Kreativ Blogger Award!

I won another award bitches. I know! What the eff? I guess this means people like me! Bahahahaha. suckers. So what Fool awarded me this week? Why Reanna from http://www.rockthesinglelife.com/

I love this chick because she writes about hilarious things, for example cats attacking testicles as if they might be filled with catnip! I suggest you read her because you are missing out if you don't!

As you all know by now there are RULES to follow when receiving an award. So here they are! Feel free to double check that I did in fact follow every teensy suggestion.

RULES For Accepting Kreativ Blogger Award

1. Thank and link back to the awarding blog.
2. Answer seven questions. (According to Reanna you should make up these damn question yourself. So I might just do that...or maybe I'll just be lazy...I haven't decided yet).
3. Provide 10 random factoids about yourself. - (HA, prepared to be bored).
4. Hand the award on to 7 deserving others. - (Oh Christ...SEVEN. I don't even know seven people in real life...)

Well anyway, let's get on with it shall we.

1. Thanks Reanna from http://www.rockthesinglelife.com I think you rock and I'm so glad you love me as much as I love you. Blogger crushes make me feel all shivery.

 

 

Seven Questions...

 

1. What is your plan if the world ends in 2012?

 

I have rum and coke. And I'll hug my kids. And probably have sex with my husband - if we have time. (but not in front of the kids - they don't need to go to heaven anymore traumatized than they already will be.)

 

2. What's your biggest fear?

 

That the Cascadia Fault will slip and a mega quake will hit, and my house will fall on top of me, but I won't die right away. Instead I'll have to be clausterphobically trapped while dying slowly from upper torso crush injuries...

 

I have an earthquake kit...which won't do be a bit of good if the house collapses...and my house sucks - so it will.

 

3. Whats the most frustrating part of your day?

Putting the kids to bed. They always act like I'm trying to put them into a vat of acid.

 

4. What one item would you bring if you had to live on a desert island?

 

Macguyver.

 

5. What's your favourite outside activity?

 

Drinking beer and laying in the kids kiddie pool...I'm not even a redneck. It's fun. You should try it.

 

6. Whose the one person you hate the most in this world?

 

I don't hate anyone. I'm Canadian. It's against the law.

 

7. If you had million of dollars what would you buy?

 

Admiration.

 

Ten Random Facts...I'm sorry in advance.

 

1. I'm awesome

 

2. I'm a mom

 

3. I have fake red hair

 

4. I hate my dog - she pees and poops everywhere

 

5. I hate my kids - they pee and poop everywhere (Just KIDDING)

 

6. I'm crapping on the toilet while typing this...sorry...

 

7. I have a TV

 

8. I write in this blog. A lot.

 

9. I can't seem to remember how to spell anymore (and I used to rock at it) and now I use spell check all the time! Even for Tweets..

 

10. I don't drive. I have a phobia.

 

And finally the moment you've all be waiting for. Seven Bloggers!

 

1. Amanda at http://www.werdyab.com/ She is so awesome. She wrote a post that made me laugh so hard I almost cried...because as a mom I have totally been there. Check this post out http://www.werdyab.com/2012/04/latte-of-embarrassment.html

 

2. Shan at http://www.thecrowdednest.com/ She is such a fabulous writer. I just love reading her work. It's so well put together that if she ever came out with a book I would not hesitate to buy it!

 

3. Shosh at http://shvaygshosh.blogspot.ca/ I have only read two of her post, from two of her blogs. BUT I love how she tackles huge topics. She is amazing-o!!!

 

4. Dawn at http://www.happinesscubed.net/ She tells stories like nobodys business and without fail I am left wanting MORE.

 

5. Jen at http://mytornadoalley.com/ I know. I awarded her last week and I don't think she's into doing these award things because she's awesome and not at all in need of flashing her badges all over the place. But you know what? I don't care. Cause I like her. Check out her blog peeps because she is on my Roll for a reason and it's not because of Loyalty! It's cause she writes really WELL.

