MOMmagazine.ca

The Final Chapter

2011-12-13T14:42:00.000-07:00

This post has been three months in the making and I still am having a tough time writing it. Not because I am unable to find the words to express what I need to say but I feel like I am at the edge of a very high cliff and about to jump off without a parachute.

For the past five years, I have been happily and not-so-happily publishing MOM Magazine. When I started the mag it was with the intent of changing the stereotype of moms everywhere. I think I had some relative success with my goals and helped lend a voice to those who wanted something outside of the cookie-cutter mommy-based groups but after seeing some things recently in the mommy industry, and with my lack of interest in being a part of the mom clique or anything that it brings with it, I've decided it is time to focus my attention elsewhere.

Since the FIERCE awards, I have been plotting, planning and developing a new business that will essentially remove me and my identity from the MOM industry. I will be launching a new website in January that is FIERCE-focused and will basically swallow up MOM as you know it.

As of January, MOM will no longer be a magazine of any sort.

The website will still be found under a tab on the new FIERCE site and can still be accessed through MOMmagazine.ca and I will still be adding content that is not relevant to FIERCE onto that site (taking a deep breath for air) BUT I am no longer in love with MOM. I used to be so passionate about what I did, making a difference, breaking the rules... now I just don't give a fuck.

I'm over it. I have changed so much in the past five years that if I could visit myself five years ago, I would only smile knowingly at that 32-year-old girl, admiring her fire and drive. I wouldn't change a thing, not any of the bad and certainly not any of the good. I have met some amazing people through MOM Magazine but it's time to close the door on it.

I'm not locking that door, merely closing it silently.

Instead of jumping off that cliff, I think I'll look for a bridge to get me to the next mountain I plan on climbing.

Merry Christmas, love and light for 2012, and a nipple pinch just because.

Thanks for the last five years, it's been a helluva ride!

37 Things

2011-11-09T20:43:00.000-07:00

T'was the night before my birthday
When all through the house
Not a creature was stirring

Oh, fuck, don't get me started on mice.

Tomorrow I turn into a deliciously sexy 37 year old, and I'd like to think I've matured somewhat like the fine wine I like to drink but I'm more likely to be compared to that cheap second bottle I dip into on the nights when one just won't do.

I like to look at each birthday as a gift; the mere fact that I get to SEE 37 years on this earth means that I haven't somehow fucked up my life enough for it to end in some horrific and somewhat embarrassing headline in the Edmonton Journal.

Not that I haven't tempted fate enough, mind you.

I've made stupid choices, drank more wine than most would admit to without checking into rehab, and have the battle scars to prove I've been through more depression, anger, loss, and self-hate to know that being on THIS side of that shit is a much happier place.

When my mom was 36, we celebrated my 18th birthday at the Cromdale (which just got the nod for demolition *happy birthday to ME*), and now that I am a year older than she was when I was 18, it makes me see how truly blessed I am to be turning 37 and have the life that I have.

My life, however, is not without it's faults but I will tell you 37 things I am grateful for now that I am on the verge of turning 37.

37) My life. All of it. The hurt, the abuse, the sadness, the anger, the joy, the tears, the laughter, the loves, the losses, the friends, the enemies, the jobs, the travels, the successes, the failures, the memories. All of it made me who I am at this very moment and I like who I am.

36) My grandparents. They were such an integral part of my life and an integral part of who I am. I lived with them in Kuwait the year I turned 9 and I believe it changed the direction of my life. That year I learned to speak Arabic, studied Islam, was exposed to other cultures and experienced life outside of the inner city in Edmonton. It was a defining moment in my life, one I will always be grateful for.

35) The day I got hired at the Kelowna Daily Courier. I will never forget it. The year before my boyfriend, who lived in Toronto, died and I was unable to attend the funeral. For the entire year I was in a funk. I had no one to talk to, no one who understood what it was like to lose someone like that. Close to the one year anniversary of his death, which was days after my 21st birthday, I started thinking about things I wanted to do with my life so I researched newspapers I wanted to work at. The Okanagan Sun looked like a cool paper so I called them up and asked for a job. They flew me down for an interview and said they would contact me in a couple of weeks so I returned home but my thoughts went to my boyfriend's mom. I called her up and asked if I could come and see her (I never made it to the funeral because it was held Grey Cup weekend in Toronto and the Edmonton Eskimos were playing the Argos. Talk about the Universe keeping me from going, there were no flights available at all). Long story short, I went to Toronto and met his mom. It was one of the most spiritual experiences I ever had. Upon returning home I had a friend pick me up at the airport. I begged him to let me stop at his apartment and call my messages (pre-cellphone days). We did and that was the moment I got the message that I got the job as a sports scribe at the daily paper in Kelowna. It was one chapter of my life closing while the next one began.

Tara. She has the most gorgeous eyes

34) Tara. She's my girlfriend that I knew in Grade 5. We were best friends back then. I used to write stories about us in the form of Sherlock Holmes and Dr. Watson, myself, of course being Sherlock Holmes. We lost touch after I moved back to the innercity but she kept popping up at random times throughout my life. Our friendship was meant to be. We have since rekindled that kindred spirit and are still best friends who get each other in a way no one else does.

Teresa. She has the most beautiful smile

33) Teresa. She's the girl who's boyfriend I dated in High School (after they broke up of course). We became best friends after High School, terrorizing the Edmonton bar scene with our skanky outfits and slutty ways that only two soul mates can understand. We were young, independent, sassy and not so classy but she understood me more than anyone else in the world did. She was there for me when my Granma passed away and probably saved my life more times than even she knows. Our "thing" was The Outsiders and to this day she still calls me "Dally" because I used to tell her, "You get tough and you don't get hurt." I still love her more than she knows.

Karissa. She is as beautiful on the outside as she is on the inside

32) Karissa. This bitch is smug, arrogant, highly intelligent, and the kindest soul you will ever meet. I met Karissa when I published our first issue of MOM Magazine and we developed a friendship that has withstood more than I thought I deserved in any friendship over the past 5 years. She's the girl who has your back. She is the first one to stand up and offer help when I need it and she's the first one to call me on my bullshit (and live to tell the tale). Her compassion and tolerance for people is beyond what I can put up with but she is truly one of my best friends. And I know she LOVES it when I pinch her nipples in public. Aw yeh, yeh she does! Ask her. She's on Twitter.

Wendy and ~~my boyfriend~~ her husband. She glows!

31) Wendy. There are some people who come into your life when you least expect them but need them the most. Wendy is that girl for me. Weird connection but she's the wife of the (hot) guy who used to be my print rep before I went on "hiatus" with MOM. We met once at MOM's First-Ever Foresome and didn't reconnect for about two years. But when we did it was like seeing an old friend I hadn't seen in forever. Wendy and I are connected by the Red String of Fate, I truly believe that. I believe that of Tara, Teresa and Karissa too but Wendy came into my life when I was at my darkest and has never left my side. As a true Scorpio, I'm loyal to a fault and poor Wendy is stuck with me forever.

30) When I turned 30, I threw myself a little soiree at our place and my granpa came over to help me celebrate. He brought me some crazy little Beanie Baby and wrote "To Stinker love Granpa." I still have that Beanie baby and smile at the memory of him being here with me to celebrate 7 years ago.

Karen. I love hugging her and telling her I love her because she used to be so uncomfortable with it but now she likes it :D And she's so pretty!

29) Karen. I remember meeting Karen the year after I launched MOM. She is an Edmonton Morning Radio personality/celebrity (even though she is quite shy and reserved in real life and backs away from the spotlight) and I was awe-struck by the fact that she was JAMIE HENDRIX! If you know Edmonton radio at all, you will remember the morning show on 100.3 The Bear when it was AWESOME and had Cubb Carson, Sled Dog and Jamie Hendrix. She was SO freakin' cool then so meeting her was like meeting a local celeb. We bonded over our mutual lust for hockey hottie Sheldon Souray and have maintained a supportive friendship that will last a lifetime.

SherryLynn. She SPARKLES!

28) SherryLynn. Before I launched MOM, I had decided to do something fun so I became a Passion Parties consultant. SherryLynn was a consultant too and I honestly didn't think she liked me much. Fast-forward six years and we met again but this time we became fast friends. AND we share a birthday (Happy Birthday SherryLynn!) She's the most mature, down-to-earth, kickass chick I know and her signature "Sparkle" makes me smile every time I think of her!

27) My first boyfriend. He was Teresa's boyfriend (see #33) and we dated after high school. His mom hated me (I'm now seeing a pattern with guys and their moms, FML) and told me that I was ruining her son's life. Huh. I actually think I've heard THAT before too. At any rate, he's still working at the same gas station he was when he dumped me for some other ~~skanky slut~~ girl and I'm all happily-ever-after and shit with Big Daddy. Still, I did learn SO many things from him and for that, I'm grateful.

26) The diary I just found from when I was 19 years old. Yeh. THAT was a trip back in time ~~not so much~~. I had all kinds of secrets in there from my first one-night-stand (don't judge, it was AWESOME ~~not so much)~~ to my declaration of love for yet another one-night-stand (yep, I was a slut, what?) to the very last line in the last page of my diary dedicating it to my daughter and for her to learn from my mistakes. Who knew I'd have Lola?

The Great &Powerful Oz

25) Oscar. I was 27 when I had my little ginger firecracker. The great and powerful Oz was so meant to be. I remember leaving Big Daddy's parent's place one day in May 2001 and telling him, "We need to have a baby." He looked at me confused and said, "Well... OK." Bada bing bada boom, kid was born 10 months later. It's like I FELT his soul enter mine. Another Red String connection. Oz came to my life to teach me compassion, patience, calm and gentleness, and he's the most kindest soul you will ever meet. He is nothing like me or Big Daddy yet everything about him IS like us except better.

24) Marrying Big Daddy. *sigh* I always said it would be a cold day in hell if I ever got married but BOO to the hell YAH I got married anyway. Granted, it was -26C and literally 3 weeks after we found out we were the winners of the A-Channel's Big Breakfast (now CityTV's Breakfast Television) wedding extravaganza! It included EVERYTHING: Decor, wedding dress, rings, event planner, location, reception, honey moon to the Dominican and SO much more). I remember Teresa (see #33) telling me she overheard an A-Channel employee saying they gave our marriage 6 months before it ended, and thinking, "Imma show that biatch"... well. It will be 12 years in January, together for 13 on Dec. 29. How's that for "Suck my dick, I'm still married!"

A pic of me and Ron taken on the night we met. See? PINK SHIRT!!

24) I was 24 when I met Big Daddy and the short version of this story goes...I was working in Kelowna (see #35) when I decided to come back to Edmonton and hang with my cousin and his wife for New Years. In walks Big Daddy wearing a PINK (to this day he swears it's red & white) shirt; I was forever smitten. OK, well...honestly, he was suppose to be a one-night stand (see #27). But I looked passed all the cuddly crap and haven't looked back since. Except when I'm looking at my Mancandy boyfriends on TV like Jensen Ackles or LL Cool J.

Squeeeee! One of my boyfriends, Jensen Ackles from TV's Supernatural *giggle*

22) The press box at the Oilers games. See, once upon a time I was a sports writer, determined to be the best damned sports scribe in the business. NHL Hockey Hall of Fame sportswriter Jim Matheson once told me that I was a better writer at 20 than he was at that age. Oh hell yeh, I was so going places! But I gave it up and don't regret it although I can't watch hockey anymore with out feeling some remorse and sadness knowing that I could have been superbad awesome! Oh well, at least I know I was good and those times in the press box are memories I will always cherish.

21) Parkdale Elementary/Jr. High. I spent my Grades 7-9 years at this inner city school not realizing then what an impact it would have on my throughout my life. The school recently closed right before it's 100th year and when I went back to have a peek around, it was still as haunted as I remembered it. My friends who were with me throughout those years - Dawna, Kat, Cornelia, Lisa & Bernice - have no idea how they saved me. Those were the years when the sexual abuse started, it's when I became an older sister to my little brother Joe, it's when my favourite uncle Darrell died (he was a Scorpio too and had two jailbird tats of Scorpions done on his hands: one for me and one for him), it's when I started to develop the shell I built to protect myself from the stuff I still see if I let myself. Those friends... yeh. It's like the last line in the movie Stand By Me: "I never had any friends later on like the ones I had when I was 12 - Jesus, does anyone?"

My friends in junior high (no, I'm not in this pic)

20) Wow, I've kind of given y'all TMI about me. The Top 20 things won't be nearly as heavy! My Scorpion tat. So to mark my 21st birthday I tore a page out of the Cosmopolitan's Bedside Astrology Guide and had the image tattooed on my back. The next year I got my initials TLC tattooed underneath that Scorpion. I am a true Scorpion: feisty, hot headed, impatient, loyal, passionate, and not one to fuck with.

19) Coffee. If you know me at ALL you know I love my coffee.

18) Wine. Yup. Tis my thing. Love to swallow, I never spit.

17) Jersey Shore. My Guilty little pleasure! Makes me feel better about my own misspent 20s. And thankful as FUCK that reality TV or Youtube wasn't around back then!

16) Tony Soprano and Dexter. For some reason I relate to them. Yup. Guess I'm a sociopath on some level LOL

15) Debra Morgan and Masuka. DAMN! If they had a kid, it would be me! Swearing like a motherfucker, talkin' about the most inappropriate things at the most inappropriate times. *tweaking your nipples* What?

Deb Morgan (Jennifer Carpenter) from Dexter. We are SO much alike, I mean, look at her body, doode! It's like looking in a mirror. HA!

14) Anjulie. Cuz I'm like a Brand New Bitch!

13) Eminem. Because I can totally relate to him. And he's my boyfriend. (back off Karissa, I will smack you DOWN!)

12) Michael Buble. He personally wished me a happy birthday! With a kiss and EVERYTHING! And he offered me wine! See...

OK so this pic was in a book I got for my birthday (and yeh, I am now finishing this blog ON my actualy birthday) BUT I think he was THINKING of me when this picture was taken. Right? Exactly.

11) Wine. Did I mention wine? Yeh I'm mentioning it again because I love it. A lot.

10) West Edmonton Mall. Seriously, when they took the title sponsorship for the FIERCE Awards, I almost DIED! But instead, I did a vlog :D omg I look AWFUL in this. Whatevs.

9) Jasper Park Lodge. I love that place. I love the people who work there. I love the experiences I've had there. I love love LOVE everything about the JPL. If you haven't been, go. Seriously. Christmas in November... bucket list!

8) My Zen bubble. I meditate a lot and believe that the universe will always give me what I need, even if it's not what I want. Embracing my spiritual side has been the best thing I've ever done. I've grown so much over the past 10 years, more so in the last two but I credit most of it to allowing myself to be spiritual.

7) Twitter. Yup. I love my twits. If you're a twit, I love you too. Unless you're one of those crusty bitch twits. Then I'm just indifferent to you. Twitter has been SO much fun over the past 2 1/2 years and I love all of the online relationships that I've made during that time.

6) Sharon, Erica, Maria, Kathy, Kelli, Cheri-Lynn, Nataleeeeeee, Duri, Laurie, Laurel, Leslie and all of my OTHER cool friends that I met on twitter who live out east. I really like these girls (and Duri). Grateful to have them in my life :D

My Lola!!

5) Lola. Now this isn't a favourite kid thing, it's a "She just turned 6 but I still think of her as 5, is that weird?" thing. Lola is my littlest soulmate. I am in awe of her, truly. I always said that if I ever had a girl she had to be born with dark hair, green eyes, be born in November and be a Scorpio. Voila! The universe gave me my little green-eyed mini-me, proof that the universe DOES listen and give you what you need. I so need this little girl. She has taught me so much about myself and I could gush all day about how amazing she is.

