I’m not dead, I’m just planning a wedding!

Holy crap, has it really been since December since I’ve written a post? You must have all thought I kicked the bucket and left this planet.

I assure you, I’m still alive. I’m actually in the midst of planning our wedding, so it’s kind of taken over my life. Plus, my work just moved to a brand new location, and I was in charge of a few big projects (including our grand opening) so needless to say, my spare time has been next to nil.

You can also rest assured that my toddler is wreaking her usual havoc, in her cutesy charming ways. Her vocabulary and sentence formation ability has sky-rocketed which has made for some very interesting conversations lately. I’ll get to those – I promise – but a few people have contacted me lately and asked me what’s been going on since I’ve basically dropped off the face of the blogosphere. Well, here goes…

1) We’re getting married! April 28th, 2015 in JAMAICA! I am beyond excited. It will be my fiance’s first time leaving the country, and L’s first trip on an airplane, so it should be interesting keeping her occupied for the flight. Mom’s/Dad’s who have been there and done that when it comes to in-flight toddler entertainment, PLEASE comment with any tips you’ve got to share. I’m so open to them. I can just see us being “that family” with “that screamy kid” on the flight, so if I can avoid that by any means (besides drugging her lol) I’m up for it!

I can't wait to have my toes in the sand on this beach!

I can’t wait to have my toes in the sand on this beach!

I’m also trying to do this on a budget. Well, as much of a budget as you can when flying to another country. I’m trying to DIY stuff, and access free stuff (cause who doesn’t like free?) and get it done on a dime. So if you know of any beachy themed, turquoise & tangerine DIY stuff, send ’em on over!

2) Remember the “Hypocritical Health Hurdles” series I was writing? Yeah… I know it’s been a while, but I’ve SUCCEEDED!!! I’ve lost 21 pounds to date (my goal was 20 pounds), including 3.5 inches from my waist. It’s actually reached a point where other people are starting to notice the changes, and I’m feeling pretty great! I may not be at my ideal weight (that’d be another 20 more pounds…uggh), but I’ve lost it and kept it off, so now I know I can do it! Yay! Plus, I still treat myself to a drive-thru fast food meal, or pizza, or something grease-laden and sweet and awful for me every now and then, so I’m not feeling completely deprived and off my rocker. The big bonus for me? I’ve picked up a few nice sundresses and things for when we go to Jamaica, and they’re not plus-sized! I’m back into regular sized clothes now, from regular stores, and can pick it off the rack! I will never be a size small, and I don’t want to be. I’d like to keep my boobs, my butt, and my curves. Though I do like that now I can keep that curvy look, with a decreased health risk. Overall, I’m feeling pretty great about my success!




3) I wish I knew how to cut my own hair. I’m in desperate need for a haircut. I’m talking a minimum of 6 inches cut off, but it just isn’t in the “mommy budget”. Sigh. Not really an exciting thing to report, but it’s on my mind constantly and every time I look in the mirror. I feel like a fresh new cut/look to go with my fresh new weight loss success would lift my spirits pretty high. Time to save the dollars I guess.


Alright, well that’s the life update as for now, so on to the stuff that keeps me giggling every day when it comes to my girl. To say she keeps me on my toes is an understatement.

– L loves to shop. If you ever gave her a choice as to where she wants to go, she’ll almost always say Walmart. I’m not sure why she loves Walmart so much, but now my goal as a parent is to make sure she doesn’t grow up to end up on that people of Walmart website. Have you been there? Basically it’s a website dedicated to posting pictures of people who are spotted at¬†Walmart, wearing clothes to…”impress”. If it were up to L, she’d be in Walmart all day, every day so I don’t want her to turn into the Walmart Creature Feature lol. They aren’t the most fashionable to say the least. Check it out!¬†http://www.peopleofwalmart.com/

– The other day, while in Walmart (maybe I do go there too frequently… am I one of those people?!), L was seated in the front of the cart when she started caressing my chest area and trying to pull my shirt down. It was a fight to keep the girls contained. She kept saying “Mommy, boobies under there. Boobies are hiding! Come out, come out wherever you are Mommy’s boobies!”. If you’ve met my L, you’d also know that she doesn’t understand the concept of an indoor voice, so we were drawing some unwelcome attention. This type of thing occurs regularly. Fun.

– On a cuter note, L wished me a Happy Mother’s Day on Mother’s Day, and every single day since. I’ve stopped reminding her that Mother’s day is over, because frankly, I like being celebrated.

