Getting through the day, one cup at a time.

Grown Up Stickers

When Ally was a baby I purchased zoo animal themed wall stickers for her bedroom. At some point during our multiple moves we landed in a place that was less than sticker friendly for the walls and I instead transferred those stickers to her four-drawer dresser. As she aged and began helping to dress herself, pick out her clothes or put her laundry away we used the animal stickers as a reference to which drawer items belonged in.

“Can you get out socks please? They are in the zebra drawer.”

“Yes sweetie, your pyjamas go in the rhinoceros drawer.”


Today, during nap time, Kira ripped all of the stickers off of Ally’s dresser. Ally was so sad about it (and so was I) that we headed off on the ridiculously long walk to the dollar store. She picked new, different stickers and we hauled slow bum home to put them on.

As I sat on the floor next to my now 4 year old daughter I silently remembered all of the places the old stickers had been with us, the learning tools they were, even the pictures that they appeared in – and they were gone. Then I watched my quite suddenly grown up little girl, peeling and sticking her own carefully chosen stickers on to her dresser in whichever places she thought looked best.

Gone are the days of brightly coloured, extraordinarily happy zoo animals. Gone are the bright green tufts of grass, and gone are the days of referring to a drawer by animal instead of order.

Now the dresser is covered in chic flowers, silver and pink with the occasional shiny pink diamond accent. Pyjamas now go in the third drawer, bedding in the fourth. Ally’s dresser is no longer labelled with 10 bubble letters spelling her name, but is instead just assumed to be hers by this little adult who needs no direction.

She’s only four, but it seems like an eternity has passed. I don’t want to mourn the loss of other tiny things, but I know it will happen. At least I can come here to cry.


One Lovely Blog Award AND The Beautiful Blogger Award

I have been soooooooooo lazy with catching up on this award. In fact! I was so busy today cleaning the house up so my awesome friend Sarah could come and babysit the kiddos while Phil and I used our free movie tickets to have some adult time that I didn’t even post my Au Courant Fare. I have one for this week. To prove it, it’s Goulash and I will post it soon. Promise. Although, ‘soon’ is a very interpretational phrase. I will post it…no later than Sunday. Whabam! Commitment!

I have been so fortunate as to receive a large number of awards lately. Very fortunate indeed, but this brings me to a conundrum. Nominating other bloggers. For these awards I will nominate my most favouritist 22 blogs. I am sure that I am supposed to do these separately but come on. I am soooooo lazy! And it’s hard to pick and choose which blog deserves what award because I’d like to think that I only read awesome blogs, but what makes one blog Lovely and another blog Beautiful? And if one is Lovely then why can’t it also be Beautiful? And that is the difficult spot that my Coors Light and I find ourselves in.

SO! I have decided to pick 22 blogs because One Lovely Blog Award says 15 while The Beautiful Blogger Award only says 7. So I’m cheating and picking the combined number. If you are nominated by me and only want one award then you can pick whichever one you so desire. So says I. I’m picking my top 22 blogs that I have been following the longest and feel like we have an internet-friendship. Or at least we’re internet acquaintances.

The One Lovely Blog Award was given to me by the very talented Discover and Devour . Thank you! I am genuinely touched whenever someone thinks enough of my rambling writing to nominate me for an award.

Of course I was just as surprised to find out that days later I had been given the Beautiful Blogger Award from the passionate Mom and Boy . So a special thank you to you as well! As far as the award goes, I’m confused as to how they know what I look like – and who’s opinion it is that gets to decide which bloggers are or aren’t Beautiful, but I’ll take it. Any compliments are awesome, right?


Each award requires a link and thanks to the award givers. They each require that you tell seven not-previously-known things about yourself. One Lovely Blog Award requires you nominate 15 worthy bloggers, and Beautiful Blogger Award requires you nominate 7 worthy bloggers. For the above reasons I will nominate the following 22 bloggers for both awards. So sue me.

  1. yoonanimous
  2. very VERY busy mom
  3. JM Randolph, accidentalstepmom
  4. Jonah said/Ben said
  5. sleeping should be easy
  6. Mama. Papa. Bubba.
  7. Momma Be Thy Name
  8. sillyliss
  9. wifemothereventplanner
  10. parentingisfunny
  11. steadily skipping stones
  12. kimberliah
  13. F-Words
  14. Feisty Red Hair
  15. baby love
  16. Perfectly imperfect momma
  17. Jestidwell’s Blog
  18. omnomalicious
  19. Soapfi, And Other Stuff
  20. Fine Frugality
  21. newlifeinvermont
  22. As I See It

Hey, you know what I hate? When WordPress suddenly decides that I can’t access ANY of these 22 blogs through my reader in order to verify their URLs so I have to go through my hotmail and take a BILLION YEARS LONGER!!! OR wait a whole extra day to hope that WP gets its shiz together so I can do it my way.

Wooooo. WordPress…yay….

Okay. No. It wouldn’t let me go through my list of blogs. Lame. I had to get 17 of these blogs from my hotmail accounts, and the other 5 I had to scroll backwards through Reader for over an hour. Woooo.

Now I’m supposed to list 7 unknown things about myself for each blog. 7+7=14 Yay math!