4) Lash Extensions! I've become SO girly over the past year, even Big Daddy called me on it! Lash extensions make my already beeeeeeeautiful eyes even much more so! I call them my Snufalupagus lashes because they're so long and pretty! Flirt Eyelashes in Edmonton... $65 a set. MOM Approved.

3) FIERCE. The Awards were beyond anything I could have hoped for and I am looking forward to building on the momentum I have created. I am usually pretty humble about taking credit for what I do but FIERCE... yeh... I DID THAT! And I am SO proud of it!

2) MOM. The past almost 5 years of MOM have been great and truly a lesson in so many ways. I've met some inspiring and empowering women because of MOM and have grown into a better person because of this magazine.

1) Big Daddy. He knows all of my darkness and for some twisted reason still loves me. I may not show him every day just how truly grateful I am for him, but I am. Working on that whole "being nice" to him, too :D Now if only he would take out the goddamn garbage without it being a fight! Oh, I do love that man!!

A pain in the ass

2011-11-01T08:35:00.003-06:00

I've been with Big Daddy for almost 13 years now and married for 12. I know, I'm a saint; if you wish to express your condolences, send wine in lieu of flowers.

Carrying on... my point is that in those 13 years that Big Daddy has ~~put up with my shit~~ stuck with me through thick and thin (literally HA!), he has taken great pleasure in commenting on my wine consumption.

Yeh. I drink a lot of wine. I love it. What?

My smart ass retort to his smart ass comment is, "I'll curb the wine intake when you get a finger up your ass and get your prostate checked."

The big guy is now 42. And he STILL hasn't gone for a prostate exam.

I'm not gonna lie, there's some sick and twisted satisfaction I will get when he finally goes for this exam, mainly because of all the shit I had to endure giving birth and suffering the affects AFTER having kids.

Novemeber is "Movember" month and I'm not big on jumping on bandwagon causes because there's something new every month BUT I have this thing about Big Daddy's potential death from causes other than me.

I want him to get it checked. I've been a pain in his ass for almost 13 years... what's a finger from the doctor gonna hurt? A hell of a lot more if he doesn't get it checked, let me tell you.

Talking about things that are out of our comfort zone, and making taboo conversations a little less awkward is kind of my specialty.

So let's talk about prostate cancer. Finger up the butt, early detection, save a life.

We give birth, what the hell should be so embarrassing or uncomfortable for a guy to drop trow in a doctor's office and get a cancer check?

Send the guy in your life to get tested.

I said so.

FIERCE Hangover

2011-10-23T07:32:00.000-06:00

I had to take a few days to decompress from the FIERCE Awards.

The event was beyond what I had envisioned this year, draining me emotionally, physically and mentally, and reinvigorating me at the same time.

Three weeks ago, I was on the verge of cancelling the event.

Some people were complaining about the stupidest things, causing me to question why I was doing this event in the first place. I guess some people feel entitled and just like to bitch about things just for the sake of it, so I considered the sources of the complaints and and what they were bitching about, and moved past it.

I was also having a really tough time finding sponsors for the event and it made me wonder if anyone else could see the vision I had with the FIERCE Awards. I thought maybe I was deluding myself with the idea of this celebration, I mean who am I to put this together or want to honour and recognize amazing women?

When that thought "Who am I?" popped into my head, I immediately flashed back to an interview I did with Danielle Laporte who said...

"We don't give ourselves permission to want what we want.You can't get what you want if you're not fully owning your desire that you want it in the first place.

"You've got to close the gap between desire and giving yourself permission to own that desire, and then when you're there you become magnetic. And in addition to becoming magnetic and attracting the stuff you really want... you get more smart! You start to think more clearly, you're not teasing yourself with 'Do I have permission? Am I good enough? Am I worthy? How am I gonna get it? Who am I? Who am I to want what I want?'

"So you close that gap, you think smarter, you act smarter and you get really strategic about your desire."

Then there was the mice, the break-in (the mice were burglers in their own rights, too but we had an actual thief who stole my jewelry), and I thought I was gonna snap. I surrendered to the universe, I gave up and said I couldn't take any more.

But just as it was all going to shit, it all came together.

Miss Boss came on board as a sponsor (while my house was being broken in to none-the-less), and I returned home to blog about my gratitude and how the sign from Bob Marley meant that Every Little Thing was gonna be all right... Then I noticed my house had been broken in to and in shock, was tweeting about it, devastated at the intrusion, swearing at the universe for fucking with me, and about to just QUIT on the FIERCE Awards when I got this tweet:

My jaw dropped, I sobbed, I was so happy/sad/shocked/still pissed at the universe for fucking with me.

All of that happened within hours, it was seriously weird, as though the universe was in some sort of transition from smackin' me across the head with a big stick to hugging me and saying, "Ha! Sorry about that! It was fun while it lasted!"

And then Shelley Streit, The Cash Creator, generously offered to help in any way she could and became a VIP sponsor as well. And then my twitter friend Kathleen George, founder of Kikkiplanet.com offered to be a category sponsor as well and THEN...

West Edmonton Mall...the gold ring! The "I-never-thought-in-a-million-years-I-would-be-lucky-enough-to-get-them-to-talk-to-me-let-alone-sponsor-FIERCE" DREAM sponsor!

Danielle was right.

And you know who I am?

I am FIERCE!

I am TAMARA!

And hell to the YES I made it happen!

I walked around the FIERCE Awards Thursday night in awe of what was happening. The energy in that room was magical, inspirational, and I was awe-struck by the buzz that I had created. Everyone was having a good time, cheering each other on; there was laughter, tears, clapping, standing ovations.

The night was a success.

Even though I was sleep-deprived, hadn't eaten all day, and frantically ran around doing last-minute things for the event (including a 5 minute spot on CTV for their 5 p.m. show), I felt so grateful for the sense of community I seemed to create, if only for that night.

It was a night I will never forget, and I hope the people who were lucky enough to experience FIERCE felt a fraction of the magical energy that I felt.

Ha! That is all.

2011-10-15T07:22:00.001-06:00

Still Standing

2011-10-14T16:34:00.003-06:00

Oh listen to me now
I'm gonna say it loud

So you won't be confused

By what we're talking 'bout

I've been through the storm

Had dirt on my name

I'm still holding on

Champion of the game

They say whatever don't kill you makes you stronger

Well I must be the world's strongest woman

See I done a whole lot of growing, everything you say I'm already knowing...

cause I've been up against the ropes

Everything you going through I've been there before

Seen 'em all come and seen 'em all go

You can bet your last that my head won't hit the floor

NEVER

I'm still standing

Choices

2011-10-13T08:16:00.000-06:00

Everyone has choices in this world.

You can choose to thrive in happiness or you can choose to wallow in self-pity.

You can choose to flourish in love or you can choose to drown in hate.

You can choose to fight in anger or you can choose walk away in apathy.

You can choose to cry from drama or you can choose smile in contentment.

You can choose to be a victim or you can choose grow in resilience.

You can choose to be blind with narcissism or you can choose see everything with compassion.

You can choose to be smug with selfishness or you can choose to be modest with selflessness.

You can choose to walk your own path or you can choose to follow without thought.

What do you choose?

Are you FIERCE?

2011-10-10T12:00:00.001-06:00

Wow, 10 days till FIERCE!

I'm so excited about this event, it showcases women who make a difference and who have been recognized by their peers or colleagues.

FIERCE is not a popularity contest, which is one of the main reasons I decided against a People's Choice award for the event. Thankfully I have a wonderful panel of judges (Erica Ehm, Connie Peters, Karen Kay & Kelly Falardeau) who are solely responsible for choosing the winners, allowing me to be free to produce this event.

It's been a lot of work with a good learning curve this year, too, but I am pleased with the overall response I am getting from the nominees and sponsors, even the nominators.

Of course with all of the positive there is the negative but that's OK, too.

I know that once all is said and done, the positive will always outweigh the negative. Last year when the event was over, I left feeling disappointed about the overall event, thinking it could have been bigger, better and done on a more grande scale. This year, I aimed higher but with a bigger event comes a bigger workload and a LOT of early mornings.

But that's OK too!

Because to see so many deserving women recognized and honoured is gratifying in a way I cannot express. I hope they enjoy their spotlight and cheer each other on at the event because that is what FIERCE is really about; women celebrating each other's successes and supporting each other through their failures.

It will be a great night with some of the most inspirational and empowering women I have ever had the privilege of meeting, as well as some women I've yet to meet.

Tickets are still available! Click here for details.

Come and be inspired! Are you coming to the event? Are you as freakin' PUMPED about this as I am?! What are you wearing?

Hey you, Judgy McJudgerton

2011-10-09T07:14:00.002-06:00

Yeh, I'm talking to you.

I just read a post by Bored Mommy on Babble.com and, if I'm being honest here, I don't usually read mommy bloggers because they annoy me HOWEVER this post title caught my attention: Stop Judging Other Mothers.

Hell to the motherfuckin' YES!

I have seen a lot of twitter drama lately in the mommy industry and it honestly makes me want to bitchslap someone. Instead I take my frustrations out at Crossfit (seriously, you HAVE to try it. I digress, bear with me I'm on coffee #3 and well-rested after 11 hours of sleep. SQUIRREL!)

Ahem.

Twitter drama. WTF, ladies, are you in junior high? No. So quit acting like it.

All this bullshit about breastfeeding, baby-wearing, nursing in public, discipline ("Gasp! Can you believe she spanked her child?!?!"), my-opinion-is-right-because-I-speak-the-truth, and other catty bullshit, is pathetic.

Since when did you become all holier-than-thou, high-and-mighty?

Get off your high horse, honey.

We all have our own ways of raising OUR kids. See that? OUR kids. Not YOUR kids. You raise yours, I'll raise mine.

Do what you need to do to raise happy, healthy brats. I could care less how you do it, just quit with the fuckin' JUDGING.

When does the judging stop? Gay bashing? Racism? Do you judge someone based on their race or sexuality? Who gave you that right? Judging another MOM based on her choices as a parent to PARENT her own child is beyond words. Why do you care what choices she makes? Are they affecting you? Does her choice of whether or not she breastfeeds or baby wraps have a DIRECT impact on you? Probably not. So are you judging just to hear yourself speak? "I'm going to yell the loudest about my indignation of this woman's choices! How dare she choose something I don't agree with!"

Funny thing about choices, we live in a FREE country where women get the chance vote and *gasp* even become leaders of this country!

Do you realize how stupid you look when you make catty comments? Or hide behind your twitter accounts? Oh yeh, you're tough online. It's easy to hide behind a computer and say things you would NEVER dare say to someone's face, isn't it?

I don't care what your choices are just don't force them down my throat unless you want to drop the gloves for real because I promise you, there is nothing I would say online or about someone that I wouldn't have the balls to say to your face.

I am TRYING to create a community of NO CATTY BULLSHIT here, ladies. So grow the fuck up and quit with the mama drama. Learn to celebrate each other, work with each other and play NICE. Keep that school yard shit in the past where it belongs.

I'm sick of seeing women tear each other apart with snarky ass comments, condescending tones and smug arrogance. You're not better than me, I'm not better than you and NO ONE is a better MOM than YOU ARE.

So why does it matter what you feed your kid, whether or not you swear in front of them, how you discipline (child abuse is not cool, btw, I do not advocate or endorse that but I have been known to swat my kids on the ass as they walk by) or ultimately how you raise your OWN children?

The so-called self-proclaimed leaders/experts/whatever title you have given yourself need to recognize that if you are a business who is judging OTHER MOMs/women, you are only damaging your own reputation.

Yeh, MOM is the "anti-June Cleaver" magazine but I could care less if you bake from scratch and wear an apron everyday. I'm making my kids Halloween costumes, who am I to judge?

But right now, I'm judging you right now for being a judgemental biatch.

So quit with the drama, quit with the bullshit and act your fuckin' age.

Ahem. I have another coffee to drink.

Getting back to good

2011-10-09T06:09:00.001-06:00

This time last year, I was in the middle of the worst depression I had ever faced.

I was two weeks away from hosting the first-ever FIERCE Awards, and I had become a shadow of my former self. Where I was normally a colourful and vibrant person, I only emitted dull, grey energy. Where I had once had a zest for life that was contagious, I had become sad, lifeless almost.

I didn't want to host the FIERCE Awards last year but I was obligated to because there was a list of nominees who had already been denied their celebration in April because after my granpa died, I was too drained emotionally to get my shit together.

I started getting emails in May asking about the FIERCE awards and knew I had to do something to celebrate the wonderful women who had been nominated so I made it happen, and truthfully it was probably the real start of my healing process.

Looking back at the last year, I see myself for who I was, what I became, and the steps I took/am taking to get back to get back to where I was.

I'm not proud of my behaviour. A lot of people who didn't know me but had met me were seeing the dark version of Tamara, not the REAL me. Maybe at the time that was the "real" me but it was not who I truly am.

Flash forward to this Thanksgiving and I am filled with gratitude for the people who helped me over these past couple of years and especially to Big Daddy who (for some strange reason that I will never comprehend) decided not to throw that wine bottle into a wood chipper knowing I would dive in to save it.

I try to practice gratitude every day thanks to my BFF and girl-version of Big Daddy, Karissa (seriously, they are so damn similar it scares me). Karissa gave me Louise Hay's Meditations to Heal Your Life and Deepak Chopra's Seven Spiritual Laws of Success, ultimately forcing me to embrace my spirituality, hence practicing gratitude.

But today, looking back and reflecting on everything, I know how fortunate I am to be in such a better place, emotionally.

This time next year, I hope to be blogging about how much healthier I am, physically.

On my journey of getting back to good, my next and final step is my health. Last week I started Crossfit at Crossfit Aurora, and although I felt like puking after the first class, I went back the next day.

Because I am not giving up on myself.

Not when I have so much to be thankful for.

Happy Thanksgiving!

14 Days till FIERCE...

2011-10-05T05:26:00.000-06:00

FIERCE Awards are 14 days away (buy tickets or sponsor this event pretty please) *batting my eyelash extensions*

I started a new workout program with Crossfit Aurora on Monday that takes 3 hours out of my day (45 min there, 70 min Crossfit, 45 min home).

Halloween is sneaking up on me and I have costumes to make my kids (Oz wants to be Link, Lola wants to be Zelda) *SMH*

Lola will be SIX in less than a month so I have her birthday to plan and execute.

I am now involved in the Go Blue 4 U fundraiser to raise $$ for Mental Illness Awareness Week because it's no secret depression and I are archenemies.

I've been up since 2 a.m. this morning, updating the MOM website because, you know, fresh content is always good!

And I haven't felt this energized or refreshed in a LONG TIME!! I thrive on this kind of pressure! But I learned from Danielle LaPorte to schedule "burnout time." She goes hard like I do and eventually needs to just "burnout."

And that's OK.

My burnout time will include a LONG OVERDUE trip to my happy place, SIN CITY, where I will be researching all things deviant and debauchery so I can report back to you with MOM's Guide to Vegas 2.0 (OK, it's not ALL deviance and debauchery but it sure isn't the PG Version for Moms!).

Before Ron and I escape reality to Vegas we will be chillin' out at the Jasper Park Lodge for their signature event "Christmas in November" which will be a nice way to wind down after the Tazmanian Devil that is my October.

I'm kind of spacing out right now, I can't believe there are only 14 days left until the FIERCE Awards. And I'm really sore from Crossfit *wince* but totally pumped to find a workout I love.

