Wednesday, June 22, 2011

Leaving the Nest

I totally forgot to update this! I took this picture the day before the baby birds finally flew away. I was sad to see them go, but glad to not wake up to incessant chirping in the wee hours of the morning!


I took this next one through the screen of one of the bathroom windows so it's not as clear but it's from a different angle so you can see their little bird mouths.


We haven't had any different kinds of birds move in yet, but I will be all over them with my camera if they do. Usually we get doves after the robins leave, which are my favourites!

That's all,



Monday, May 30, 2011


A cool feature of our house is a ledge on the outside with a door to the inside so we can get up close and personal when birds build nests there. These were taken on May 20th shortly after hatching. I haven't wanted to disturb them too much to see if the last egg hatched or not, don't want to make mama bird angry or scared in case she abandons the babies.




That's all,

Friday, April 29, 2011

She's Got Legs

It's funny, life. I was feeling all old and sad yesterday because my eldest son turned ten. Of course in typical "me" fashion, I was making it all about me. How I'm not old enough to have a ten year old, and how he's growing up too fast and pulling away from me, becoming his own person. I know, poor me?

After I'd picked up the big kids from school, I was strapping the little guy into his car seat and I heard, "Hey! Nice legs!". I didn't look around or anything, not thinking much of it.

Until he persisted. "Hey! Hey you! The mom!"

I looked around, pointed at myself and said, "Me?"

He was hanging out the window of his school bus. "Yeah, you. Nice legs! You've got nice legs!" Then he immediately hauled himself back in and put his window up.

So Mama's not so old and decrepit after all, if 8 year old future milf hunters feel the need to comment on my physical attributes. Also, I guess I no longer have to cruise by the high school to find potential cougar prey if the elementary school will do.

Oh yeah, I've still got it.

That's all,



Thursday, April 21, 2011

River Queen Rollin' On

I started my second season of roller derby on Sunday. I know that I'd meant to write more about it during last season but like anything you love this much, you want to protect it. To foster it and keep it safe from the rest of the world, while simultaneously wanting to shout from mountain tops about your love for it. Yet no words could ever come close to the actual reality.

Nov24 KDG

That, my friends, is how much I love roller derby.

As someone who has always felt weak in my personal life, being able to put on some skates (and knee pads, elbow pads, wrist guards, helmet and the dreaded mouth guard), to get out there and have the chance to be strong and to be aggressive... The feeling is indescribable. I can't count the number of ways that derby has changed me.

I've never been athletic, to put it mildly. I'm a "lay down and read a book" person. Oh, the lengths I went to in order to evade my dreaded nemesis: sweat. I have sweat so much during practice that I've had rivulets rolling down my butt crack, y'all. And I didn't mind! I've worked out so hard that I had to swallow down puke. I've strained *parts* that I didn't even know were possible to strain. I've been bruised, bloody, aching, muscles shaking, parched, thinking that I couldn't possibly continue on... but I've kept going. I've given it one more lap, one more plank, one more drill, more, more, more. A hard way to find out that you're a fighter, but a lesson well learned.

I've always been self-conscious of my "thunder thighs", my "mothering hips", my broad shoulders, thought I had too much booty. I've referred to my body type as "chunky hourglass", I've abused it, have taken it for granted, have not cared about it as I should. But you know what? My thighs are strong for skating. My hips and ass are perfect for blocking and for pushing other bitches out of my way. My shoulders can carry a lot of weight both literally and figuratively. How is it that I made it to the age of 31 and am only now figuring out that I can be positive about my body and not only just accept it, but celebrate it?

This body is a temple now. I feed it right, I stretch it, I exercise more than just my brain and my mouth, I take what could be considered a meal of vitamins every day to make sure that my bones are strong for when they impact with the concrete floors that I skate on. Heck, I'm even ex-foliating and moisturizing more often! This body is going to last me for the rest of my life, God-willing, and it's going to be involved in roller derby for as long as it can keep up.

So you can maybe begin to understand now, how good I feel and how I want to just keep that to myself for a while before I let other people in?

That's all, (but there's so much more)



Monday, April 4, 2011

The House That Built Me

My first house was put on the real estate market today. I have mixed feelings about this; I'm ready to move on, I'm ready to not be paying the bills there plus the bills where I am currently living. I will feel peace in knowing that there is yet another loose end that I'm tying into a neat little bow. Still, I can't help feel a little twinge of melancholy.

That house was the dream of a 23 year old spoiled princess. My small family of three moved in when I was full of idealistic folly with no real concept of homemaking whatsoever. How long it took me to learn how to manage laundry, toddler wrangling, scrubbing toilets and how not to turn everything in your pots and pans to sludge with one moment of inattention? Oh, the glamourous life of a House Milf! How many hours did I spend doing loads of laundry, bleary-eyed but accompanied by an OCD-like precision with an all-consuming fierceness in regards to wrinkle control? It took me years to be able to feel like I wasn't just "playing house".