 

6. I can't find her name...so embarrassing yet here goes... "Mom" at http://www.treadingwaterinthekiddiepool.com/ I love her blog and she's totes probably not into these Meme's (look em up) either. But I don't care. I love her writing. I look forward to reading her!!

 

7. Vanessa at http://www.5thingsaboutnothingimportant.com She's so funny. You should check her out and read some of her gardening stories. Holy good god they make me laugh!

 

 

 

AHAHAHAHAHAH. I did it!!! WOOT!

 

All rules followed. All peeps discovered. Booyeah biotches!

 

Love,

 

me.

Irony Sucks.

Here I am four fingers deep in rum and I still can't come up with a thing to write. My husband's no help at all.

"Babe, what should I blog about this week?!" I whine helplessly at him.

"I don't know, what's on your mind?"

I want to say big things; huge topics and great fields of inquiry like politics, global warming, or the terrifying threat of Fukushima...but no. What's on my mind is that my clothes dryer is on its last legs and we don't have money to fix it. I also keep thinking that this one hemorrhoid feels like someones rammed a piece of glass up my ass. And I should probably stop drinking while I write - it could lead to an alcohol problem (or embarrassing revelations about hemorrhoids).

I love that dog...but she is so dumb. Today I gave the kids flashlights to play with because I'm awesome and lazy. They got her to run full bore, face first, into the wall...repeatedly! She was chasing the light.... At least she's cute.

None of these topics would interest readers for very long. I would hope anyway. I guess I could do a post on alcoholism...but really. I'm not an alcoholic, yet.

Then a revelation! I will write about not writing. I'm a genius.

.........

*crickets*

..........

Well...not writing sucks. I feel I have this greatness contained within my brain. This one tiny, little talent that enables me to stand above the crowd, thumping my chest, and proclaiming myself *gasp* a Writer. But then it comes...that ancient demon, that wicked monster known as Writer's Block. It wiggles and worms its way into my psyche, whispering doubts and tongue lashing all topics.

"Oh please, that's so over done" he groans (I don't know why he's a man, he just is).

"Really, you're going to reveal THAT and expect followers...?"

"A post about your dumb dog...no" he jeers.

"Another post about your kids...Jesus...get a life".

And round and round the "Wheel of 'FUCK'!" turns and I can't, for the life of me, figure out a topic this demon would like. Nope, nothing; I got nothing.

And then while I'm passing out in front of "Weird or What?" - and is Shatner really in his 80's? - It comes to me. I will write again. I will defeat this grotesque and demoralizing voice. My solution is to pen a blog about him, about this creature that lurks and skulks inside my brain waiting for the chance to laugh at my misfortune.

He's hypercritical and all around a giant dick.

D.I.C.K.

Did you hear me "Writer's Block" - if indeed that is your real name? I'm defeating your sorry ass by writing about your sorry ass.

Irony sucks, doesn't it?

BAM. Blog post. Done.

Liebster Award Goes To....

Hey bloggy friends! I've won a Liebster award from my twitterite friend Pish over at http://www.the-pish-posh.com  She's a super cool lady, and a wicked friend, but mostly she is a fantastic writer. I highly recommend you browsing her words. She's quite the versatile blogger and is a fan favourite amongst many bloggers and tweeters alike! Here's an excerpt from ONE of my favourite posts...

You Smell So Bad I Could Cry

Here's the thing about stink. It lingers. It lingers on fabrics, in the room, and it lingers on you. It's an aggressive act to stink: I stink and now you will too... muahahahaha... I'm not talking about smelling ripe once or even twice, or a being just little stinky. I mean the only way to describe this smell is refried poop sweat with a side of vinegar piss.


Obviously hilarious. Read her!


Now moving on to the nominating part of the gracious acceptance speech. You see my bloggerite friends when you receive a prestigious and awesome award from a fellow blogger, it's only polite to nominate others. Plus it's in the rules. There's this long contract you have to sign - something about your soul and the fires of Hell. But that's not important. Let's get on with the nominating of some other great blogs!