If anyone wants to come and clean my house for me, I would be more than grateful and pay you in ~~wine~~ ~~nipple pinches~~ coffee :D It's good karma, you know. Think about it :D

Later kids, I have a FIERCE gala to bring to life! *seriously, get your early bird tickets before 6 p.m on Oct. 7 or consider becoming a sponsor*

owwwmotherfkinowwwwww

2011-10-05T04:58:00.000-06:00

I started Cross Fit on Monday.

#thatisall

Vlog to come. It's not pretty.

Thanks to Crossfit Aurora for putting up with my whiny ass while I get my badass self back into fighting form. And if you think I swear a lot on Twitter or here, come to a Crossfit class with me.

I can't type anymore now, it hurts.

Later.

t.

Every little thing...

2011-09-29T13:32:00.002-06:00

I had a wee bit of a meltdown yesterday.

If you follow me on Twitter you may have heard that a mouse decided to move in last week... went something like this:

Anyhooters, I have had a seriously tense week wondering if that mouse was going to nibble on my toes while I worked so mornings have kind of sucked for me. Add to that a cold that had me on my deathbed for a few days, PMS, the FIERCE awards, PLUS kids who want to be fed and talked to, and I have been one tense chiquita.

My mother phoning me yesterday was the proverbial straw.

Planning the FIERCE awards is no easy feat and I'm not complaining because the universe knows I do this to myself but sometimes between looking for sponsors, finding the right venue, planning the event, designing the certificates and promo posters, writing the press release, updating the website, keeping up on Twitter & Facebook, sending out tickets, keeping it all organized, and wondering if it really makes a difference to anyone whether or not these awards are even held... the universe sends me a sign.

I don't listen to the radio much but was driving home from securing one of our first sponsors the FIERCE Awards (Yay to Miss Boss for presenting the VIP Reception!!) and I was stressing about the cash crunch for these awards when I absent-mindedly hit the radio button and my eyes popped open as soon as I heard the steel drums.

This is what I heard:

Sayin' this is my message to you... Singin' don't worry... 'cause every little thing's gonna be all right.

The sign was in a form of Bob Marley's hit song, Everything's Gonna Be All Right.

I smiled and knew that something I had tweeted earlier in the day had set me on the right path:

And on that note, I have a FIERCE awards gala to put together!

UPDATE: Definition of irony: About an hour after I wrote this post I realized my house had been broken into and my jewelry was stolen. Sigh.

I still trust the universe and know it really will be all right.

My kryptonite

2011-09-28T10:42:00.004-06:00

I'm pretty tough. Not much gets me down and keeps me there. But even when I am down for the count, I always manage to come back better than ever.

But even Superman had his kryptonite and so do I.

There is one person that never fails to paralyze my spirit, cause me ridiculous amounts of tension, triggers me to the point of wanting to either punch someone or curl up in my blankets and shut everyone out.

My mother.

I don't have a relationship with her. I haven't had one in a long time and even when I did have a "relationship" with her, it was toxic. Our relationship isn't strained because she was "the meddling mom" or even "the strict mom" or not even "the fussy mom." We have no relationship for so many reasons that a blog won't cover.

I get that I am who I am today because of the shit I went through growing up and if I were in the mood to be all Zen right now, I would tell you that I should be thankful for lessons I learned from my mother. I mean, after all , I learned to NOT choose abusive relationships thanks to her. I learned that moms should ALWAYS choose their kids over a man especially when that so-called "man" is beating and sexually abusing your kids. I learned that it's not OK to leave your kids in a car while you're drinking in a bar until 3 am. I learned that using Welfare as a crutch and playing the victim role your entire life will get you NO WHERE.

Yeh, I'm pretty fuckin' grateful.

I don't want my kids around her when I can't even maintain any level of composure when she's around. This woman triggers me like no one else ever has and, yes, I've done all the "let it go, forgive" crap and for the most part I'm usually OK with it.

But then she phones me. And my blood pressure skyrockets. And my shoulders tense. And my fists clench. And the rage comes washing over me and I feel like I'm drowning in it.

Deeeeeep breath.

I am the mom I am today because of the mom she never was. I am the woman I am today because of the woman SHE was. I made a lot of choices based on what I saw growing up and even though I tried my best to save her, I never could.

You can only take on that kind of baggage for so long before it becomes an anchor and you are either going down with that ship or you break the ties completely and save yourself. Clearly, I chose the latter.

But ever once in a while, only when she wants or needs something, she will call. It's not often, like once a year, maybe twice but I never know it's her until I pick up the phone because she is never in the same place for very long.

She wasn't always like the person she became. In fact, some of my early memories are of her laughing, her dazzling smile, her charismatic personality, her easy way of making other people feel comfortable. When I think about those times, it breaks my heart because she could have had such a better life but she made so many bad choices. She continues to make them and it just is what it is.

I go from rage to sadness when I hear from her because there are so many times I wish I had a mom who was there for me. I wish she had the strength to walk away the first time she was beaten. Or even the second time. I wish she was the mom I remembered not the woman I know now.

She can't be saved because you can only save someone who wants to be saved. I guess I just have to keep learning from her mistakes and be the best mom to my kids that I can.

What's your kryptonite?

The other woman

2011-09-22T07:38:00.003-06:00

I admit it, there's someone else.

She came into my life not long ago, enticing me with her quick & easy ways... she sure knew what I wanted, needed, even.

She was fast and cheap; hot and ready; she had me at hello.

She knew I didn't have much time but she was there when I needed her the most. Big Daddy didn't even know about her until he caught us together but he wasn't surprised; I think he suspected all along. He didn't seem to mind, though, he just smiled at us and asked if he could help. Of course I said no, I mean, it wasn't going to take me long to finish so there was no point in including him.

Her name is Jane and she is my dirty little secret.

But I like to share because, well, sharing is caring and Jane should be shared.

I've always been skeptical of frozen, fast foods but have always loved the convenience, especially when supper hasn't been planned ahead or I'm not feeling like creating cuisine from scratch but when Janes Family Foods offered to send me this gift basket of their latest products, I thought, "What the hell? I like easy!"

I never expected to LOVE these FlatJacks (approx. $6 at Wal-Mart) in fact I had no idea what the hell a FlatJack was. I figured it was some sort of toaster pancake but was pleasantly surprised to find they are chicken snacks you pop in your toaster. No fuss, no muss, no stress, no mess.

Being the creative type I am ~~totally not~~ I decided to make Oz and Lola a quickie supper with them, and since Lola is somewhat of a picky eater and I'm certain a vegetarian (except for her weird obsession with bacon), I usually end up making two versions of supper: one plain, one with flavour.

For Oz, I made a double FlatJack sandwich with cheese and lettuce on a bun with ketchup. He polished if off in record time and asked for a second sandwich!

For the fusspot, I toasted the FlatJack, cut it up and served the bun on the side. I added the ketchup in hopes she would use it (what kid, other than Lola, doesn't love ketchup?!) but she refused to even acknowledge the chicken that had been touched by the ketchup. Her vegetarian tendencies aside, she not only ATE the FlatJacks but she declared her LOVE for the FlatJacks.

I admit it, I tried one and was not only impressed by the flavour of these little snacks but loved that they weren't crap. You moms know what I'm talking about here, there are certain brands of frozen foods that are made from crap and you hate feeding them to your family but sometimes do as an alternative to cooking ... yeh I didn't feel guilty about serving this. Not one little bit.

I'm also a fan of Jane's seafood products as they are MSC approved which means they only use sustainable fish and seafood.

So now you know about Jane. I have no shame or remorse for my love affair with her and I certainly plan on using her again and again. Hell maybe even next time I'll let Big Daddy not only watch but join in!

Oh and as an added bonus, Jane's is giving away a gift basket with a Black & Decker toaster and gift certificates to try out their fantastic products. Post a comment and I will have Oz & Lola draw a random winner.

PS: For your info...

All for one and one for all, bitches!

2011-09-19T17:30:00.000-06:00

There is nothing more empowering than women who celebrate each other's successes, and last night's show of support from the women in the Best Actress in a Comedy series at the 2011 Primetime Emmys was one of the show's most touching, poignant moments I've ever seen on any awards ceremony let alone any other medium.

I not often moved by TV moments (although I'm not gonna lie, I cried when Beverly Hills 90210 went off the air) so when I first saw Amy Poehler walk up onto the stage when Rob Lowe announced her as the first nominee, I kinda thought mayyyybe... she was either tipsy (ok, drunk) or confused OR she was going to pull a Kanye West and interrupt presenters Rob and Sofia Vergara, but instead they just looked oddly at her. And when they announced Melissa McCarthy's name and SHE went up on stage, I was seriously confused, wondering what the hell they were doing.

But as I watched all the women go up on stage as their names were called, I couldn't help feeling some sort of pride for women everywhere because, even though it was clearly staged, it proved that women could be in a competing category but still support and celebrate their successes without it being a pretentious "How nice for her" clap.

They were genuinely excited for each other, truly proud to be in the category together and heartfelt hugs were given to Melissa when she was crowned the "Queen of Comedy" for the event. I teared up, I was in awe of these women, and I was inspired by their grace, authentic joy for each other and the moment where the women were so grateful to celebrate and BE celebrated for their accomplishments.

Girls, we can all take a page from these funny bitches' notebook:

Celebrate the successes of other women, don't knock down their accomplishments.
Be genuinely happy when you see another woman soar, don't be snarky and spiteful with your comments.
Use your powers for good, not evil. If you can't be happy for another woman's success, keep your negative energy to yourself
If you find yourself competing with another business woman, find a way to work with her instead of against her

It is the same thing I hope to see more often and, more specifically, hope to bring with the FIERCE networking group and the 2011 FIERCE Women of the Year awards.

Because those actresses, they embody the idea of FIERCE:
Females Inspiring Each other in a REAL Community of Empowerment

Care to inspire and be inspired? Click here for details!

Jump to the 30 sec mark to see the presentation.

With all his faults...

2011-09-17T08:54:00.002-06:00

Now, I don't usually get all mushy in public (or private for that matter) but I woke up this morning feeling ridiculously grateful for my life. I attribute a lot of my personal growth to one person: my husband.

The first night we met

When I met Ron, aka Big Daddy, I was 24 years old, arrogant, broken in so many ways that I didn't even know how badly my spirit was battered, and fiercely independent. There were so many mornings when I would wake up and he would tell me that I had cried in my sleep or mumbled awful things about my past, things I never remembered let alone remembered saying.

I often wondered if I had always been like that, battling demons in my sleep all those years. When I was awake, I guarded myself with this bullet-proof exterior; no one would hurt me the way I had been hurt and no one would get close enough to me again. My best friend, Teresa, who had known me since high school, always called me "Dally" from The Outsiders because I lived by his saying,

"You get tough like me and you don't get hurt. You look out for yourself and nothing can touch you."

I really lived that way for a long time. Even years into myrelationship/marriage with Ron, I expected him to give up on me and leave. Ilook back at it now and honestly wonder how/why the hell he stayed. I know whyI was the way I was; losing my grandma when I was 19 and the death of aboyfriend I was in love with when I was 21, made me push people away beforethey could leave me. I wonder if I had someone to help me through all of that, if I would have been less jaded and more trusting but I guess it is what it is.

Vegas, baby!

Anyway, for years, I pushed people away and refused to let anyone get close to me. I'm still very guarded with who I let into my life but not nearly as much as I was when I was in my 20s. My circle of friends, real friends, is small and mostly consist of people who have seen me at my worst and are still around.

Ron and I have been together for 12 years, married for 11, and he tells me every day that he loves me, even if I have been the most awful person in the world to him. A lot of times when he says, "I love you" I don't reply, "I love you, too," I ask why. It's kind of become a joke now and he sighs and says, "Yes." I whine a little bit and say, "But WHY!?" to which he rolls his eyes and says, "Because you're relentless."

He really loves me which still boggles my mind. It's not that I think I don't deserve to be loved but he has seen me at my absolute worst and is still here, not out of obligation but because he truly loves me, faults and all.

Stettler Steam train, look at how sexy he is!

Our wedding song was It Had To Be You and I used to sing to him, "With all your faults, I love you still," when in reality, I saw him as faultless but knew that I was riddled with many. I've since been able to see that he is not perfect but his flaws are limited to the following:

He double-checks EVERYTHING. It's annoying. I could tell him the sky is blue and he would have to look for himself to see.

He thinks he is smarter than everyone else. Sadly, he is. He is extremely methodic, rational and intelligent. He is argumentative, stubborn, and somewhat smug. It's annoying.

He rarely gets emotional about anything. Overly happy, overly sad, overly angry, overly ANYTHING. I am a Scorpio. I feel everything intensely: love, hate, anger, passion, joy. Everything. He does not. It's annoying.

He hates anything that resembles manual labour and hates to be "told" to do anything. It's really annoying.

I guess I can look past his flaws and be happy I have such great guy.

Back in Vegas, baby! I love his scruff!!

Because he double-checks everything, I don't have to. I trust that he will take care of the little things I neglect or miss.

Because he is so smart, we have some fiery conversations which results in an extremely volcanic relationship. He challenges me to be better than I think I am.

Because he rarely gets overly emotional about anything, I am able to. He is a calming force in my life, he never overreacts, and has patience to spare. It takes a lot for me to piss him off (thank coffee!) and he just smiles when I get goofy with excitement over the dorkiest things.

Because he hates manual labour or being told to do anything... yeh, that's still annoying :D

But I love him, still.

Because when I look into my future, I am happy to see us together, still annoying the hell out of each other and still looking at him with my big, blue eyes, asking him why he loves me.

And if I haven't said it before, I'm a lucky girl to have such a wonderful guy.

I swear he gets sexier with age!

Impure thoughts... gotta love 'em!

2011-09-12T11:52:00.004-06:00

It never fails to amaze me how uptight some people are when it comes to sex.

Sex. It's what makes the world go 'round. You do it. You have had it. Chances are, it's how you got to be a MOM.

Everybody does it.

Now unless it involves rape, bestiality, kids, incest or anything of the sort WHY must it be something you should feel ashamed of?

Sex feels good.

When you do it right, it feels GREAT!

I recently came across an event for married couples to "fix" the sexual impurities in your relationship. Ugh, it's a good thing my eyes can't roll back into my head because I was thoroughly annoyed by this "be ashamed" mentality.

You should never think about another man or woman!

Kink or taboo is deviant and you are sick for even thinking about it!

Fantasy is wrong!

Sex is the physical expression of love and only meant to be enjoyed between a man and a woman!

Good girls don't enjoy sex!

You're a MOM now, you should act like one! MOMs do not have sex!

Porn is the devil's work! It destroys marriages which are the purist form of love on this earth!

Ugh, OK, I can't even write anymore stereotypical bullshit about sex because it makes me want to smack someone with a dildo.

I had a lightbulb moment when I was tweeting my frustration about these stereotypes and boxed mentality.

Most "coaches" who teach this type of thinking are sexually repressed. If they weren't they wouldn't be so concerned with making you feel ashamed about "impure" thoughts or exploring your sexuality.

I get that some women are only comfortable in the missionary position with the lights off and the doors closed but that is unhealthy too.

Embrace your sexuality: Allowing yourself to be free of your inhibitions is empowering! If you're ashamed of your body, for every flaw you think you have, find two positive attributes about yourself and focus on them.

Enable yourself: You are an adult who is allowed to enjoy the physical pleasures of sex. Don't buy into the "Good girls aren't suppose to like dirty sex" mentality. Sex does not equal love and love does not equal sex.

Communicate your desires to your partner: Sharing is caring and if you can't trust your partner with your deepest, darkest desires then who can you trust? Try things together, explore, be open to enjoying new things. Not everything may be your cuppa Kama Sutra but you never know unless you try.

It's like food... you may look at it and think, "Oh hell no, I'm not putting that in my mouth," but once you open your mind and try it, you may discover you like it. And if you don't, that's OK too.

