Sporting the Messy Mom Bun

This is day 27 of the Writer’s Circle challenge: What you Wore Today.

What did I wear today? I wore the same thing I wear every day.

  1. Mom jeans
  2. Ugg boots
  3. Long sleeve shirt
  4. Fleece sweater

I work from home so comfort wins over style. Every single time. And don’t forget the ubiquitous scrunchy for the messy mom bun.

I’m going out on Thursday night though, so I’m going to have to make an effort. Uh oh. Thoughts?


When Words Are Not Enough

This is day 26 of the Writer’s Circle challenge: Things you’d say to an ex

I guess it would depend which ex this challenge refers to and if I could say these things with impunity or if I would suffer blow back for saying them.

There’s one that I would say, again, I’m sorry and I you are my biggest regret.

There’s one that I would say: it’s time for you to make some changes in your life.

There’s one that I would say nothing to but would kick in the balls. Repeatedly and for a very long period of time. That’s not ‘saying’ anything but sometimes words just aren’t enough.

If any of them read this, I’ll let them figure out which one is which.

She Swears Like a Sailor…

This is day 25 of the Writer’s Circle challenge: Four weird traits I have

I had to let this project go for a few day — SICK. AS. A. DOG. But all seems to be returning somewhat to normal, so here I am, pondering four weird traits that I have.

I am inordinately shy.

Which is diametrically opposed to my potty mouth. I swear like a sailor. I tried to curb it when Nikki was a baby but it never took. So I have since taught her that just as there are things that adults can do that kids can’t (drive a car, have a credit card, drink…), there are things that adults can SAY that kids can’t. So far, she has accepted that and labels my slip ups as ‘mommy words’.

I am petrified of ALL bugs.

Which is a problem when you live in a 70 year old bungalow and your bedroom is in the basement. The only good thing to look forward to in winter is the fact that they all bugger off somewhere until spring.

I am afflicted with FOMO.

Which isn’t a problem since I work on the web all the live long day but when your child starts drawing pictures of you holding your phone in one hand and a wine glass in the other, it’s a wake up call to start making some lifestyle changes. What’s FOMO you ask? Fear of missing out. Hence the zombie like pose of so many of us, staring into our little lit up screens.

I can’t think of a fourth. If you know me, and if you’re reading this, I’m guessing that you do, let me know what my fourth might be, will you? Thanks.

Ode to a Sofa

This is day 24 of the Writer’s Circle challenge: Something I miss

Something I miss…

Something I miss…

Something I miss…

Honestly? I miss my old sofa.

It was this weird forest green corduroy-like fabric and was the first large piece of furniture my ex and I had purchased together, on time, from Sears. Every month, $25 came out of our newly minted joint account.

I could stretch out on this thing and have room to spare at the end. It was


Sick person on the green sofa…

the best sofa to cuddle on after a bad day, to host friends for a casual drink, to watch TV from when I was 8 months pregnant and feeling elephantine; it was perfect for caring for a sick baby while the golden retriever Maggie watched, to make sure I was parenting correctly. It held all our cares and woes.

And when we decided to get divorced and I decided that Nikki and I were moving in with my mom into her tiny house, I knew the sofa needed to go. There was no room for all those cares and woes at Grandma’s house, so we gave it away, hopefully to a happy home.

Dumping, selling and giving away all the furniture and all the stuff was a perfect metaphor for our lives. It was freeing and surprisingly easy to do, considering the years and years it had taken to build up this stock of ‘stuff’. Oddly, the sofa is one of the few things from that old life that I actually miss.  But Grandma bought a little one, which at least Nikki can stretch out on from end to end with a little space left over and that’s good enough for me.


You Think this Post is About You, Don’t You?

This is day 23 of the Writer’s Circle challenge: A Family Member I Dislike
Wow. How the heck am I supposed to write about a family member that I dislike on my blog? Um. No. Though in actual fact, she would never be able to read it – she doesn’t read in English. Only Spanish. And French. But with my luck, someone will translate it. And then she’ll be sitting there in her apartment in Valencia, with her ten cats, and she will know that she is a person that I have not enjoyed spending time with in the past but as she is related to me by marriage and only tenuously at that, I won’t worry about it. I wouldn’t want to upset her son though. He’s awesome. And he reads English. Damn. But he’s busy and important and doesn’t have time to read drivel on his cousin’s blog. Oops. Too much information?


My Mornings…

This is day 22 of the Writer’s Circle challenge: My morning routine

7:10 – one eye open.

7:20 – the other eye open.

It’s time to get up and rouse the kiddo. This is the good bit. You wouldn’t think getting a six year old out of bed would be the good bit but while she’s still little, it kind of is. She is a wee heater and so what I do is hop into her bed for a snuggle before we actually have to surface. Only a few minutes of snuggly warmth before reality claims us, however.

I help her get dressed because even though she CAN do it all herself, if I want her to be done inside of 55 minutes, I have to move her along. I hope I won’t be doing that when she is 16 but it’s not looking good.

Anyway, after that and we have collected all necessary books, dolls, stuffies and other paraphernalia required for breakfasting, we trudge up the stairs to the kitchen / dining room.

For her? A mini-bagel with butter and milk. For me? COFFEE! (followed by coffee, and coffee and why thank you, I’d love another cup of coffee!)

