

It was “pudding”.

Image

Continue reading

Oompa Lumpa Orange

5 days ago my brain apparently short circuited and I decided it would be a great idea to re-do the bedroom that Abigail and Owen currently share. Repaint, redecorate, reorganize…. unfortunately, I didn’t “rethink” the whole idea.

I never want to look at another paint can for the rest of my life.

Although the room is now done and lovely as ever, it was 3 days of personal hell involving 2 kids under the age of 4 “camping” in my living room, 7 hours total of painting at ungodly hours, and spending a small fortune at Home Depot and IKEA.

One of my favourite reno misadventures was when we (Aaron and I) were deciding on paint colours and ended up reading through (and mocking) all the colour names in the process. I then spent the rest of the afternoon yelling ridiculous paint names at poor Aaron. How the heck do you end up with the job of naming paint colours? I would seriously consider doing that for a living.

Some paint name suggestions would be:

“Oompa Lumpa orange”

“Man I’m old, grey”

“Baby Batman blue”

“Toilet Bowl white”

… I could go on forever- I find this way too entertaining,

Ive decided that if I ever win the lottery I’m starting a paint collection just so I can choose all the names.

In case you were wondering we ended up choosing “daisy chain yellow”.

….”Hippie Tiara” would have been a better name.

 

 

Throwback Thursday

My husband, Aaron and I met the summer after I graduated highschool. We were both 17, and we met when I showed up at his doorstep with a bunch of mutual friends to go swimming.

The rest is history.

How the heck he puts up with me I don’t think I will ever understand. I do know that I love him even when he leaves his dirty socks on the floor….. but maybe not so much when he farts on me in his sleep.

 

 

2167_64745309621_6161_n

Us the summer we met.
Aren’t we cute? Look at me with my lovely blonde mermaid hair-free of spit up and cheerios. I also probably got to sleep in until noon.

Sh*t My Kids Say

Its time for another post of “Sh*t my Kids Say”.

Its dinnertime and as per usual I am trying to coax my 4 year old to eat her vegetables. Its been a 20 minute showdown, everyone else is done and Abigail’s still staring at her plate like her broccoli is the nastiest thing she’s ever seen, and I’m obviously trying to poison her.

Me: Abigail, just eat two veggies and then you can go have a bath.

Abigail: Just two wedgies!?

 

mmmmm…. wedgies.

How in the world am I supposed to keep a straight face?

Im addicted.

Most people who know me, know how much I love pop (aka soda for you american peeps).

I’m addicted- legitimately¬† addicted. When Coca-Cola Canada went on strike, therefore stopping production and causing notices to show up at all major grocery stores- I was freeaaking out. I was stock piling like there was a zombie apocolypse. Not kidding.

That being said, I also know how much sugar is in my can of delciousness…. and so does my scale (sad face).

I need to break away from the sugar crack.

I had the hubby buy me a 12 pack case of Coke (the beverage, not the street drug) last night.

It remains unopened, and my goal is to keep it unopened for 1 week, and then we will go from there. I have instead been drinking green tea like a fish drinks water. Its caffienated, has zero calories, no sugar, and no scary sugar replacements (mmm aspartame).

I am going to be one scary lady for the next week. Be prepared for either super spastic blog updates, or none at all because I’m curled up in a corner rocking back and forth (my hand clasping a mug of green tea for dear life).

“Why are you putting yourself through this?” You may ask.

I don’t believe in fad diets, but I HAVE to get away from the sugary junk that coats my body with joy… and fat, because last time I checked, your supposed to only have one chin… not two. So slowly weining myself off the bad stuff is the first step and I’m starting with the biggest contributor.

Image

Weekly Writing Challenge: Threes

As I am new to the blogging world, I just discovered today that WordPress.com’s Daily Post offers a weekly writing challenge.

I have made it my personal goal to write something everyday, whether it be on my blog, in a journal, on facebook ect. I want those who take the time to read my blog to really get to know who I am, and since I’m not always sure who that is sometimes, it will be a learning process for the both of us. I plan on doing the challenges weekly, and I hope you guys enjoy them as much as I enjoy writing them.

This weeks challenge was called “Threes”. I have to choose three photos that inspire me.

This wasn’t hard because as many of you know, I have three children.

Image

 

Image

 

Image

 

My kids inspire me every single day. They are the most frustrating, loving, and rewarding creatures that ever came into my life and quite honestly, becoming a mother was the greatest thing thats ever happened to me.

My kids inspire me because they make me want to be a better person, they make me really consider how I act, love, and who I am as a whole. It is my job to make sure that they are prepared for the world that awaits them, and that is terrifying.

I will not be here forever, and one day they will look back and reflect on the kind of mother they had. What kind of mother am I? Am I fun, strict, patient, trusting? How I parent, will determine how they might parent. How I see view the world, will impact how they view the world as well.

My kids motivate me to want more for myself, and to want more for them. There have been countless nights that I lay awake wondering if I’m doing a good job? Am I too strict? Could I have been more patient? Why is Caillou bald? Where are Max and Ruby’s parents?

There are days where I lose my cool, where I shout, where I’m not patient, and I feel like I’ve failed. But, when the day is over, the tv’s off, I’ve wrestled toy trains away from baby hands, and I get them into bed, I hear those three very special words. “I love you”.

My kids are my reason for living.