Sex isn't dirty: It's fantastic! Quiet those voices in your head that tell you watching porn is disgusting and wrong, or talking dirty is inappropriate, or using sex toys is only something sluts do. Read some erotica, masturbate before you get to the actual act of having sex (yes, I said masturbate, did you know that an orgasm a day extends your life span?), or fantasize about having your way with George Clooney or Angelina Jolie. Do what YOU need to do in order to keep taking your sex life to the next level.

Vanilla sex = B-O-R-I-N-G:

Whatever you do, take steps to breaking free of the guilt/shame/what-if-someone-thinks-I'm-a-freak mentality. Breathe deeply and let the orgasms flow!

Enabling you as always...

September 11: Ten Years Later

2011-09-09T09:31:00.001-06:00

9/11 is one of those moments in your life that you tuck away into your memories but when the "anniversary" comes up, your recollection of the event is as fresh as the day it happened.

I wasn't in New York when it happened.

I didn't lose anyone in the terrorist attacks that brought down the Twin Towers in New York or the plane crash into the Pentagon in Arlington, VA, or United Flight 93 that crashed into a field near Shanksville, PA.

I wasn't directly affected by 9/11 but 10 years ago when I woke up and watched live coverage of the attacks and then watched in disbelief as the second plane crashed into the South Tower, my life was affected.

I refuse to put up a pic of the Twin Towers falling. I choose to remember the NY Skyline this way.

I was 26 years old and four months pregnant with Oz and I remember sobbing in the bathroom, apologizing to my unborn son for bringing him into such an awful world. I couldn't believe what was happening in the US and I felt awful for everyone who WAS affected by the attacks.

When I woke up Big Daddy and told him what was happening, he looked at me like I had said the moon had fallen out of the sky. He was sure I was misunderstanding what was happening on the news because there was no way it could be real.

Keep reading to see why I love these guys

We watched what we could, glued to the TV while getting ready for work and when I eventually left, I searched every Edmonton radio station I could for updates on what was happening and the ONLY station I found that had continual coverage was K97.

Now if you're not an Edmontonian you probably don't realize the reputation K97 has... they're known for their inappropriate remarks, vulgar comments, objectification of women and edgy marketing campaigns. They're kind of the guy-version of MOM except they are radio and really popular :D

Listening to the somber voices of the usually goofy Terry Evans, Bill Cowan & Steve Zimmerman discuss the events and the impact of what was happening in the US, boggled my mind. I remember wondering why NO OTHER STATION felt it necessary to provide ongoing details of the attacks but these guys, these highly inappropriate DJs whom I had always rolled my eyes at, were serious and kept me informed.

I literally (and I mean just-now-as-I'm-writing-this-post-and-got-to-this-paragraph literally) was discussing my recollection of 9/11 with Terry via Twitter when he told me what was going on in the studio that day.

"I remember being so confused when the 2nd plane hit...that was Steve's 40th birthday. We had strippers outside studio door ready.

"There was whipped cream and cherries and all kinds of shit ready to go.

"Sudden left turn. Strippers went home."

See, it didn't matter what was happening in your life at that moment or if your personality wasn't warm and fuzzy. If you had an ounce of humanity or selflessness, 9/11 brought it out for the world to see.

You didn't have to be in New York to be affected by 9/11. It was like a tsunami effect; the tragic events in the States were felt by all of humanity, and the outpouring of compassion and empathy was reassuring that the entire world hadn't gone to shit.

For that one event, that one tragedy that will forever be ingrained in the memories of those who were alive to witness it, changed so many things for so many people.

However, life goes on; people have to move forward but that doesn't mean we forget what happened that day or where we were when it happened or how it affected us and to what degree.

Sept. 11 is and always will be one of those days that will mark a black day in the history of the world, one that no one can ignore or should ever forget.

I know I never will.

t.

Mamas don't let your babies grow up to be haters

2011-09-01T10:29:00.001-06:00

I've always had issues with societies idea of beauty and weight, even when I was at my most fit (right before I got pregnant with Lola, and let me tell you I was bangin' hot, sexy fit!) up until now when I've gone through a few of the worst years of my life and am at my heaviest (soooo not me but I am getting back to healthy although I will NEVER give up my wine or coffee).

Lately I've been watching the comments on twitter made about starlet Demi Levato, who I really know nothing about other than she's young, recently went to rehab for an eating disorder that she battled since childhood, depression (she was diagnosed as bipolar) and cutting (she was photographed a couple of years ago with scars on her wrists, something she hid from her parents).

In April, Demi gave a full interview on 20/20, opening up about her life and the struggles she faced as a child star, being called fat and how it led to the eating disorder.

Last weekend at the Much Music VMA's, Demi was photographed on the red carped with her friend Selena Gomez.

And then the twitter backlash started.

Tweets from all over calling her fat.

In a classy move stemming from an obviously new mindset, Demi's only comment to the public was:

Guess what, I'm healthy and happy, and if you're hating on my weight you obviously aren't. :) #UNBROKEN

Now I realize how easy it is to judge people and hide behind the anonymity of twitter or facebook or a blog but the reality is parents can no longer be allowed to raise hateful, spiteful kids.

I have a daughter who is 5 years old and I will not allow her to grow up with an unhealthy body image or thinking that having curves is wrong. Right now Lola is a string bean but I have a sneaking suspicion she will take after me with boobs, hips and a butt, and I don't want her thinking she's "fat" because she is blessed with curves.

My mom used to refer to Twiggy and other models as the "ideal" body type and I was always self-conscious of my curves but I was never overweight (until the last few years). It wasn't until I was in my 30s that I embraced every fabulous inch of my curvalicious body that I became comfortable in my own skin, and I don't want that for Lola. I want her to be healthy, happy and grateful for what she has not for her to look at other girls and wish she had their body type.

Parents are responsible for changing the mentality that is "acceptable" in society and we can't let our kids (boys OR girls) think it's OK to make fun of someone based on their weight.

Parents tend to pass down their own belief systems to their kids whether it's politcs, religion, lifestyle habits or whatever but we also pass down our insecurities, our way of treating other people and other life lessons intentionally or not.

Show don't tell

I learned a great lesson when I studied Journalism in college from a brilliant prof who shaped my thinking in a lot of things I do today but the one thing I took with me into life was the lesson "Show, don't tell."

Great lesson for a writer but a FANTASTIC lesson to learn as a human being.

If you're a mom who obsesses about your weight, your kids will pick that up whether or not you actually complain about your weight around them or obsess about it just through your actions.

If you're the mom who watches Entertainment Tonight and your kids are in the room but they hear you make snide comments about Ke$ha's hair or Lady Gaga's nose or Anna's gap between her front teeth or that Angelina is WAY too skinny but Demi has pudged up... think about what you're teaching your kids.

Here's how:

Don't teach your kid to diet, teach them to make healthy choices.
Instead of focusing on your worst physical traits, focus on emphasizing your BEST assets.
When your daughter sees you put on makeup, remind them that makeup does NOT make you beautiful then go over the things that truly make her beautiful (she's kind, she's generous, she's thoughtful, she's intelligent, she's funny, etc)
Find something good about everyone and point it out rather than pointing out their flaws. I'm in awe of Lola because everywhere we go she will go up to at least one stranger (with my permission of course) and tell them something she likes about them; their hair, their dress, their smile, etc).

Kids are extensions of ourselves, we may as well make them BETTER versions of ourselves. We have the power to shape their mindsets when they are young, why shape them into some negative, disrespectful little bully who feels better about themselves when they belittle others?

Body shapes aren't a one-size fits all

This generation of MOMs has a REAL opportunity to change a lot of the traditional stereotypes by changing the way our kids perceive the world and how they treat others.

No one is perfect and we all have our moments but overall we need to really make some serious changes with the way people think and it starts within our own homes.

Body shapes aren't a one-size-fits-all.

Cheers!

Toxic People

2011-08-18T08:47:00.000-06:00

I am a firm believer in cutting toxic people and relationships out of your life.

I've done it more times than I can count because I learned at an early age that not everyone BELONGS OR DESERVES to be a part of your life.

Consider this. If you had a tumour you would remove it, yes?

So why keep someone or something in your life that continually brings negative energy to it? Why hand someone that power? Why allow anyone or anything to contribute drama or sadness or grief when there are enough times in your life you will have to deal with REAL grief or sadness?

A few years back I made the decision to remove my mom from my life completely. It was something I should have done years sooner but it took a lot of healing on my part to become strong enough to do it. It was only when I had Lola that I realized the type of influence I wanted in my daughter's life and I made the decision to fully cut ties with my mom. I had already kept Oz away from her but it never really hit me how toxic she was until my littlest soul came into my life.

I love my mom, I do, but she is toxic and will never change. She is also very weak and that isn't something I tolerate nor do I want my daughter seeing that type of female influence because my daughter will never grow up the way I did; surrounded by toxic people.

There have also been times that I have removed friends from my life and other times when I have been cut out of someone's life because I was toxic (I'm not perfect, I know that but when I'm good, I'm fuckin' awesome!).

I have a friend (of a friend of a friend of a friend) who is strong, smart and extremely passionate about what she does for a living BUT she constantly allows her so-called BFF (and even some family members) to contribute negativity to her life.

I can't wrap my teensy brain around that concept and have TOLD her multiple times to grow a backbone and stop taking their shit but for years she has continued to ~~make excuses~~ tell me that her BFF had a tough life and doesn't know how her actions affect others and that she has good qualities and blah fuckin' blah blah blah!

*smack*

I've seen my girlfriend cry over some shit this supposed BFF has said to her, I've had loooooong text conversations with her, consoling her after this BFF had screaming fit on the phone with her... I've seen a lot and it makes me not only wanna go all inner-city Scorpio on that girl's ass but it frustrates me that my girlfriend ALLOWS herself to be treated that way.

Why is that?

And when is enough, enough?

What does it take for you to realize YOU DESERVE HAPPINESS. It's not something that only the "beautiful" people deserve, it's something YOU deserve right now; not tomorrow, not when you lost 40 pounds, not when someone else SAYS you deserve it but RIGHT NOW!

And if that means ending a friendship with someone who constantly reminds you that your house is always messy or that "you really should do something about your hair" or makes snide comments about your life in any way that makes YOU feel bad, then consider the tumour. Is it life-threatening or is it malign? Is it something you want to take a chance that will spread and get worse and years from now all of the negative comments and toxic energy has built up so badly that you end up cutting them out of your life anyway?

Not everyone who comes into your life has to stay there forever. If that were the case you and your kindergarten BFF would still be friends.

And like my good friend Stephen King says, "People come in and out of our lives like busboys in a restaurant."

And that's OK.

xxx

Brand New Bitch

2011-08-16T11:04:00.001-06:00

I love music and quite often a certain will come into my life when I need it most, sort of like when I was going through the depression after my granpa's death, and Eminem's Recovery CD came out.

Last week I was listening to the radio, something I rarely do, and heard Anjulie's new song "Brand New Bitch," this generations version of Alanis Morisette's, "You Oughtta Know" but less... angry at him and more "I back and better off with out you" kind of song.

Now before you go questioning anything, NO I don't relate to this song as a break up song (Big Daddy and I are quite all right, thank you) but I love the visual Anjulie gives of how she is badass, sexy, free and moving forward.

So for me, I get something different than what a heartbroken 21-year-old might get but you know this could be every single woman's anthem no matter what age you are.

My face to the sky,

sunglasses on

Turnin’ up the beat so sick I’m like a brand new bitch

Don’t need a rescue,

it’s all good

Baby, I been hittin’ my stride, hittin’ my stride

I got my red lipstick on, engine’s revving

I relate to those lyrics because I FEEL STRONG! Stronger than I have in 2 years and it feels pretty fuckin good. I feel like my old self again and it's taken SO long to get here. I've even made some lifestyle changes and am getting back to fighting form so this time next year I will look on the outside the way I feel on the inside.

I love empowering songs and Brand New Bitch is REALLY damn good; good beat, make-no-apology lyrics, and a GREAT workout song!

Give it a listen. Oh yeh, Anjulie is Canadian, too. More proof that Canadian women really DO kick ass! Good girl Anjulie!

Cheers!
t.

The art of being self-aware

2011-08-10T09:19:00.002-06:00

I swear.

A lot.

I know, I know, you're falling off your chair in shock at that little revelation but if there is one thing I am, it's self-aware.

I can list all of my characteristics, good and bad, and am always working to make those so-called "bad traits" better.

In no particular order, the bad:

I swear (even around my kids, I don't censor myself. Much).
I'm stubborn (not as bad as I was when I was 20 but if I believe STRONGLY in something I will fight you to the death to prove my point)
There is no such thing as half-assin' it (I am extreme in every thing I do. Work, play, everything. I go balls-to-the-wall or I don't go at all).
If I'm indifferent to you it means I don't care at all about you either to love you or hate you and THAT is the worst emotion you can evoke from me
I will drop the gloves and throw down if I feel I've been wronged or if someone I care about has been hurt.
I will be inappropriate at the most inappropriate times. Yes, yes I will tell dirty jokes around my mother in law and I will say comments just to make you blush (and hopefully laugh).

The good

I am feisty, playful and love life. It's sometimes triggers people who are less likely to have that quality and who take life seriously. But you know what? I don't care. Life is too short to take it so seriously. There is enough serious shit in this world to stress out about and if I can BE happy than I WILL be happy.
I am fiercely loyal to the people I love. If I love you, I will tell you. On the flip side if I hate you, you will know it too.
"Don't talk to me about rules, dear. Wherever I stay I make the goddamn rules" Maria Callas Exactly. I look at things differently than most people and it took me a LONG time to see that I don't have to act the way people think I should act or talk the way other people deem appropriate. I make no apologies for who I am because I AM living up to my authentic standards.
Compassion is second-nature to me believe it or not. I am very empathetic but I don't coddle those who play the victim card.

Over the past 2 years I've been practicing a lot of meditation and more recently been following the Seven Spiritual Laws of Success which have REALLY helped me let go of a lot of anger and rage issues I have had (I know, another shocking revelation, I'm sure).

Today is Wednesday and it's the The Law of Least Effort: Accept people, situations, and events as they occur. Take responsibility for your situation and for all events seen as problems. Relinquish the need to defend your point of view.

Do you know how hard that is? Seriously. I'm a bit of a control freak ... yes I get it, you're shocked at my honesty... so relinquishing the need to defend my point of view or myself is a tough one.

I have learned to embrace all of my traits because they make me who I am. Do I have to be the mom who swears all the time? No I don't HAVE to be anything I don't want to be. But do I apologize for swearing?

Fuck no.

I'm self-aware enough to know it's just another facet of my charming personality so love me or hate me, I'm not changing who my authentic self for anyone.

I happen to like me.

Cheers!
t.

PS. How self-aware are YOU!?

Get a Job

2011-05-31T08:19:00.000-06:00

So. Before I met Big Daddy I had a great career as a sports writer and I was quite happy with where my life was headed.

I left the industry for a different path in life and have had no regrets (although I often wonder where I would be in that career now) because it has allowed me to have a family and stay home with my kids during their younger years (Oz is now 9 and Lola is 5).

I never EVER wanted to be a stay-at-home MOM or a housewife (no offense to those who choose that life) because I have always felt I had a purpose in life, that I was meant for great things. Sounds arrogant, I know, but I totally don't mean it that way. What I mean is that I have always felt like my life was meant to inspire other people and through MOM Magazine, I think I am accomplishing that.

This past 18 months has sucked, personally, which has led my professional life to change dramatically as well but I have been plotting and planning since February ways to rise from the ashes once again because that is what I do.

I'm a fighter and a survivor, I always have been and never stay down for the count.