When you get a Liebster:

1. Thank the blogger who nominated you for it.
2. Link back to the nominator blogger(s). See above. Then click the links!
3. Display the Liebster Award Logo. Proudly.
4. Nominate 5 bloggers with fewer than 200 followers - actual followers, not Facebook friends or Twitter followers.
5. Let your nominees know so that they can do the same and keep the awards rolling.

1.Tara at http://www.pohlkottepress.com/

Her most recent post about grief was ridiculously good. Her words can so often find an audience and make that audience gasp from the beauty they paint. I am a HUGE fan of her work. HUGE. Please check her out!


2. Renn at http://thebigcandme.blogspot.ca/

What can I say about this jewel of a blog. Renn is such an awesome lady. Strong, vibrant, and brave - she's also a good Internet friend. She blogs about her journey through breast cancer and you won't find a more awe inspiring story. She's also a beautiful writer and I can guarantee you - even if you've never experienced the beast that is breast cancer - you will be able to take away so much from this blog. Renn writes about cancer, yes. But it's the life she found while dealing with it that will leave you breathless.


3. Heather at http://www.creativedevolution.com/

Are you depressed, sad or anxious? Do you need a pick me up? How about a hilarious blog? Heather is so frickin funny you'll wonder why you never read her before. She's SUPER fantastic and I have a blogger crush on her. You need to go read her now! NOW.


4. Tye at http://www.tyetyson.com/

Are you looking for a spooky read; a blog that's different in content than one you've ever read before? Here it is. This awesome guy goes out and hunts ghosts - and he's no slouch either. He used to be a police officer, which means he's not screaming like he just got kicked in the nuts every time a shadow walks by. Check him out!

5. Jen at http://mytornadoalley.com/

I've had her on my blog roll for a while now because I love her writing. She is a fantastic blogger who tackles tough topics but can also keep things light, refreshing, and funny. I think she's one of my fave bloggers because she's just so honest. She doesn't pull any punches and you can always be guaranteed an insightful post when you come across her.


Well that does it friends. Thanks for reading and go read a little more. Reading is good for the brain!

Ghost

I'm a ghost. I live within four walls, married to a man, mother of three children, but I do not exist. I possess no credit card, no driver's license, I have not adopted my husband’s name, and there are many more tiny discrepancies. Some of this is by design, some of it was due to circumstance, and some of it...

is because my husband is a police officer.

We hide in the open. We're cognizant of our surroundings. He never wears his wedding ring at work and his vocation never whispers past my lips in casual conversation. His job makes us a target. You will not find our last name within this blog, or any insinuation of our residence. I've learned to hide in plain sight; ghosts in an effort to stay alive.

So you can imagine my horror when an intruder stepped onto my newly bought property. His shadowy figure looming large through the glass French doors. I held my six week old daughter tight to my chest as midnight slithered into life.

I'd just finished watching television. The baby slept soundly within my comforting arms. I stepped towards the back of our house -- the easiest route to our bedroom. My attention was solely on her sleeping form. My movement was tentative and quiet. Smoothly I glided towards the stairs. I stuttered to a stop when I became aware of him. I strained to see in the gloom, the dark morphed and oppressed my line of sight -- or so it seemed at first.

We stood mere feet from each other. Both frozen in indecision--at least I hoped. I wondered why he remained so still and why he continued to stare without action. He didn't move, not even a hair's breadth. A pane of glass is all that stood between us and I was painfully aware of my home's security risks. I slid my eyes towards the phone base, but didn't dare turn my head. I couldn't risk tipping him off. Another half a minute passed - he never wavered.

It was then I realized I couldn't make out his face. Not one feature. He was darkness personified. A shadow within a shadow. I swallowed hard and broke the spell. I reached for the phone, juggling my still sleeping infant, and in that second the man turned abruptly and walked towards the end of the deck.

My heart beat so hard I would swear my daughter moved in rhythm with it. I dialed my husband. The nervous intonation of his voice betrayed his usual calm -- I never called this late. I inched towards the doors, while my terror soared through the line and spurred my husband to immediately dispatch a patrol car. He talked me through. I turned on the porch lights and extinguished the night that threatened to suffocate me. The man was gone. The gate was locked. And the deck...was still full of boxes, furniture and impossibilities.