– POTTY TRAINING IS HELL!!! We were having success for such a long time, then she was having some bowel issues. It took a few trips to a pediatrician, followed by some elimination diets to determine she has a lactose sensitivity, which explained the control issues she was having. Now that we have it sorted, we went back to the potty. NO FRIGGIN’ LUCK! I’ve tried sticker charts, bribing with candy, getting rid of pull ups completely and letting her wet her underwear to see if that will help her to learn the “I have to go” signal, etc. She’s TOO DAMN STUBBORN! Our conversations go something like this:

Me: “L, are you pooping sweetie? Let’s go to the potty to finish so we can have a treat!”

L: “Ummm, no thank you. You change my bum!” (she then runs and hides. At least she declines politely, right?)

Me: (trying to remind her the potty is nothing to cry about) “L, remember what we say for the potty? What do we say?”

L: “Happy potty, happy candy!” (basically a short version of if she sits happily on the potty she gets a candy – not a big one, I’m talking like one m&m – which she seems excited about till she sees the potty, then crosses her arms, pouts, and takes off running).

This pretty much sums up her attitude...

This pretty much sums up her attitude…

Or this version:
L: “Mommy, my bum hurts! Owie! Rash!”

Me: “L, you have a rash because you’re in pull-ups. If you used the potty, your bum wouldn’t get rashy and hurt!”


Now I know people are going to say that maybe she just isn’t ready, but I don’t think that’s the case. She was using it successfully until the lactose intolerance problem caused a lack of control for her movements and we needed to use the pull up for security purposes for a period of about 4-5 months. She’s reverted backwards, and I can’t pull her out of it. FML. If I never hear the word potty again, it will be too soon.

How are the rest of you doing? It’s been so long, I feel like I’m practically writing for strangers again! I think I need to get someone to start harassing me on a weekly basis so I don’t fall off the bandwagon again. I miss this place.


“You asked to me take it, I didn’t want it! Here, take it back! Take it back!”

Does your kid have a lovie? Mine sure does.

It used to be a pristine, white, little lamb. We call him “Lambie” or “Lamb-tron”. It’s one of those things that is a lamb’s head and arms, sewn onto like a little blanket thing.

Lambie isn’t white anymore. It is a lovely shade of germy, dirt-grey. No matter how many times I wash it or what I wash it with. It’s in a permanent state of “frig that’s filthy looking piece of crap”.

Well today went well all morning. We left without a hitch. She didn’t fuss while getting her hair done either, which is a miracle in itself!

We drove to my Mom’s (where she gets looked after for the day) and things were going great. I should have known it was an ominous sign that this was too good to last.

As we were getting out of the car, I stood her up in the driveway and handed her “Lambie”. I grabbed her bag, and we should have been ok to head to the door. However, the white puffy dandelion flowers were too much of a temptation, so she made to hand me Lambie so she could pick a weed. No big deal, sure I’ll take the dirt-rag.

WELL HOLD THE PHONE. Apparently, even though she said “here take this” (well she didn’t actually say those words, but you get the picture), I’m apparently not supposed to touch him this morning. Queue the screams, tears, sitting down in the driveway (which isn’t paved by the way so she’s sitting on rocks) and flipping out because I’m holding the love of her life.

Did you not just HAND IT TO ME?

Oh dear god. Right. Forgot to mention that across from my Mom’s house is a lady who runs a daycare out of her home. There are two mom’s dropping off their kids and standing in the driveway staring at me with the “Holy God, thank fuck it isn’t my kid doing that” look on their face.

So I’m standing there, in the rain, saying “Well here, take it back, I didn’t want it in the first place. Take it back. Take it!”.

Give a kid a Lambie, flip the switch, and apparently all is well in the world again. I wish life were that easy for me. I need a Lambie for when the day gets rough. Oh wait, is that why adults drink?

On a positive note (yes, I can be positive, too!), I did leave her happy. Mommy wore lipstick to work today, so she kissed the top of wee Miss’ hand and left her with a kiss for the day. Ten minutes later, she’s still sitting in the corner, staring at the kiss on her hand saying “Wow!” and kissing her kiss.

Day ruined, to day made. Maybe I am super- mom after all!


“Do your boobs hang low, do they wobble to and fro?”


So if you read the “About” section on here, you’d see how I’ve described myself. Not-so-skinny, not-so-perfect, etc. The one thing I could say about myself for a long time though, is that I liked my rack. I never had issues when it came to “fulfilling” that area. I think what I liked best about my boobs, was that they took away from my gut. Focus, UP!

I don’t know about you other mom’s, but seriously, WTF happened to my tits! I went from having boobs a pin-up girl would be envious of, to ending up looking like I should be on the cover of National Geographic (not in a good way). They’ve lost their “oomph” so to speak.