This morning, after another 3:30 a.m. wakeup call from my inner alarm clock, doing laundry, dishes, cleaning the kitchen, fixing lunches for the kids & making breakfast for the little ingrates, I was enjoying a coffee at the table with everyone.

General chit chat was going on... nothing of any relevance, when Oz looked at me and said, "You should get a job." His snarky little tone (I still don't know if it was intentional) and that comment caught me way off guard and all I could do was take my coffee and leave.

Obviously he's nine years old and oblivious to anything in regards to my life or my daily struggles with the redirection of MOM or anything I do but that comment was a kick in the proverbial nuts.

For nine years I have stayed home, more so with Oz than with Lola because I started MOM after Lola was born, but I have always been home for the kids when they were sick, teaching them all the things they need to know in their formative years, being the primary caregiver as most moms are... you know, all the things moms do that go unnoticed.

Now had I chose to go to work 9-5 my kids would have had a dramatically different life and our family life would be SO much different. I make sure we have home-cooked meals (most nights, I am human after all), breakfast is always healthy and fresh, I'm always home when they get off the school bus... you know, little things like that.

Lately I've been getting the MOM Guilt ... "You work too much," "You're always on your computer," "You never send time with us..." The thing is, I HAVEN'T worked in 18 months, so now that I am spending a ridiculous amount of time doing anything to rebuild what I let fail (is fail the right word?), the kids are becoming more clingy because maybe I'm not at their beck and call anymore.

Lola has developed this... neediness for me that she never use to have. Oz is making comments like "Get a job" when he complains that I "work" too much.

Fuck. It's one of those days where I feel like disappearing on a road trip and truly letting them fend for themselves to see how lucky they are to have the best of both worlds.

I don't know, maybe in some ways I needed to hear that (jackass) comment from (brat) Oz.

Time to implement some of the elements of MOM that will bring it back to being a viable business, I mean after all this isn't a hobby.

t.

Gratitude for a great girl

2011-05-13T16:46:00.000-06:00

I've been very fortunate doing what I do with MOM Magazine over the past four years and one of the reasons is the women I have been blessed enough to come into my life.

When I launched MOM in 2007, I was contacted by Connie Peters who was just at the point of launching Modern Mama. She was so adorable, sweet, genuine (a BIG reason I love her), and so willing to work with me in Edmonton to get MOMs out of the house.

Although our personalities are totally opposite - Connie is polite, polished, poised and diplomatic - we found a common ground in our desire to connect Edmonton MOMs. We didn't do too much together in the beginning of our businesses mainly because I was swamped with the print mag and she was swamped with her events and building her online community but we stayed in touch and there was always a mutual respect there.

Last year when I was coming out of that depression, I reconnected with Connie at MOM's first-ever tweetup featuring the lovely Erica Ehm, founder of the YummyMummyClub, and we started talking more and more about how we could work together.

Connie graciously accepted the invitation to be a 2010 FIERCE Women of the Year awards judge and has always been one of the influential MOM-industry women I could count on for support.

Sadly, Connie is leaving Edmonton for Vancouver but Modern Mama will live on here. I just wanted to give a HUGE THANK YOU to her for doing what she has done for the MOMs of Edmonton. Connie truly is a class act and a woman who is irreplaceable in this community.

If you get the chance, send her some love and let her know just how much you appreciate her too.

For all you Vancouver MOMs, you're lucky to have her!

Cheers!
t.

I'm at the end...

2011-05-07T23:32:00.002-06:00

... of my rapidly fraying rope.

t.

The death of Bin Laden and the birth of change

2011-05-02T09:50:00.002-06:00

I remember where I was the day the planes crashed into the Twin Towers in New York City; I was four months pregnant with Oz and was getting ready for work, watching the news when clips of the first plane had hit were being replayed.

I sat, watching in total disbelief at what I was seeing then ran to get Big Daddy to tell him what had happened. He thought I was kidding or seeing something that couldn't possibly be true but when we both sat watching the clips, and the second plane flew towards the second tower and the news casters were in disbelief of what they were seeing, I felt completely sick to my stomach knowing I was watching live a planeload of people crash to their deaths.

I couldn't tear myself away from the news that day and I watched, like most of the world, the great Twin Towers fall.

I remember sobbing, clutching my stomach and apologizing to my unborn baby for bringing him into this world where such evil people existed.

Last night, when I saw the twitter feeds that Osama Bin Laden was dead, I felt a rush of elation and shock and satisfaction knowing that he was finally dead.

"His demise should be welcomed by those who believe in peace and justice."
US President Barack Obama

Since the announcement from US President Barack Obama, I have seen two extreme types of reactions: those who are overjoyed that Bin Laden is dead and those who are horrified that people could celebrate his death.

I'm somewhere in the middle, which for me is an unusual reaction in itself as I am somewhat of an extremely opinionated person, but I see this situation as so much more than the demise of Bin Laden.

My authentic self can't joyfully celebrate someone's death although I am truly not sad that he is dead. There are certain people this world is better off without and Bin Laden was one of them. Throughout history, there have been others who most people were happy that were no longer able to terrorize the world: Adolph Hitler, and Saddam Hussein are the first two who come to mind, but I don't remember there being such an uproar about Hussein's death from Western civilization.

Did it make it better that Hussein was found cowering in a rabbit hole by US Soldiers and brought to trial for crimes against humanity where he was given the opportunity to call his trial an injustice and mock the system, eventually being sentenced to death anyway? Was that more humane? Should the government have tried to take Bin Laden into custody and risked having more people killed, or worse yet, having Bin Laden escape?

On the flip side of the extreme celebrating, I've been seeing tweets of: "An eye for an eye makes the whole world blind" Ghandi. I've also had friends on Facebook post how wrong it is that people are happy Bin Laden is dead.

I get that position, I really do because I have always believed in justice and fairness and know that to take joy in someone else's pain is wrong on a moral and spiritual level but I also remember the cheering from the extremists when the Twin Towers fell and how awful that made me feel, to know that someone could take joy in other people's suffering.

So I choose to look at this situation this way: the world is on the precipice of a great change, one I believe will ultimately be in the way we live our lives and view the world as a whole, one of great peace and blissful contentment, one where our children will be the change that we have always wanted to see.

Bin Laden's death was instrumental in that shift in the universe and how the world will change. The generations coming up now truly have the ability to bring about world peace and anyone who knows me or has followed this blog knows I'm not about spewing corny bullshit.

Am I celebrating the death of an evil man? No. I am celebrating the birth of change and the possibilities of calm in our chaotic world.

t.

You're Fuckin' Perfect

2011-03-12T07:48:00.003-07:00

Lately, songs have been coming into my life with messages when I need them the most.

It's no secret my self-esteem has taken a brutal beating over the past year but I am slowly reclaiming it and getting back to my former confident and badass self.

When I first heard Pink's "Fuckin' Perfect" on the radio, I started tearing up because hearing this, "If you ever, ever feel like your nothing you're fuckin' perfect to me," hit home.

I haven't felt GOOD about myself for so long and it fuckin SUCKS.

I've never seen Pink's video before this morning and the only reason I watched it was that I had been sending the link to my friends letting them know I thought THEY were fuckin' perfect.

For some reason, today I pressed play and by the end of the video I was bawling.

I look at Lola and think of how special and beautiful she is and I am that mom at the end of the video who goes into her daughter's room and (omg I can't stop crying what the FUCK is wrong with me????) UGH just watch the video. Anyway, yah, I relate to it.

I relate to it because that young girl was so emotionally-starved and damaged but she was able to grasp onto something which pulled her out of the darkness. And she did it herself.

I also believe that on some level EVERY woman can relate to this video. If for no other reason than to be told that someone thinks you're fuckin' perfect.

And for the record, hell to the YES Big Daddy is that smokin hot guy with his arms her at the end of the vid ;)

When I look at Lola I never want her to feel less than perfect.

One of "our songs" is Bruno Mars' "Just the Way You Are" which we sing at least once a day. I want Lola to find someone who feels this way about her and tells her every day how she is PERFECT the way she is and loves her for who she is.

When she was 3 years old, she looked at me as I was putting on makeup and said, "Mommy, I want to wear makeup too, makeup makes you beautiful."

I was horrified because I never wanted her to associate beauty with cosmetic beauty.

"Uhm, no Lola, makeup does NOT make you pretty," I told her. "You know what makes you beautiful? Your heart, your soul, and your brain. You are beautiful because you are funny, smart, thoughtful, goofy, sweet, kind, helpful... those are the things that make you beautiful. Makeup can make you FEEL beautiful but I promise you it does not make you beautiful."

Every day since then, we have talked about what makes her beautiful and at 5 years old she has learned not to associate beauty with the physical. She likes to dress up to FEEL pretty but now knows what truly makes her beautiful.

And what I love most about Lola is that she is so complimentary; it comes naturally to her. She will find something nice to say to someone whether it's complimenting them on their clothes or their hair but she always wants to make other people feel good about themselves.

I often think she was brought to me to help heal my own spirit because having a daughter has made me so much more in touch with my emotions than I ever WANTED to be.

In fact, I never wanted a girl, ever because I never got along with girls. I was always hanging out with the guys and could relate more to men. But I always said if I DID get stuck with a girl she had to have dark hair, green eyes, be a Scorpio and be born in November so I would at least be able to understand her personality considering I'm a Scorpio and would understand all of her

personality quirks.

Lo and behold, when I had sworn up and DOWN Oz was my one and only kid, she showed up positive on a pregnancy test when I hadn't even missed a period. I just knew. And it was a week before a Vegas trip no less so I knew she was trouble from the beginning.

And you know what? Ask the universe for something and it delivers because 9 months later she showed up with a head full of black hair, green eyes on Nov. 1, 2005.

My green-eyed little Scorpio who has taught me so much about what real beauty means and forced me to heal my spirit if for no other reason than to teach her that she is fuckin perfect JUST the way she is.

Cheers,

Happy flippin' Birthday

2011-03-10T09:07:00.002-07:00

So the great and powerful Oz will be turning 9 on Sunday and Big Daddy & I are butting heads (oooh big surprise) about what to get the boy for his special day.

Here's the thing. The kid wanted to go to the circus SO he's getting circus tickets from Lola as a gift. Before we surprise him tomorrow with these tickets, we're taking him out for a birthday dinner and giving him a Bone book he's been wanting (giggling inappropriate at that actually LOL).

Anyhoo, so on Saturday, he gets his party with his friends, pizza & cake at Professor WEM's Golf Course then off to see Gnomeo & Juliet (which Lola and I saw a few weeks ago and let me tell ya it's a badass movie!).

That night, a couple of his friends are sleeping over.

The next DAY, Sunday, Ron's parent's and brother are coming over to have yet ANOTHER birthday celebration for the boy.

Now.

Our "disagreement" is about what to get the boy.

I say he doesn't NEED something just to GET something bc we're taking him to the circus, out for dinner AND he's getting the book but Ron figures he NEEDS to get something.

Fuck. Me.

Kids, well my kids anyway, our shown love through materialism and I hate that shit. I know, I know, it's all good to get presents and be showered with gifts and love on your birthday but when is it TOO much?

When is enough, ENOUGH.

Thots?

PS if you don't hear from me it's cuz Ron threw a wine bottle into the wood chipper and I stupidly tried to save it. Yeh. He threatens that a lot.

Operation: Black Bag

2011-03-07T18:05:00.013-07:00

I'm not an organized person, I never have been and I've never claimed to be.

But seeing Lola's room just about KILLS me every fucking time I look in there. It looks like Toys R Us exploded in her tiny room which annoys me on multiple levels: 1) she has WAY too much crap, 2) I suck at maintaining a house and keeping it clutter-free and 3) I feel like when i DO declutter the house (which happens every 6 months or so) no one helps me keep it clutter-free so I don't bother either.

It's a vicious cycle. The house clutter builds up, causes MAJOR arguments about who is responsible for what and I end up throwing shit out because there IS too much shit.

I remember when I finished high school and couch surfed for the summer because I had no where to live. Everything I owned had to be kept in a small bag which is why I think I am SO not a pack rat.

So when I see my kids' rooms look like a Pixar threw up in there, I want to pull my hair out in frustration. But my kids are picking up OUR bad habits - yes Big Daddy you are a messy little bastard too - and I am no better.

But I don't want my kids becoming entitled little slobs who expect someone else to clean up their crap or think that it's OK to live in clutter.

So yesterday, Lola and I - for what better damn well be the LAST time in her young life - went into her room and purged.

I was SO beyond mad when I went in there - and YES I saw it building and I know it's my responsibility as a parent to catch these things but I was self-absorbed in some personal shit I was going through so I didn't care as much about the state of her room - and took my broom, sweeping EVERYTHING and I mean EVERYTHING out into the hallway. There was no way I could sort through the shit on her floor within her tiny little room so my best bet was to get it all out into a common living space where it would HAVE to be dealt with.

See? A lot of shit, right? You should have seen what this looked like when it was IN her room. FML.

We started at about 10 a.m. yesterday and went until about 5 p.m. I had to take multiple Twitter breaks to yell at someone other than her. The best part was that I had promised myself that I wouldn't swear on Twitter yesterday:

19hours ago omfg (that doesnt count as a swear btw) getting rid of *doh* stuff in Lola's room, blog to follow & Im swearing a LOT irl fml

19 hours ago i dont UNDERSTAND how *doh* stuff piles UP and the CHAOS that happens *doh* fml i picked the WORSt day to not swear on twitter

19 hours ago taking pics too. JUST to remind me AND Lola of the *DOH* stuff that she collects. You're never gonna believe this *DOH* stuff she has!

19 hours ago baileys in my coffeE is JUST what I need, i go through this EVERY 3 months like clockwork, gah its ME who needs to change :'(

18 hours ago hey so far so good, replacing swearing on twitter with *DOH* ... hmmm... its only 1030 am tho

18 hours ago i think you may be my favourite twit!! RT @mommylok: @MOMmagRocks Don't try to change who you are! :)

18 hours ago @abandofwives hahah trust me i probably wont make it through the day, decluttering Lola's room & swearing like CRAZY irl

18 hours ago @abandofwives ironically MOM is known for the blatant swearing and inappropriate behaviour yet I am trying not to swear today. wtf right?

17 hours ago taking a break fr Operation: Declutter fml at the rate im getting thru this *DOH* stuff i wont b done till 2morrw #stillhaventswornontwitter

15 hours ago you know what I've found? the only way I will win this bet is if I just stay OFF of twitter today #noswearingonTwitterforaday

12 hours ago EXACTLY! fuck listen to IceT #MOMsaysso RT @FINALLEVEL: If you're gonna #UNFOLLOW me.. Just do it. No need to get dissed on the way out...

12 hours ago noooooooooooooooooooooooo!!!!!!! FUCK! i cant go one day w/o swearing on twitter! gawddamit. I was doing SO WELL!

Poor kid, I felt bad when I yelled and caught myself so I tried explaining to her that she couldn't live in a pig sty like that.

"Ok mommy, I won't live in a Pig's Sky any more."

See? Lola is so damn cute and adorable and SWEET, and it isn't her fault that her room ended up that way.

It was mine.

I don't want her growing up with my bad habits. Just because I didn't have any one to show me how to be organized or take care of a home doesn't mean I can't LEARN these things and give my kids the best life tools possible.

So, we turned on some music and worked together while I showed her how to separate her toys into bins (she labelled them) and we got through the pile of crap in the hallway.

This was at about 2 p.m. Surprisingly I only filled one black garbage bag but told Lola the next time her room ended up looking like that, I would take as many black bags as I needed and EVERYTHING would be going in the garbage.

And I mean it, much to Big Daddy's dismay.