Two of my babies were conceived and took their first steps there. The growth of my three boys was charted on one of the walls for seven long years. Cupcakes, dance parties, organic vegetable and herb gardens, wine and tea and always, always a place to stay for a stray friend in need for as long as was necessary. Every wall, every door, every patch of floor has its own story. The house that love built.

It's also the house of pain. The house of loneliness so crippling that even certain members of The Wiggles appeared to be sexually attractive. The house of unhappiness, of immaturity, of two people struggling and failing. It's also the house where love went to die.

I'm ready to pass my house on. Furthermore, after standing empty for nearly nine months, my house is ready to be loved again; to contain and foster love within its walls. The house that built me is ready to build another family. Our blood, sweat and tears can now become someone else's dream.

I went in wide-eyed and with a great belief in forever. I am coming out not quite a seasoned veteran, and still not yet jaded. My eyes are wide-open, sure; just not with the same naiveté. I still have a great hope for the future, it's just that I'm looking in a different direction. It feels good.

That's all,



Wednesday, March 23, 2011

The Circle Game

My baby boy had a birthday yesterday. Four years old. It seems like only yesterday that my cousin called me to ask why I was so late, and I told her that it was because I was in labour a week early. I do know that one day I'll wake up alone, hearing the ghost of little baby feet tip-toeing into my room for an early morning snuggle and realise that they're all grown up and gone; living their own lives.

I'll remember how he always loved to see me wearing a dress and red lipstick, and how he always made sure there were at least two stuffed animals in my bed before he went to sleep, so that I wouldn't be lonely. How he always asked me if I wanted help "downloading" the dishwasher, and also how much he loved trying to find matches for all of the socks in the dryer. His mysterious Texan accent that I have no idea how he acquired...

Four years old. Not a baby anymore, but my baby. My last baby. They're growing up, and I have too. I don't know what the future holds, of course. I still have the biology to have more children but for now, this is my life; my entire universe. At 27 years old, my child-rearing years were fulfilled. Both a blessing and a curse.

"I am a warrior, so that my son may be a merchant, so that his son may be a poet." -- John Adams

All that I can do is my best. Keep fighting the fight; be a warrior. When times are hard, I remember that I live for them. That I do what I do, I have hard times, I stumble and sometimes I fall; sometimes I fail miserably; but I do it all so that their lives may be better. So that they can have the opportunities I didn't; so that in many ways, their lives will be easier. God-willing, they won't have to go through some of the things that I went through.

I am a warrior, so that my son may be a merchant, so that his son may be a poet.

That's all,



Saturday, March 19, 2011

Hey Lizard Berry!

I've been trying to come down out of an avocado haze. Guacamole is my latest vice, especially since avocados have been so readily available lately. This following video? So true! They're evil!

I blogged a recipe over at my other blog found here, with step one of what I'm going to do to lose my Frosh 15.

And by Frosh 15 I mean winter-fluffiness caused by Netflix, guacamole, Tostitos and agoraphobia.

That's all,



Thursday, February 10, 2011

Your Mom Goes to College!

Or, in the case of my children: their mom goes to college!

I got accepted, y'all! I've been stressed about this, have been having minor panic attacks that they wouldn't want me since I haven't been to university in 10 years, never did finish and haven't been doing much since then except birthin' babies. Why am I talking like a redneck? See? Stay-at-home-momism is affecting my brain! My I.Q. is dropping by the second!

I haven't told my dad or my sister yet, and I just got the email a few minutes ago... but yeah, I'll just go ahead and tell the entire internet first. In a few years, this is gonna be me:

Am I scared to death? Heck yes. But I'm finally feeling that this year, of all years... when I'm going to be turning 32 *gasp*, my life is finally coming together. I know now that even though it's going to be hella hard, I can do this. Mama's got this one in the bag.

That's all,

Saturday, January 8, 2011

Blog is the New Black

Many of you I know from our days of more prolific blogging on MySpace. Those were the days, weren't they? Where I would just sit down usually every day (sometimes twice!), empty my head out and into a blog, then hit "Post". I didn't care about what I was putting out into the world, I just wanted it out of my brain. It wasn't writing, it wasn't even "serious blogging", it was just fun and also therapeutic.

When the exodus from MySpace to Facebook happened, I lost contact with nearly every one of my "Friends" and have missed their blogs ever since. One of these former MySpace bloggers, Dana, has come up with a brilliant idea to try to get us all organised again. To revive our abandoned blogs and spend less time playing those time-suck Facebook games. Even to delete our accounts if possible. I've scaled down my FB use significantly lately, but I won't delete it because I have a lot of family members there that I don't get to see often enough and it helps us to catch up with one another.

I have been wanting to start writing again for a long time now, I just needed a push. Thank you, Dana, for doing this for all of us. She has compiled a list seen here. If you would like to join us in blogging more regularly, drop her a note and she will add you to the list. I intend to subscribe to everyone on the list, though I know that I haven't exactly been *ahem* even reading blogs either. I know! I'm awful! In fact, that's going to be my New Year's Resolution. Read and write more blogs. Also, if you have a blog and I am not subscribed to it, leave your url in the comments section for me. Pretty please?

That's all,