In that second it dawned on me...

He could not have moved across my deck without making a substantial amount of noise. He could not have exited my yard without my witness. He had disappeared into thin air and my terror took on a new dimension of fear.

In my rush to tell the story I wrote with abandon. I blogged our location, I blabbed the scenario, and I even posted our neighbourhood. "Ghosts" I said because it was all that made sense.

In the light of day I felt silly and moved to delete my post-- it was dangerous and stupid to have revealed so much. It was then I noticed one lone comment. It was from a neighbour. A neighbour who said I wasn't alone. She claimed to have met this shadow man within her own bedroom. She swore our neighbours had seen him too. I checked her trackback. She'd found my blog by googling our neighbourhoods name and the word "haunting..."

Image © Jason Jam. Image Source:Doctor Fong's House of Mysteries

He stalks our community and spies on those who live within his "territory". He's cognizant of his surroundings. He watches silently. He does not hide.

A ghost more real than me.

He Shines.

"Life is not a matter of milestones, but of moments."

-- Rose Fitzgerald Kennedy I haven't talked about him. He's here of course, spread extensively throughout my blog but my words barely scratch the surface of who he is. My fingers drum across the keys and speak in foreign tongues. Lasics, congenital, ventricular septal defects; over and over I have labelled him. But there isn't truth here, not really. Nothing that speaks to who he is. I love him so much this boy of mine. He alone has the ability to coax me out of a mood that's dark and deep and so damn awful. He holds my stare until I acknowledge him, and then he smiles as if to say "there you are". He makes me want this world. He makes it beautiful. He glows. I can't explain it, there's just something about him. He demands attention even while not actively searching for it; and people want to touch him, ache to hold him, long to tease that smile from his somber face, but he's not easily enamoured by anyone. He's vibrant like a sunbeam you can touch, but he'll skirt your hand and flee your touch if you move too quick or demand too much. He dances too. This crazy, goofy dance. He uses his whole body and moves expertly to the music. No matter what I'm doing I have to stop and watch. Occasionally he'll toddle over to me and grunt. His arms raised above his head, his eyes pleading. We'll move together - swaying like a willow tree caught in the winds gentle caress. And I'll live there for a beat or two - perfectly content. Mischief is his creed. His siblings aren't interested in him. They refuse to call him by name and instead refer to him merely as "Little Guy". They push him from their games and ignore his pleas to play. When the rejection becomes too much he'll steal a crayon or toss a toy across the room, and then giggle excitedly when his name is finally screamed. "PRESTON!" Their faces red and spittle flies and I have to stop them before accusations turn violent. Without a doubt, they also love him. I'm not sure they have much of a choice. He's enigmatic and full of character and not one person can deny what shines beneath his surface. He's brilliant and like a shooting star I have nothing but wishes when I look upon him. And my wish is simply this. That I have not jinxed him. Here now, before me, is proof of his brilliance. No more foreign tongues, no more medical lingo. He is not his defect. He is so much more and I've seen it since the day he was born. But I could not write it. I could not put it down in words. I could not testify to his impact. In truth, I refused to make it real. When I faced the possibility of burying him I did what any practical person might do. I listened to the doctors, I followed all their orders, and then I practised the impractical. I called him Puck for the longest time, his true name never crossing my lips. I refused to mail off his birth information, fearful I might have to eventually apply for a death certificate. And I never wrote a single word that spoke about the enormousness of his being because what he is  - is a love I cannot touch with all the breadth of my words. I live my life in moments now, but it doesn't negate my ache to live a million or more with the boy who changed my life. I love you Preston.

My husband

Dear Scott,

You are thirty three years old today and I wish I could make that easier for you. The crowsfeet and hunchback your beginning to sport must be a horrendous adjustment. Just three hundred and sixty five days ago you were gorgeous, vital and in the prime of your life...but as the days ticked by and the seasons changed, your age progression was intense and unfortunate.