But you know what? Letting our kids think it's OK to build up such clutter and crap and then WAIT until it looks like THAT is a recipe for disaster in life on so many levels and I won't be that MOM who does that to her kids.

So we whittled away and I think letting Lola choose what to keep and what to toss and really be a part of the process helped her see that Mommy doesn't wave a magic wand and the house automatically cleans itself (and if anyone out there HAS one of those wands, send me one to feature and I will try it out... you know, for research purposes ;)

In the end, her room looked FABULOUS and she was happy.

And my hallway was back to good by about 5:30 p.m. ish...

Cheers!

My Journey Back to Myself

2011-02-25T10:45:00.010-07:00

Yeah, it's been a ride
I guess I had to, go to that place, to get to this one

~ Not Afraid - Eminem

I don’t know how to start this so I’m going to jump in and just tell you all this last year sucked ass. In fact, it’s bittersweet that I’m posting this today because it was a year ago today that my grandfather passed away, holding my hand.

Let me tell you about this year and the shit I went through because depression sucks and I felt very much alone even though in reality I was not.

This year sucked so badly that I looked in the mirror one morning and could barely recognize my own reflection. For months after my granpa died, I spent the days in bed and withdrew from the world, disconnecting from my friends, my family and most of all, myself.

It was a dark place that I didn’t know I was in until I looked in the mirror that day. I felt awful about myself, my life, what I was doing, what I had done, what I wasn’t doing, how I looked, how I behaved… the list went on and on.

As I came out of that darkness, the light didn’t shine for me right away. It was like waking up from a deep slumber; everything was blurry, I could barely open my eyes or move my body. It was the end of June and I knew I could no longer live that way, hiding in bed all day, getting up only because I knew I had to make supper and at least wash off the counters so that my husband didn’t know I had stayed under the covers all day. I stopped taking Lola to school, I drank way too much, I didn’t care how I looked or whether or not I ever put out another issue of MOM magazine. I literally left Ron to take care of everything, the kids, the house, and our lives. I emotionally disconnected from the Ron and the kids; it was like I left for a year. I can’t explain it, other than to say they were “three” and I was “one.” I’m so lucky Ron is the man he is because he took on such a burden without hesitating or even questioning it. I never saw that, though. At the time, I didn’t see him being supportive at all. Looking back, I realize just how lucky I am to be married to such an amazing man.

Is anybody out there?
It feels like I'm talkin to myself
No one seems to know my struggle
And everything I come from
Can anybody hear me?
I guess I keep talkin to myself
It feels like I'm going insane
Am I the one who's crazy?
So why in the world do I feel so alone
Nobody but me, I'm on my own
Is there anyone out there
Who feels the way I feel
If there is, let me hear just so I know I'm not the only one

~ Talkin’ 2 Myself, Eminem

I remember my first foray back into the “MOM industry.”

YummyMummyClub founder Erica Ehm was coming to Edmonton in June and I offered to host a tweetup for her. I remember feeling resentful and miserable and not at all like myself. In fact, I know I wasn’t myself but Erica got to meet the unhealthy me; the sad, depressed, angry Tamara who had almost given up on MOM Magazine and was resentful of anyone who was succeeding in the industry.

The sad thing is, I’m not that girl who doesn’t like to see other people succeed or be happy. I’m the girl who cheers at her friends achievements and encourages them to be better. I’m the girl who listens to people without judging them and makes people laugh when they don’t really feel like laughing. I’m the girl who chats with everyone and tries to make people feel comfortable in awkward situations.

It was at that tweetup that I met Tanis Miller (@redneckmommy) and reconnected with Connie Peters (@modern_mama) but it wasn’t the REAL Tamara they were seeing, it was the worst version of myself I had ever been. But Tanis, Erica and Connie never got to meet that girl. They never got to meet the charismatic, goofy, inappropriate and off colour Tamara.

They got to meet someone I who hated everyone. And that isn’t me.

Admit you got a problem you brain is clouded you pouted long enough
It isn't them its you you fuckin baby
Quit worrying about what they do and do fuckin Shady
I'm fucking going crazy

Talkin’ 2 Myself, Eminem

I neglected my health, my vanity, and my well-being for nearly six months. I stumbled out of the depression because I knew my kids would be home for the summer on school break and I couldn’t let them see me like that even though I’m sure they sensed I hadn’t been myself.

I felt alone the entire time I was depressed. I felt like no one understood and that I couldn’t burden any of my friends with my problems and even if they did listen, I didn’t know what to say. I would brush off get-togethers and avoid meeting anyone for coffee. I hated my life, I hated myself and I hated not knowing how to cope but I was so full of hate that eventually, I didn’t care.

I was indifferent to everyone around me and that was atypical of my usual passionate self. When I’m ME, I’m charismatic and goofy and love life. But that “ME” was miserable and broken and full of black emotion.

I feel like I’m losing control of myself, I sincerely,
I apologize if all that I sound like, is I’m complaining…
But I can’t, why do I act like I’m all high and mighty,
When inside, I’m dying, I am finally realizing I need help.
I can’t do it by myself, too weak, 2 weeks I’ve been having ups and downs

~ Going through Changes, Eminem

I’m writing this, telling you this about myself and opening myself up to you because I needed to find my way back to the light and tell you where I’ve been and what I’ve been going through.

And I’m crying now, not because I am afraid you will judge me but because I never wanted to expose this side of myself. I take pride in being a strong woman who battles through problems and never backs down from a fight but the scars are still fresh from this latest fight.

Towards the end of the summer, I started to come out of the fog I was in. I would tell myself every day that I was “back to good” but it was never true. I tried convincing my friends that I was “fine”. I told my husband I was “fine.” I hate that word, fine. Fine is NOT fine. Fine means there is a problem. Fine means HELP. But I was too proud to ask and I honestly didn’t think I needed help.

One of my best friends had given me Louise Hayes Meditations to Heal Your Life and at the time, I thought she was nuts. I wasn’t going to admit to anyone I was into something like that, even though I really was.

One day, during the summer, I opened that book at random, like she had said to do, and read the affirmation. I started reading them every day after that, setting my intentions for the day and after a while, my mindset switched like a light dimmer going from dark back to the light.

You're lying to yourself, you're slowly dying, you're denying
Your health is declining with your self-esteem, you're crying out for help

~Talkin 2 Myself, Eminem

Emotionally, I was healing but physically, I was still a mess. I had started attending networking events to try and get my head back into the game, and it always seemed like such an effort to look half decent for them. My grandmother would have been horrified with me and my inability to present myself in a professional manner since she had always exuded class and style wherever she went.

Not me, I felt good about myself if I had managed to put on something other than yoga pants. In October, I was introduced to Crystal Armstrong, manager of Phoenix Renewal Salon & Spa in Edmonton, at one of the networking events. She invited me to check out the salon and try out a facial. I agreed because the idea of reclaiming some part of my vanity appealed to me but had she offered even two weeks earlier, I probably would have declined. I was taking baby steps back to ME and this facial would be the beginning.

The day of my appointment, I was rushed and running late as usual. I didn’t have “time” to take for myself, the final preparations for our first-ever FIERCE awards were underway, I had to start thinking about what to do with MOM Magazine and I didn’t deserve to have a facial.
OK, so I didn’t feel that I deserved a facial, there was a big difference but in my mind, at that moment, I told myself that I didn’t deserve it.

The experience at Phoenix Renewal Salon & Spa was absolutely magical, from the time I walked in until the moment I left I felt pampered, cared for and emotional, as odd as that may sound. I remembered feeling the exact same way about 11 years ago when I went for a massage and really began to feel depression slip into my life. I remembered lying on that table, sobbing quietly and not wanting the masseuse to hear me. Why something so physically wonderful evoked so many emotions, I didn’t understand at the time. Eleven years later, I knew what was happening and that it was REALLY time to stop pretending everything was fine.

As the aesthetician magically transformed my skin from tired and puffy to healthy and dewy, I felt my spirit transform as well. I’ve had facials before but this one was different and I’m not just talking about the state of mind I was in. The treatment was blissful, relaxing and rejuvenating, and I left Phoenix Renewal and Spa feeling like I had taken the first step back to my old self.

“And I just can't keep living this way
So starting today, I'm breaking out of this cage
I'm standing up, Imma face my demons
I'm manning up, Imma hold my ground
I've had enough, now I'm so fed up
Time to put my life back together right now”

~ Not Afraid, Eminem

The facial inspired me to start taking baby steps towards reclaiming my self-esteem. Over the course of the month I started tanning again, much to my aestheticians horror, got my nails done and even decided to get Lash Extensions. I had admired the lashes of my good friend Amanda Babichuk who is the owner of d’lish urban kitchen & wine bar owner in Edmonton and she recommended a Flirt Lashes, which specializes solely to lash extensions.

I love the girls at Flirt. The lash extensions made me FEEL beautiful. I’ve had lash extensions before and actually tried out a few other places in Edmonton to see if they would be any better but they weren’t. No one compares to Flirt. A full set of lashes is $60 and last anywhere from 4-6 weeks. I’ve seen lash extensions cost upwards of $200, something I just can’t justify.

So with the physical changes I was making to myself, my self-esteem started to come back and I started to really FEEL like my old self. After the FIERCE awards, I dove head first into re-launching MOM as an online magazine.

It wasn’t easy, I won’t lie. I struggled with my demons every fuckin’ day.

"I've come up to make it up to you no more fucking around
I've got something to prove to fans I feel like I let em down
So please accept my apology I finally feel like I'm back to normal
I feel like me again, so let me formally reintroduce myself to you for those of you who dont know
The new me's back to the old me and homie I don't show no
Signs of slowin up, oh and I'm blowin up all over

~ Talkin 2 myself, Eminem

And I knew today was coming. I knew that the one year anniversary of my grandfather’s death was fast approaching. In fact, since I took him to the hospital last Dec. 13, I’ve felt myself slip back into that dark place but oddly enough listening to Eminem’s Recovery CD helped me stay focused.

Whether you like Eminem or not, you should respect what he’s been through and where he is now. He is so honest about his struggles, owns his addictions and never backs down from the haters. I not only respect that, I relate to it.

There is nothing about me that I keep secret. My life is literally an open book and this last year is just another chapter in my story.

Before my grandfather died, he told me I was “just like those rap guys, always offending someone.”

Bahahaaha yup, he had that right. And you know what? I couldn’t have put this post together without the lyrics from the Eminem songs that helped me through this.

“So there it is.
Damn. It feel like I just woke up or somethin.
I guess I just forgot who the fuck I was.
Hey yo, to anybody I thought about goin’ at, it was never nothing personal. Just some shit was going through.
And to everybody else… I’m back!”

~ Talkin 2 Myself - Eminem

And you know what? It feels pretty fuckin’ good to be back!

Cheers!
t.

Dear Diary: I don't know what to say

2010-07-30T18:50:00.005-06:00

The details of Tim McLean's death are something no one likes to remember; stabbed to death, beheaded, eyes eaten, limbs cut off... it was a gruesome sight for the passengers of a Greyhound Bus two years ago on July 31.

When I first spoke to Carol last year she told me in graphic detail what happened to Tim aboard that bus.

“Mr. Li taunted (passengers and police) with my son’s head and dropped it in the stairwell (of the bus.) He continued to ravage my son’s body, removing all of his internal organs. When he finally did escape out of the bus window, he had my son’s nose, tongue and ear in a baggie in his pocket.

“Some internal organs were thrown onto the front dash of the bus, he was in the process of trying to remove one of his feet.

“He ate his eyes, and he ate at least one third of his heart muscle as well as other tissue. Mr. Li was observed during this attack cannibalizing my son, and smelling and licking his fingers.

“There were body parts in bags in four to six different locations in the bus. There was a gaping hole where his heart was ripped out. He was pulp. His body was pulp.”

I couldn't believe she could be as frank about the death of her son as she was, or that she could describe it in the detail that she did. I had a tough time taking notes and hearing it, yet there she was, discussing her son's murder with a calm I could never imagine.

I asked her how she could get through it, be as strong as she was and talk about it the way she did. She wasn't detached from this event, by any means, but she said she had to make people aware of what happened to Tim because it was the gruesome nature of the crime that kept it in people's minds.

Sadly, I don't see as many people caring as they first did when Tim's murder hit the headlines. At first, people seemed outraged and determined to have justice carried out. There were about 1,000 people in a Facebook group called RIP Tim McLean that I joined the day after his murder. It quickly grew to over 33,000 people but has since dropped to just over 26,000 people.

As a mother, I have empathized since day one with Carol. I could never imagine being in her position. So I reached out the only way I knew how; through the magazine. I wanted to give her an ongoing voice anytime she needed it and I have since had the pleasure of meeting her. She is warm, genuine, funny and the strongest woman I have ever met.

I will continue to shove these images down the throats of our readers, Twitter followers and Facebook fans until the day comes that the NCR law is changed.

Vince Li's fate is sealed. He will be released and he will never have a criminal record for what he did. He will most likely disappear into a neighbourhood that you live in.

But the fate of future offenders who think they can get off with the BULLSHIT NCR verdict is in your hands. Don't let yet another offender get away with this. Sign Carol's petition to change the NCR Law.

"Be the change you want to see in the world" Ghandi

Today, news broke that a security plan was unveiled so that Vince Li could get some fresh air and sunshine during walks around the Selkirk facility where he is being held.

There will be two "special constables" escorting Li however there is no fence.

It sure was nice of them to drop this little tid bit of information almost two years to the DAY that Li killed Tim... you know, seeing as Tim will never see the light of day again.

Dear Diary, Shut Up & Eat

2010-07-16T14:16:00.004-06:00

Yah, that's right. I said Shut Up. But before you get your granny panties all twisted, I was referring to Kathy Buckworth's new book Shut Up & Eat: Tales of Chicken, Children & Chardonnay.

Now anyone who KNOWS me, knows that if it has booze in the title, I'm checkin' it out!

Better than reading it though, will be schmoozin' and boozin' with the writer herself at MOM's 1st Dip & Sip: An Evening with Kathy Buckworth at the Melting Pot in Edmonton on Tuesday, July 20. Kathy will be in town promoting the book and I managed to snag her for a few hours for a meet & greet.

This event should be a GREAT one and I'm really looking forward to meeting her in person. We are kindreds, I'm sure. We both love our blackberries more than we love our children, and we love wine! I wanna be her when I grow up!

Pics and deets to come, following the event.

PS as of RIGHT now there are a handful of tickets ($25 ea.) left. If you want one, email me. For more info on the event, go to our website.

Cheers!
t.

Dear Diary: Stand By Me

2010-06-30T17:37:00.035-06:00

The Junior High Lockers

There are moments in our lives that catapult us to another level, and when we look back on those moments, we see the significance they played in the path that we chose.

When I was 12 years old, one of the biggest moments in my life started at Parkdale... an inner city Elementary and Junior High School in Edmonton.

If I close my eyes, I can remember the first day. I had recently moved from a more upscale neighbourhood on the south side but had spent the majority of my childhood in the inner city and looked forward to my return with both anxiety and anticipation.

The Main Stairwell

I wondered if the first boy I had ever kissed when I was six years old would still be at Parkdale. He wasn't.

I wondered if anyone would remember me. They didn't.

But it was at Parkdale that I found the five friends who were instrumental in surviving junior high (and home life in general).

We celebrated birthdays and studied together. We shared dreams of going to university and travelling, we giggled about boys, and we kept each other protected from the lifestyles that any one of us could have easily slipped in to.

Parkdale wasn't just a school for me, it was a safe haven from the bullshit that was happening at home. At school, I had my friends. And at that moment in my life, it seemed like they were all that I needed.