Not only that, but one tit seems to feel more “deflated” than the other tit, which makes finding a bra a bitch. Not only do I have to find a bra that defies gravity, so to speak, but I have to find one that leaves the girls looking equally full again.

You don’t find bras like that at Walmart.

At least their still big, and can still distract from the fact that my daughter is 19 months old, and I still manage to have a belly that looks like I’m 6 months pregnant….and a zebra. Yay, stretchmarks! (Said nobody ever).

If you’re one of those women who ended up popping right back in to looking like a barbie doll… you’re clearly following the wrong blog.

(And I’m secretly super fucking jealous.)


“Did I seriously just do that?”

You know those moments. The ones where you see your kid doing something, and your first instinct is to yell “Oh My God, you are not seriously doing that right now!”. But then common sense kicks in and you realize, fuck, it’s totally my fault and I can’t yell at all.

I had one of those moments last night.

Any working mom knows, that when you work all day, you want to be one of those mom’s who has super fun with their kid before bed. You don’t get to see them much, except for weekends, so you want those few precious hours to be awesome, super fun-mom time.

But some nights, you’re just too fucking tired. Your brain is scrambled and it’s all you can fucking do to get to bedtime. That was last night. It was one of those nights where she needed a bath, and it could not be skipped. (Thankfully she loves tubby time, so it isn’t a chore.)

So here’s me. I have the water running in the tub. I’ve got a blanket on the floor so she isn’t sitting right on the carpet afterwards. I’ve found one of those hooded towel things. I got the kid stripped down to her birthday suit. We’re about to go to the tub when I realize – shit – if I don’t have tubby toys this won’t go well. So I take ten seconds (LITERALLY ONLY TEN FUCKING SECONDS) to grab some toys from her toy box to put in the tub.

I turn around, and she’s looking down, peeing all over the living room carpet.

Insert me wanting to yell “You are not seriously doing this right now!!!”. I didn’t yell. But I might have cried. My fiance had a “This is why I don’t take her diaper off till we are beside the bathtub” look on his face, and deservedly so.

She isn’t near potty trained, and this is the first time she was actually conscious of her peeing, because she felt it dripping down her fucking leg. I’m the bad mom.

So here I am, fighting back tears, wanting to yell (mostly at myself for being such a dumb ass) and I have to pull myself together so that my kid isn’t traumatized by her first piss outside of her diaper.

Mom fail. Clean carpet fail. Sanity fail.

Fuck the chocolate, where’s the wine?


“You think you know pain?”

So when I first saw this video, I thought to myself “Aww how sweet. These men want to get an idea of what their wife/mother went through when they gave birth. What a sweet gesture”. I guess it is a sweet gesture. Do you know what would make it sweeter? If it were more realistic.

I have a few thoughts on this. Will I get some flack for my opinions? Maybe. Am I going to be opinionated anyway? Yep!
1) So I guess these men did the simulated labour for one hour. They clearly couldn’t handle much more. ONE. HOUR. Seriously? I don’t know a single woman whose labour only lasted one hour. Try 47 hours, then we’ll talk.
2) The best line – “Don’t talk to me right now”. Yep. That’s about it. Don’t fucking try to talk to me during that pain lol.

3) So that’s the contractions…what about the delivery? Any way to simulate pushing another human out of yourself? Cause that doesn’t feel like unicorns and glitter and happiness and rainbows.

4) What about the poor women who get ripped to shreds? Yeah that doesn’t feel pretty either.

All in all – nice gesture, but it isn’t even a taste of what we go through. If someone can develop a simulation for how it feels to get kicked in the nuts (which I’m told is “the worst”), I’ll gladly volunteer so that I can confirm what I’m pretty sure I already know – it’s got nothing on childbirth.


“No, you can’t wear Mommy’s underwear around your neck out in public.”

That simple sentence = day ruined for a toddler.

Wait a minute. How the hell did she get into my underwear drawer in the first place? Aww shit. Those aren’t even clean.

I always told myself that when I have a kid, I’d be the type of mom who fosters self-expression. That I wouldn’t try to stifle her creativity, or force her to bend to accepted social norms. But seriously, my underwear around your neck? Couldn’t you have found a scarf or something? I have to draw the line somewhere. I can handle that you like to wear sand buckets on your head like a hat, and that you have this crazy affinity for putting stickers on every piece of bare skin you can find. But people might start to question mommy if we are walking around the grocery store and you’ve got dirty panties draping around your neck like a scarf. I know they are pink and you think that’s “pretty”, but trust me, those aren’t pretty panties. Eww… I can’t believe I just wrote the word “panties” that many times. I might just throw up a little.

As if we weren’t already running late this morning, now I have to go wash your neck.