While she munches and watches Arthur, I move on to lunch making. This is bar none one of the worst things about having kids. Not the late nights, not the diapers, not the potty training, not the snot or the barf. It’s lunches. Seriously. I have a repertoire of about four acceptable lunches so the week of the month when she has pizza lunch at school is my happy week. Other weeks are just sad, sad, sad.

Someone suggested to me that she could be making her own lunch, saving me the hassle. But like the getting dressed thing, I would rather sleep until 7:20 than get up 30 minutes earlier just so we can fight in the kitchen about what is going into the lunchbox that day. Call me crazy.

Anyhoo, that done, it’s a question of taming down the crazy hair into something resembling a pony tail, putting all necessary items in the ‘almost as big as she is’ back pack and heading off to the playground. On arrival, she drops her bag where her class lines up when the bell rings, and takes off in search of her little friends.

This is my time. Mommy chatting time with other mommies and sometimes daddies. It’s a nice few minutes before the day begins. If there was a coffee cart, like on the Gilmore Girls, it would be even better; sometimes I bring my (third) cup in a porta-mug… Not quite as delightful but at least it’s hot.

And that’s it. Every day, day in and day out. Not so bad, is it?


Talk About Being Born Under the Right Sign!

This is day 21 of the Writer’s Circle challenge: My horoscope and whether it fits me

From today’s Globe & Mail:

“TAURUS (Apr. 21 – May 21):

It would be nice if you were the kind of person who likes everyone and downloadnever gets angry but the simple fact is you are not, so if someone has begun to get under your skin make a point of avoiding them today, and every day if necessary.”

Oh. M. Gee. Well, this is just perfect for me. PERFECT.

Let’s forget the fact that I am a major introvert; practically a recluse. I long to live in Hobbiton, for crying out loud. I have blogged about looking for the perfect place on the top of a mountain somewhere. Ask me ‘fight or flight’ and I ask if there is a duvet I can hide under — my version of flight.

I am irascible enough that people learn quickly if they don’t like me and then THEY can make a point of avoiding ME.

The prickly exterior is there, like a porcupine, as a defensive mechanism. Don’t approach. You might get poked with something sharp.

There are only a few people who get past the quills and for now, that’s just the way I want it.


Should You Judge a Person by their Playlist?

This is day 20 of the Writer’s Circle challenge: Shuffling the songs

The challenge wants me to shuffle the songs on my playlist and tell you what the first three that play say about me.

Without even bothering to turn on my phone, I can tell you right now what the music will say about me. It will say: you are 6 years old.

Case in point.

Shuffling…. and the first song is?

“Last Friday Night (T.G.I.F.)” by Katy Perry.

Yep. Aren’t you proud to know me?

Number 2: “Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious” with Julie Andrews, from the Mary Poppins soundtrack.

I only wish I was kidding about this.

Number 3: “Moves like Jagger” by Maroon 5. Again, at the kid’s request.

I’ve learned something from this exercise. I’ve learned to create my own playlists. It will still have things like “Immortal” from the Big Hero 6 soundtrack… and it MIGHT have “Do you Want to Build a Snowman?” from Frozen, because who doesn’t love that song?

(I’m ducking while the rotten tomatoes are being thrown at my virtual head… okay, I’m back.)

My list will also have A-Ha, Platinum Blonde, Bon Jovi and a little Great Big Sea because I’m 6 going on 43 and want to return to a time when music made sense to me.

30 day writing challenge

30 day writing challenge from Writer’s Circle

What Colour is the Sky in your World?

This is day 18 of the Writer’s Circle challenge: my favourite colour and why

My favourite colour depends on the day. It can even depend on the time of day.

At 7:30 am, I love the perfect shade of a coffee that is made with just the right amount of cream.

In between, I’m submerged in blue Twitter birds and Facebook logos. Blue isn’t my favourite colour.Untitled design

Later in the day, I love the colour of caramel on top of my macchiato. Unless it’s November or December, in which case I like the colour of nutmeg on my eggnog latte.

If it’s a ‘gird your loins and your wallet’ kind of day, I skip Starbucks and instead love the perfect shade of a coffee that is made with just the right amount of cream (sound familiar?)

At 3:25 pm, I love the shade of pink of my daughter’s jacket as she comes flying out the door and runs directly into my arms, almost knocking us both to the ground.

At 5:01 pm, I love the crystal clean look of a crisp Sauvignon Blanc.

What others?

I love the colour of a rich and delectable Pinot Noir;

The hues of a gorgeous cashmere sweater – though since I don’t own one, I just covet the ones I see in the LL Bean catalogue;

The pink in the sky when we get pink skies at night (sailor’s delight);

The kelly green of the steamed edamame that my daughter will eat by the bucket load, giving me relief that if she won’t eat a rainbow all the time, at least she’s getting some green in her some of the time.

By 11 pm, I’m happy to see the inside of my eyelids. I’m not sure what colour those are.

In Summer, I love swimming pool blue and Homer Simpson cloud skies.

In Fall, I love every colour of every leaf but particularly the brilliant scarlet of our neighbour’s Japanese maple.

In Winter, I love the sun glinting all colours of the rainbow on newly fallen snow, viewed from the safety and warmth of my house with a cup of coffee that is made with just the right amount of cream.

In Spring, I love the green of buds and the colour of sweaters not covered by puffy coats.

What’s your favourite colour? Or for my American friends: What’s your favorite color?