It happens sometimes. Friends come in and out of our lives,

like bus boys in a restaurant - Gordie LaChance, Stand By Me

The Phoenix, Parkdale's logo

Our friendships were based on a lot of things, mainly our love of movies and I remember seeing Stand By Me in the summer of Grade 8, and feeling like I was watching us up on that screen. Of course, I was Gordie, for no other reason than he grew up to be a writer which I was planning on doing.

By the end of that movie, when he talks about the friends he had when he was 12, I knew it was a foreshadow to my own life.

I never had any friends later on like the ones I had when I was twelve. Jesus, does anyone? Gordie LaChance, Stand By Me

The Girls (I took the picture)

We all went our separate ways in high school, and even though we tried to get together throughout the years, the last time we were all together was at that grad.

Walking through the halls of Parkdale reminded me of a moment in my life that I will never get back. The friendships I had there were the only things I had to cling to in an otherwise forgettable part of my life.

Yesterday, after 98 years of scholastic history, Parkdale's doors were closed forever.

Another building from my past is shut down but the moments I was at Parkdale led me to the path that I am on right now.

And for the record, I never did have any friends like the ones I had when I was 12.

Dear Diary: Vince Li is bad for my blood pressure

2010-06-05T07:40:00.017-06:00

I don't usually go up against the Big Boys because, let's face it, I'm small potatoes in the media stew but today, I must, must, MUST voice another rant about Vince Li, the Canadian "Criminal justice' system and the jackasses who make poor decisions.

Paula Simons is a columnist for the Edmonton Journal and a woman whom I respect. I truly do. But her column today in defence of Vince Li's "rights" has me up at 7 am on a Saturday morning pre-coffee, mind you), ready to kick someones ass.

The minute I saw that the recommendation at Li's annual review was for "day passes" (wrongly reported by a canoe.ca, which has been conveniently removed...they aren't the only media outlets to get their facts wrong, CTV Winnipeg screwed up, too, by saying the ruling doesn't specifically say Li must be escorted by staff when clearly, it does) I flipped. I literally blogged within minutes of seeing that story and texted Carol deDelley, Tim McLean's mom, to see if she saw that story. She told me she had just left the review and that the recommendation was for 15 minute escorted walks around the grounds of the facility.

After my initial rant, I thought, OK, maybe that's not so bad. Sunshine, he'll be escorted, it's only 15 minutes a day...

And then I thought about Tim and the amount of sunshine HE gets right now.

Yah. No.

This is directly from the Review Board's order:

THEREFORE, pursuant to Section 672.54(c) of the Criminal Code of Canada, the Review Board orders that Vince Weiguang Li is to be detained in custody in a hospital, subject to the following conditions:

1. That he reside on the locked forensic ward at the Selkirk Mental Health Centre, Selkirk, Manitoba;

2. That upon the recommendations of the treatment team, the person in charge of the hospital may grant staff supervised hospital grounds pass privileges, subject to the following provisions:

i) passes start at fifteen minutes and increase incrementally to a maximum of one hour, twice daily;

ii) the treatment team is of the opinion that his condition is stable and that it would be appropriate and safe for him to leave the locked ward;

iii) while he is away from the locked ward on any supervised hospital grounds passes, he is to be escorted at all times on a two-to-one basis by two staff members who are equipped with either a two-way radio or a cell phone;

iv) security staff at the hospital are informed when each grounds pass is to occur;

3. That if he is required to leave the hospital grounds for any reason, he is to be escorted at all times by a peace officer;

4. That he present himself before the Review Board as directed by the Chairperson thereof;

5. That he keep the peace and be of good behaviour.

Paula makes some valid points in her column, some compassionate points, even:

Imagine life if you could never go outside, never see the sky or touch the grass. Imagine if you had to spend every waking and sleeping moment locked inside a noisy psychiatric ward, breathing dank hospital smells, looking at bleak hospital walls. Such cruel and unusual punishment would drive a sane man mad.

But he's NOT SANE, PAULA!!! He's schizophrenic. He has been for a long time and contrary to what Paula writes, he WAS a diagnosed and treated Schizo who refused help and did not take his medications. (Don't get all up in my shit, here either about having no compassion for the crazy people, because I come from a family of schizos and clinically depressed people, so yah, I get it).

Li isn't a prisoner. He's a patient. And medically speaking, his doctors believe it would be good for his mental and physical health to take a 15-minute walk outside, under strict guard, twice a day. If we want to lessen the danger Li poses to the public, if we want him to get better, maybe their advice is worth heeding.

My question is this: Why the hell should ANYONE give a rat's ass about Li and his rights? Paula says that if we don't the our own rights are at stake.

Fuck. She makes a valid point.

But this is where the LAW NEEDS TO CHANGE.

The problem with Canada's judicial system stems RIGHT BACK to the bullshit law we call The Not Criminally Responsible Law" (NCR). It's the law hardly ANYONE in Canada knew about until this case made headlines around the world. It's the law that Tim's mom, Carol, is fighting to change.

Carol says the average release date for an NCR "patient?" "criminal??" "fuckstick" whatever, (my words, not Carol's FYI) is on average, 3-5 years.

He's been a patient at the Selkirk facility for two years.

"He'll be out. And at that point, you'd better be scared."

Paula's beef with this issue is that the province stepped in and said 'Oh hell NO!" (or something like that) to have Li walk around outside, until security measures are in place.

"There's nothing in the Criminal Code that would permit the attorney general to set aside an order of the board," says Winnipeg lawyer John Stefaniuk, chair of the Manitoba Criminal Code Review Board.

But Swan's press secretary, Joelle Saltel-Allard, says the minister acted within his authority because he didn't overrule anything.

"This is not overruling a decision," she says. "The decision will be implemented, but not until additional security measures have been put in place to ensure public safety."

Of course, we need to protect people from Li and protect him from himself. But fear and loathing shouldn't trump common sense, basic humanity or judicial independence. Politicians can't run roughshod over legal rulings they don't like because of a public backlash or single out a patient for arbitrary treatment because his act made the goriest headlines.

I wonder if the powers that be are REALLY concerned about public safety or Vince Li? Most people are outraged with the NCR verdict that Li received and haven't forgotten what he did to Tim. Li was never placed in General Population because they were concerned for his safety. So to have him "escorted" by two PEACE OFFICERS (aka not a real cops) whilst he enjoys fresh air and sunshine, seems to me like they are protecting HIM from anyone who may want to protest, or even exact some sort of vigilante justice.

This case pissed a LOT of people off.

The details are gory, disgusting and sound like something out of a horror movie. But don't tell me that Li had no intentions of killing someone. He boarded that Greyhound with a HUNTING KNIFE then, when it was convenient, told people God made him do it.

Yah, sounds crazy to me.

Bottom line is, Li is still hallucinating. He's still crazy. He should be locked in a facility that has the appropriate security and treatment measures in place.

Forever.

Dear Diary: Day passes for Tim McLean's killer is a real possibility

2010-05-31T15:54:00.009-06:00

Why is it that news of Vince Li's psychiatrist suggesting DAY PASSES for the monster quietly hit the online media without any awareness leading up to this asshole's review board hearing???

Something smells of a cover up here.

HOW can it be less than two years since Li viciously murdered, beheaded and cannibalized Tim McLean on a Greyhound Bus, be even considered for day passes into society. You know what? They`re giving him day passes ONLY on the grounds that he has two `special`constables with him.

Why? For Li's protection? So that when he's spotted in public someone doesn't take a shot at killing the monster that Li clearly is??

I mean, why else would they assign bodyguards? Because that's what those constables will be. If Li is fit for a day pass, he must be fine right?

Wrong.

According to news reports, "Li's treating psychiatrist says Li continues to suffer hallucinations, but at a reduced intensity and frequency than at the time Tim McLean was killed."

So why would someone who has a Li's history be allowed to visit the local Dairy Queen if he's still hallucinating?

I have an idea, let the dumbass who thinks Li's "fine" go and stay with him and HIS family for the day... then we'll see just how willing this doctor is to let Li go.

WHY haven't the RCMP ever commented on that fateful bus ride, specifically about why the officers sat there for 5 hours watching Li do what he did to Tim's body.

WHY was there such a rush to get this case to trial? Why was the first review for Li less than a YEAR that he was found Not Criminally Responsible??

And now, day passes for this killer are being suggested. Less than TWO YEARS since he killed Tim. Less than TWO YEARS since he ate Tim's body parts. Less than TWO YEARS since he taunted RCMP and Greyhound passengers with Tim's head.

Why??

I didn't even know Tim but the thought of Li being released into the general public, even with bodyguards aka "constables" is more than enough to make me shake with anger.

The Not Criminally Responsible law MUST CHANGE. The only reason most Canadians know about this law is because of Tim's murder and since THAT happened, I've heard of a couple other NCR verdicts including the Merritt, BC dad Allan Schoenborn who killed his three kids.

It's time to fight.

To fight to change a system that is clearly flawed. To fight for a young man who could've been YOUR son. To fight alongside a MOM who needs all the support she can get. To fight so that a criminal like Vince Li is branded as such and never allowed freedom again.

-Tamara Plant

** UPDATE** I just spoke with Carol deDelley, Tim's mom, who said she was at the annual review for Vince Li where this all took place. She says, "Daypasses were not on the table today. They (psychiatrists) were asking for supervised time outside on the grounds where there is no fence."

Dear Diary: I Don't Get Sex...

2010-05-26T08:48:00.013-06:00

And the City, that is.

That movie. Carrie, Samantha, uhm... and the other two characters...

I'm not one of the millions of women who will be flocking to that flick this weekend because, quite frankly, I don't give a damn.

No, I haven't seen the TV show and yes, I'm judging it based on what I see in the commercials. But I'm also judging it based on all of the hype that I see on Twitter. The majority of women on Twitter have feverishly been shopping for outfits to wear to this movie, literally for MONTHS.

Why?

What is the fascination with this movie? Are women living vicariously through the characters??

I know the premise of the show revolves around fiercely independent women who are living in New York City. There are shoes (specifically Manolo Blahniks and Jimmy Choos), sex (Carrie ends up marrying her bootycall, Mr. Big) and honest discussions between girlfriends that you've probably had WITH your own girlfriends or, at the very least, wanted to.

You see, for me, this show was no 'eye-opener'. I've always been open and honest about sex; nothing was ever taboo for me. I was honest about having one-night stands, I enabled my friends to truly be themselves and do things they normally would never do because
'good girls' don't (insert anything taboo here) and I wasn't shocked at the words 'masturbation,' 'vibrators' or 'orgasms.'

I don't giggle at stuff like that because I've never been embarrassed about sex.

So you would think that I would like this show but the truth is, it sort of annoys me. That whole "rah rah I've got a hoo-haw" girl power shit grates on my nerves.

Women "lunching" just to gossip or dish on the latest divorce/orgasm/shopping experience they've had is not my cuppa coffee.

Sex and the City represents all things stereotypical about women

Each character, from what little research I have done, I admit, seems boxed (pun intented).

There's Samantha, the pervy, try-sexual, uninhibited friend who oozes SEX and enjoys it for what it is... just sex. She will educate and enlighten you on all things you want to know about sex but are too afraid to ask. Perpetually single, will she ever truly commit and find a "happily ever-after??"

There's Carrie. She shops, she's living the dream as a sex/relationship columnist in New York City and she drinks Cosmos. She's searching for the elusive Mr. Right whom she finds in the form of Mr. Big. They have sex, they break up. He gets married. They have sex. Marriage breaks up. They break up. They have sex. They get married. Stop the roller coaster, I'm gonna puke.

There's Charlotte. She's sweet, demure, classier than her friends by a LONG shot and she is the good girl our mother's all wanted us to be. Happily married, white picket fence, kids. Yup. One-dimensional.

And finally, Miranda. She's the tough-as-nails, jaded yet loyal friend who becomes a single mom. She balances it all because THAT'S WHO SHE IS. Independent. Strong. Ferocious! Who needs a man? She relies more on personality that sex appeal because, let's face it, she has none.

From what I'm seeing on Twitter, women are 60-40 in support of this movie.

shannondagnone says: It's appealing because it's fantasy. Fabulous clothes, gorgeous men. It's the life most of us will never live. Vicariousness!

ParentClub says: so not obsessed. Couldn't care less. Carrie who?!

sandyel says: because it's fun. It is one of my fave tv series. #SATC

RecycleNazi says: i dont know. i watched an episode here and there, and the movie, and just like the housewives of OC, liked it, possibly something to do with seeing snotty bitches talk about getting screwed over by men, or shitting their pants (yah, that happened in the movie, laughed my ass off) I think its like a stepping stone to normalcy for the really plastic bitches. for me, its sort of the opposite. I can pretend I am fancy.

And finally, one of my twitter BFFs whom I LOVE LOVE LOVE in spite of her kooky love for SATC, CocktailDeeva says: It's witty, well written, women can relate..FABULOUS Fashion, Hot Men & Killer Cocktails...

She also gives fantastic reasons why women LOVE this movie and are obsessed (check it out here)

So, even though I don't get it and probably never will, I'd like to share with you what I told another Twitter BFF CLBuchananPhoto last night (who saw the premier and loved it) ... Opinions are like assholes, and since I've got both and this is my blog, I can express mine.

Feel free to express yours in the comment section.

Cheers!

Dear Diary: 8 Songs to Help Reclaim Your MOJO

2010-05-11T09:45:00.010-06:00

Music can set the tone of my day.

Quite often, I'll listen to Magic 99 in the morning because they play mellow, jazzy tunes that tend to keep me calm during the morning rush. Plus, I really just love the old school music they play like Billie Holiday, Frank Sinatra and Dean Martin.

When I need to FOCUS on work, I'm a fan of Enya. Her soothing sounds are wonderful white noise that don't distract from the tasks I must accomplish while on the computer. I'm not one of those people who can write and listen to music that I can sing along to, my brain doesn't work that way.

But when I want to get PUMPED up or am doing something physical, I crank the tunes to rock music. Anything by the Offspring, Meatloaf, Aerosmith ... as long as it gets my adrenaline pumpin, I play it!

If I'm in a BLAH mood, I try to play songs from back in the days when I would hit the clubs. You know... Salt & Peppa, 112, Blackstreet, Biggie, Monica, Alliyah, The Outhere Brothers (Don't stop movin baby, dontcha know you drive me crazy... WIGGLE WIGGLE!!) ... lots of sassy R&B. It's music that brings me back to a simpler time in my life where my biggest problem was deciding what outfit to wear to the clubs.

If I'm feeling FEISTY and wanna kick someone's ass, I play Eminem (he's very angry and has some amazing music!!) or Trapt ("Back off, I'll take you on!!! Headstrong, I'll take on ANYONE! I know that you are WRONG and this is NOT where you belong!") or Last Resort by Papa Roach, which was featured in Jet Li's The One.

And, of course, there are the rare moments I feel all MUSHY and girly so I play the sappy love songs like "Sex You Up" by Color Me Badd or "Too Drunk to Fuck" by Buckcherry.

What? Those aren't romantic?? Aw COME ON! They are so.

Anyway, because I feel like sharing today, I'm posting my TOP 8 songs for getting your MoJo back! Songs that make you feel like life is pretty fucking good!!

#8: You Can Do It, Ice Cube
#7: Dirrty, Christina Aguilera
#6: None of Your Business, Salt & Peppa
#5: Crazy Bitch, Buckcherry
#4: Lose Yourself, Eminem
#3: Cup of Life, Ricky Martin
#2: Life is Beautiful, Sixx AM
#1: Still Standing, Monica

And there you have it.

Enjoy! And feel free to post YOUR favourite songs.

Cheers!
t.

This Mother's Day, Forget About it...