Now when we go out people pat my hand and applaud me for taking my father on a daddy daughter date, and I have to smile politely and correct their erroneous assumption. I'm sorry for their ignorance babe and for the pain they cause you. I can see it in the way your crowsfeet scrunches up as you try your best not to cry, and in the way your hunchback hitches as you hold back the tears.

Aging sucks. And I wish I could turn back the clock so that your feelings and my pride might be saved. But we both have to accept that life as you knew it is over.

So for your birthday this year I have decided to fore go the usual electronic gadget gift. Instead I think some revitalizing cream might do you good. I have also purchased you a gift certificate for botox. The doctor said that it would not only erase those nasty crowsfeet, but that he could inject it directly into the muscles in your back - to ease the rounding that your shoulders seem to be taking on. What a deal? No crowsfeet or devastating hunchback. Modern medicine is amazing.

*Snickers*

Okay babe. Obviously you don't look a day over 32. I love you more than I ever have and I hope this year grants you whatever wish you snuff out on your birthday cake.

Love you,

Carrie.

Lost

Yesterday I woke up to bright blue skies and a steadily climbing temperature! The day was blistering hot by 10 am with no relief in sight. Although there was a hardy breeze, I knew it wouldn't be enough to keep us cool. I decided that it would be the perfect day to take the kids to the water park. Since my husband was sick I figured I'd leave Preston with him. The park is just too big for me to watch all of them satisfactorily. So during Preston's nap my two oldest and I snuck out for a day of fun in the sun.

We walked the short distance together and I didn't have one issue with them listening to my instructions. I had high hopes that this visit would go off without a hitch...I should have known better. Outings that start off that great always end in disaster - it's Murphy's Law or something.

Anyway, we arrived at the park entrance and had to step carefully around the sun bathers. Once we successfully navigated the minefield of bodies, my son dashed towards the park as fast as his legs could carry him and was in the water before I could remove his shoes and shirt.

I called to my giggling son and was soon in a wrestling match - I yanked and pulled at his dripping wet clothing articles and rifled through my bag for the sunscreen. My daughter played beside me and seemed content to hum to herself. While I was preoccupied with slathering lotion on her brother she took the opportunity to go exploring. I happened to catch her fleeing frame out of the corner of my eye, and after asking a fellow mom to keep an eye on my son, I was in hot pursuit. By the time I'd arrived at where I saw her last, she was gone. It was as though she'd disappeared into thin air. Only mere minutes had passed since I lost sight of her - it just didn't make sense.

I darted towards the busy parking lot, skirting in between cars, and calling her name - the annoyance in my voice abruptly turned frantic as the reality of the situation began to sink in. She was nowhere to be found. My stomach inched it's way towards my throat and I could taste the bitter bile of its contents. I stood motionless in the middle of the parking lot - a deer in the proverbial headlights.

Worst case scenarios ran through my mind without invitation. What if someone took her? It was the only explanation that made sense. How else would she vanish so suddenly? I did my best to hold the panic inside but it was bubbling up anyway, escaping my throat in hitches and gasps. 

I was dialing my husband when I noticed that the YMCA's main entrance was open. Near tears and completely breathless I sprinted into the building. I stopped short when I saw her little frame playing with the candy machines. I covered my mouth and stifled a sob. The lady at the front desk smiled warmly at me and said, "I was keeping an eye on her, I figured someone was missing her". I could only nod in gratitude as I scooped my daughter up and crushed her to my chest. I did my best not to cry in relief and managed to escape with only a few wayward tears to spoil the attempt.

"Eden! Don't you ever leave the park without me again, do you understand?" I whispered at her.

"Okay Mommy, can I have some candy?" Not a snowballs chance in hell I wanted to snap, instead I said nothing and we returned to the park where I followed her around just like a helicopter parenter might...

The rest of our time at that blasted water park was uneventful, but when the day grew long and my kids finally tuckered themselves out, I was more than ready to leave. I packed them up and took their hands as we headed for the safety of home. Gabriel chattered non-stop about the friends he'd made and Edie...well she complained the whole way back about my obvious oversight in neglecting her candy needs.