  1. My family from my mother’s side had a tradition of naming their girls a ‘K’ name until my mother. She was given an ‘M’ name with a ‘K’ middle name. She tried to bring it back with me, but I was told that my dad wrote my name (Crystal) with a ‘C’ on the birth certificate. I brought it back with my kids giving Ally a middle name that starts with a ‘K’, and giving Kira a ‘K’ name.
  2. My mother was a chronic liar so I’m not sure if any of the above is true, but I can verify MY kids names, one of my mother’s middle names started with a ‘K’, and her mother’s first name started with a ‘K’.
  3. My OCD dictates that I must blow into every glass that I remove from the cupboard to dispense any dust that may be there. I have worked hard to only blow in the glass that I’ll be using, and not other people’s glasses, but I still feel a little icky – like I’m mixing water with dust and making a murky cocktail. Yuck.
  4. I have a terrible fear (that I’m working on) that people don’t take me seriously as a mother because I am so young and unmarried. Yeah, it’s foolish but it’s true.
  5. I hemorrhaged after giving birth to Ally and because my experience in the hospital was so cruel and traumatic (a real issue, called: birth rape) I was disjointed enough to accept death. Obviously, I didn’t die. This enabled me to be more vocal during my labour with Kira and her delivery; although I was still treated poorly I was able to make a faster mental recovery and bond almost immediately with her.
  6. I am anemic and have been since I was 14 years old. Instead of taking my iron supplements, I try to naturally supplement my diet with red meats and dark green vegetables. I am mostly successful, but if I need the supplements then I will take one.
  7. I have really thick, hairy, fast-growing eyebrows. Aunt Jodi will sometimes generously tweeze them for me (and then I feel pretty) but I can’t afford to have them waxed anymore and most of the time I look like a caveman. Or a Neanderthal.
  8. I secretly hoped that both of my babies were girls even though I told everyone that it didn’t matter.
  9. I can’t swim well enough to save my life. I took lessons up to Level 5 when I was a kid (much older than my peers when they had started) and I cheated for Level 4 and 5 to pass them. I can tread water for five minutes. I did it once. But I almost drowned doing it. Stupid swim test. I always wear a life jacket when boating because even IF I remained conscious, I wouldn’t be able to make it to a shore without it. Both of my girls are going to be taking swimming lessons (Ally’s already started) because I don’t want them to have this disadvantage.
  10. I have a teeny tiny bladder and therefore I have to pee frequently. Both times that I was pregnant, I would excuse myself to the washroom and everyone would comment that it was amusing that I had to pee so often because I was pregnant. It wasn’t the pregnancy. True story, being pregnant only added one nighttime pee to my daily schedule, and only with Kira. Every other pee was my normal routine-y-schedule. Tiny bladder.
  11. I make fart and poo jokes with my family. I grew up thinking it was funny, I still think it’s funny, and I want my kids to think it’s funny. Why not giggle when you pass gas instead of feeling shame.Farting is funny!
  12. I have no imagination. I remember having one when I was little. At one point I had to grow up and become an adult way too early and my imagination just died. I remember my little brother asking me what happened to my imagination. Because of this, I have a harder time playing with the girls then I want to. Luckily Phil is really good at playing and tries to help me. Yeah, I get coached on pretend play.
  13. I took a hockey stick in the throat when I was a teenaged and I dented the bone in my throat (called the hyoid). When I went for an x-ray, the technician said that she had never seen a broken one on someone who was alive. So, I almost died. No big.
  14. I’ve almost died a couple of times actually. When I was pregnant with Ally I rolled my van in a snowstorm on a highway. The paramedics didn’t even want to take me to the hospital!!! I forced my way there and everything was fine. Yay!

Oh good! That’s 14. Thank you very much for the nominations and boost to my ego. Now I must urinate. I’ve already peed at least three times in writing this post. TMI? Possibly. But peeing is funny just like farting.

I smell poo.


The Babysitting Plight

This is how our last night went:

  • Momma rambles a bunch of gibberish that doesn’t really make any sense or have any point
  • Phil gleans that what she really needs is adult time and makes some mention of it
  • Momma gets over excited at 5:14pm and attempts to secure a babysitter for the night

Have I mentioned I’m 23? That means that all of my friends have no babies, and they still have things like ‘social lives’ that keeps them occupied. Have I also mentioned that I have no mother or sisters? That means that I have no access to free and frequent babysitting. Here is the text message I sent out:

“Anyone up for last minute babysitting? Tonight? I’m paying to escape insanity!”

Well, there weren’t any ‘yes’ replies, so we ended up staying in. Now, I’m not normally a last-minute type of gal. I mean, you can’t be when you’re a parent. Not really. #4 on the list of things parents should know before they’re parents: ‘Say goodbye to spontaneity, at least after bedtime and not during nap’.

I need to find a babysitter. Not a friend of mine, or a relative, but some responsible teenager who loves kids and wants to make a few extra bucks. Someone who strives for toddler speak, can handle the whine, and isn’t intimidated by our husky. Where am I supposed to find this??? I’m not about to look online for it (sorry internet, but you’re kind of creepy like that) and I don’t know what level of illegal it is to wait outside a highschool and start talking to the students. Hey little lady, you look like you looooove children. Can I get your phone number? In case I need you to come over some night…

Last night was amazing though. Phil decided that since we couldn’t go out that we should have a lovely time at home. He made us a ‘beer and wings’ night, and we watched some of the hockey game, a little ‘music of the 90’s’ documentary, and then we jammed out on my guitar for a couple of hours. It was amazing!