2010-05-05T12:52:00.002-06:00

Mother's Day is just another day.

It's like the highly-commercial Valentine's Day; an over-rated holiday that reaches in your wallet and steals your money all in a pathetic attempt to prove your love for ONE DAY OF THE YEAR.

To all the mom's out there who need validation from this dumbass holiday, let me offer some advice - find something else to focus on.

If your family chooses to recognize your contribution one day a year, you have bigger concerns in your family dynamic. We all get caught up in our own little bubbles of everyday drama but if I've learned anything this year, it's to appreciate the people in your life who matter, EVERY DAY.

See it for what it is

Mother's Day is really just another Sunday. Sure, it's a good excuse to get together for a family dinner but should you really concern yourself with being pampered or receiving a "special" gift because you're a MOM?

Why should your husband give you a gift on Mother's Day? You're not his mother. Do you think you deserve it because you go all out for him on Father's Day? Think again, Princess. That's all you. He doesn't ask you to do it and he probably won't cry in his coffee because you don't do didn't get him the BBQ set he always dreamed of.

What's that? You went through the pain of child birth so you "deserve" to sit on your throne and have him rub your feet? You do so much all year, that one day out of the 365, you should be rewarded for your efforts? Why? So you can bitch and complain the rest of the year about how tough you have it?

Get. Over. Yourself.

Yup, being a MOM is tough, no doubt about it. But most of you chose to have kids. You knew what you were getting into when you stopped taking the pill or "forgot" to use the condom.

These commercialized holidays are stupid. Completely. And utterly stupid. Does having a store-bought card from your one-year-old really mean that much to you? Is your self-worth as a MOM found at the bottom of a drug-store bottle of perfume that your pre-teen picked out because he couldn't buy you wine?

Yes, I know you do so much for your family and you deserve to be recognized. You cook, clean, play referee, chauffeur, plan, work, organize, bank, shop, create ... the list goes on and on.

Personally, I've never liked to share. Not my toys, not my wine and certainly not my "special occasions." So why would I share Mother's Day with the rest of the world when I can have my very own special holiday that focuses on all things ME. Oh wait. I do. It's called my birthday.

I don't care if you choose to have your hubby go out and buy you a diamond ring for Mother's Day. Just don't expect any special treatment here... We'll find another way to celebrate all you fabulous bitches!

As always... Cheers!
tamara

Dear diary: First the Cromdale, now the York?

2010-03-26T20:53:00.003-06:00

I have to say, I have two memories of the York Hotel: the first, my "Step dad" was pissed because my mom wasn't home so he packed me and my younger brother up, called his brother to pick us up and drove to the York. Rich (my baby bro) and I waited in the passenger seat while he went into the York to grab my mom.

What I saw was him dragging my mom out of the York Hotel by her hair. She screamed. He punched her in the face. We watched in horror as as beat her while dragging her to the truck. All the while, his brother watched, sitting idly by.

It was my first lesson in relationships.

Before all of that happened, he tried to teach me Flashcards. I was 6-years-old and more concerned about being a social butterfly in a school made up of future convicts, than to worry about learning the multiplication tables. I stared at the Flash Cards. I felt stupid and weak and insignificant.

But then his attention turned to the whereabouts of my mom, and he took his hatred and violence out on her.

She made it to the truck with only a bloody lip and an eye that was swelling. But he beat her so badly that her head bashed against the truck window, with each blow.

My brother, who was only 2 or 3, sat in between me and "his" brother. I shielded my baby bro from any harm. But when we got home, I remember - vividly - the beating.

And the screams.

And the blood.

And the knife that held that door shut from the hatred and the violence that was separated only by a weak door.

He beat her.

And she screamed.

And bled.

And yelled for us.

I remember being more afraid for my mom, than for myself.

And I remember that being my first memory of the York Hotel.

Shortly after, we moved from that house on 82st and 112 avenue. And shortly after, it was condemned. And demolished. And so was the house after. And the house after. And so on.

The inner city was never kind to us. It killed my family in so many ways. But I remember the bad parts. And the few that were decent.

The "drag" in Edmonton, is better off with out the Cecil, the Cromdale, the York and any of the other scumbag hotels.But you know what? It didn't beat me.

t.

Dear Diary, My Dick is Bigger Than Yours, Margaret!

2010-03-18T10:30:00.003-06:00

Some women annoy me (OK most women do because of their catty bullshit but in this instance, I'm using the example of one woman in particular).

Globe & Mail columnist Margaret Wente wrote a column called "Why Are Bloggers Male?"

Now, normally I don't bother reading such esteemed journalism as that which comes from the G&M but I saw a tweet from Edmonton Journal columnist Paula Simons so I checked it out... and here's what I saw:
"Blah Blah Blah, women are far too superior than men to bother with blogs Blah Blah Blah men are stupid and women are smart."

OK, she was much more eloquent but that was the gist of it.

She hit a gender-war nerve when she penned this column and I have to say, it pisses me off. I blog. Not often, but I do and more so for the sake of venting than pretending I have any real writing ability (because let's face it most people who blog aren't necessarily "real writers").

Back in the day, when I was a struggling young sports scribe, I penned a column called "In Your Face" for a local sports rag called Edmonton Sports Scene. I was brash, sassy and arrogant, and had there been such a thing as a blog I damn well would've had one, too.

I'm a bad ass blogger

Now that I have my own magazine, I choose to use my blog to reach out to the other bad ass moms (and some dads, apparently) who can relate to my everyday life.

Margaret says she doesn't blog because, "The answer is pretty much the same as why I don't get a souped-up snowmobile and drive it straight up a mountain at 120 kilometres an hour into a well-known avalanche zone. It's more of a guy thing."

Notice how her link goes to a story about the three men who died in a BC Avalanche? Tacky as shit. Truly, show some motherlovin' respect for the families of those men.

She goes on to quote her equally-sexist friend as a source because, you know, she's obviously an expert: “Do you think men are more opinionated than women are?” I asked my friend Sarah the other day. (Sarah is 24, and several of her male friends have started blogs.) “No,” she said. “They just don't feel the need to think before they open their mouths.”

And so opens the can of sexist worms.

Well guess what, Margaret? Nine times out of 10 I don't think before I talk. It's called having an attitude and I'm OK with it. And you know what else, Margaret, nine times out of 10, I don't give a shit what other people think about what I say OR if it comes across as offensive or vulgar because, Margaret, nine times out of 10, I say what most other people don't have the balls to say.

So there.

"Perhaps you've noticed that most of the comments on these websites are not terribly sophisticated. They contain a large insult quotient, even when they come from people with advanced degrees. They remind me of nothing so much as a bunch of 12-year-olds holding peeing contests in the snow.

"Women never held peeing contests. Perhaps that helps explain why women tend to be more restrained and less concerned with public displays of prowess. We are just as interested in listening as in talking, and more interested in relationships than scoring points. We also tend to lack the public confidence that comes so easily to many men."

Guess what, Margaret? I'm pissin' all over the gawdamn snow because that's how I roll. It's women who think like YOU that give the rest of us a bad name. Go make some tea and crumpets and write about something you might actually know about.

Like knitting. Because that's what women are suppose to do, right?

Humbly and graciously yours,
Tamara Plant
Bad Ass Publisher and Potty-mouthed Blogger

Dear Diary: What if?

2010-03-15T19:41:00.004-06:00

My email has been down for the last week, effectively chopping off my arms of communication to the outside world. I live, you see, for the internet connection my BB, Kumar (named after the raunchy and inappropriate character from Harold & Kumar movies) gives me. I go to the bathroom with Kumar, I have coffee with Kumar and I sleep with Kumar. I'm not even joking, I hold him until we both fall asleep (it makes it easier to horizontal tweet at 2 a.m. Don't judge!) So when I wasn't getting any emails on Kumar, I got the shakes. So bad, that I dropped him and then swore at him. #BBparentfail

Being violently disconnected from the internet seems like the universe's way of telling me I may just rely a little too much on my beloved Kumar. But, I don't care.

Before I adopted Kumar, I was literally stuck to my damn computer, anxiously awaiting emails, FB updates and more recently Twitter @ replies.

So it got me thinking... what if Kumar could no longer do ANY of those things and even WORSE what if my crappy satellite internet was disabled. (It's happened, don't laugh...).

Well, if I knew prior to this catastrophic event, I might drink myself into a catastrophic oblivion. Or something like that.

But if I had one last chance to post a tweet, a blog or a FB update it might go something like this...

Heh hem.

Dear Diary,
Power outages can suck it. If you haven't heard from me by tomorrow, I want you to send help in the form of Scotch, Tequila or Wine.

That is all.

t.
PS Always remember that Life as a MOM doesn't mean life as a WOMAN has to end!

**note this post is in reference to a contest to Mable's Labels for my chance to win a trip to Blogher '10. Go Team MOM!!!

Dear Diary, Peter Puck posted a particulary pinheaded comment

2010-03-12T08:54:00.004-07:00

I moderate the comments I get on this blog and I do it for a reason. Some people are too stupid to breathe let alone post intelligent comments so I choose not to waste your time with publishing them.

However yesterday, I got a comment from someone calling himself Peter Pocklington and it made me go, "WTF?"

First, why would the Puckster bother himself with reading my blog, and second, the comments he made seemed a teensy bit scathing in regards to my Cromdale post.

Unedited (but not published to the blog) I give you old Peter's comments:

The Cromdale, back in the day, 1980's and 1990's was a great place to get drunk for cheap, see drug addicted crack strippers, and to pick up sleazy native and white chicks. But now it is an eyesore that for some reason the owners want to try and trick the City into purchasing just to get rid of it.It looks like the Cromdale may not be torn down anytime soon(see below for March 2, 2010 article). http://www.cbc.ca/canada/edmonton/story/2010/03/02/edmonton-cromdale-hotel-demolition-lawyer.html?ref=rss

This place is even world infamous for being a cesspool of scum and villainy: http://wikimapia.org/7227/Cromdale-Hotel

I am wondering why the original author of Mom Magazine who wrote the article "Edmonton's Notorious Cromdale slated for demolition" does not write another article on the Cromdale. Does she still want the Cromdale torn down or does she want the Cromdale to stay? Also has she ever partied in the Cromdale?
__

OK, "Peter", you sound more like Peter Griffin than Peter Pocklington with the comment "sleazy native and white chicks."

Second, that post was a snapshot of my childhood, nothing else. The Cromdale is nothing more to me than a tangible memory of a truly fucked up childhood and when I heard about the demolition, it forced me to recall certain memories I had stuffed away in the darkest parts of my soul.

If the city of Edmonton chooses to leave that structure, they are hindering any progress that area has of erasing what is wrong with that community; drugs, hookers, pimps, and petty criminals.

Lastly, asking me a dumb question like "have I ever partied at the Cromdale" shows just how truly ignorant you are. If you had READ that post, you would see that I had a drink on my 18th birthday with my mom at the Cromdale. One drink. It was a "bonding moment" because I desperately wanted to connect with her on some level. It didn't work.

Honey, I've always been too good to associate with the likes of the scum who hung out at the Cromdale, my own family included. My arrogance, confidence, intelligence and plain sense of right and wrong got me where I am today which is as FAR away from the Cromdale as possible.

Do I want to see it go? Absolutely.

Do I moderate my blog because of dumbass comments like those?
Without a doubt.

Edmonton will be better off when the Cromdale is nothing more than a bad memory.

Happy International Women's Day!

2010-03-08T14:46:00.004-07:00

Some days, I find it harder than others to get out of bed and do anything. Today was one of those days.

After being away from all things "MOM" for the last four months, I'm really finding it tough to get back into any sort of routine. I know I can't hide under the covers from the rest of the world forever so after convincing myself to drag my ass outta bed, I flipped through Twitter and saw that it was International Women's Day!

What a better day than today to reclaim my life! I've been so lucky to have met some amazing women over the past few years (OMG is it almost 3 years!?!), and I always feel better when I can celebrate the successes of other women, so now I am going to tell you about a few of them.

Karissa Sparling, Primerica
Karissa is a co-owner of Dragon Lilies, a children's and maternity clothing store in Spruce Grove, AB. She was one of the first supporters of MOM Magazine and has since become a true friend. I have watched her overcome adversity in her professional life and change careers (she's now with Primerica), all the while searching for her inner-zen. Watching her grow professionally and spiritually has been enlightening and inspiring because she forces me to find my own inner spirituality and become the best woman I can be. She comes across as an incredibly strong, focused and confident woman, and watching her in action is awe-inspiring. I'd never tell her that because then she'd be all, "That's right, bitches, I am not someone you want to mess with," and I'd have to be all, "Oh puh-leeze, you Robert Pattison groupie!" so instead, I quietly admire her strength and continue to be open to her ramblings of Louise Hay.

Christie Shultz, Entrepreneurial Moms International
I met Christie last year when she had just launched EMI. I wondered how she planned to take a MOM's networking group to an international level and was instantly in awe of her vision and trail she planned to blaze with her ideas. In such a short period of time, she has launched chapters of EMI in Ottawa, Austin and pending chapters in Edmonton and Vancouver. She did all this while pregnant with her third child and didn't let a little thing like childbirth stop her from continuing her work. She's spunky, sassy and has a 1,000 watt smile that lights up any room! Her charm makes you want to do anything you can to be in her presence and her business acumen is deadly accurate.

Erin Rosar, The Wine Girl
Who wouldn't love a girl who knows all there is to know about wine but isn't a snob about it!? Erin was one of the original columnists for MOM when we launched and we've watched her take her amazing knowledge of wine and turn it into a bubbly empire! Aside from teaching wine courses and being a presenter at another of our favourite women's initiative The Pajama Party, Erin launched Wine in the Kitchen, and her all-inclusive website features her very own WG TV episodes, tips and tricks, recipes, and so much more. We love Erin for being accessible, fun and putting the fun back in wine!

Kari Dunlop, The Business of Bliss
I met Kari about an hour before I met Christie Schultz, and she told me about the fabulous event she was planning which would showcase amazing presenters and bring together women who were passionate about their professional lives. She had already secured Sex and the City author Candace Bushnell for the event, which impressed me even more! I watched as she grew this nugget of an idea into a full-blown kick ass event that featured the likes of organization guru Peter Walsh, "O" columnist Martha Beck, kickass zen chick and business fire starter Danielle LaPorte, and the not-so-secret love of my life, fashion trail blazer Ben Barry. Kari is living proof that if you have a dream and a vision, you have the power to make it happen. She's beyond inspiring and I only hope she puts together another event for everyone who missed out on the Business of Bliss!

My reasons are purely selfish for this blog, even though they might seem altruistic. I feel better about myself when I am doing something to honour other women, and these women have inspired me, rekindled my entrepreneurial passion, reignited my dreams and have, whether they know it or not, given me support and comfort when I've needed it.

Happy International Women's Day to ALL of you! I feel so much better after writing this and I hope you can celebrate the women who have inspired YOU!

Cheers!
t.

Dear Diary, they're together again

2010-02-25T14:24:00.003-07:00

I knew my grandfather was going to die, it was inevitable.

Still, the last few days, I've felt like such a coward because I couldn't bring myself to go back to the hospice. Seeing him clinging to life and not being able to talk was heartbreaking. What was worse, was when he would grasp for my hand, squeeze it and look at me while he cried. He was so scared of dying and I hated seeing him like that.

So I came home on Monday after spending the night at the hospice. I stayed home all day Tuesday. And finally, after berating myself, I went to see him yesterday morning. He knew I was there because as soon as I walked in and cheerfully said, "Hi granpa!" he looked at me and winked. He held my hand for a bit and I talked about nothing significant.

About an hour later, I left. I believed I would get a phone call letting me know that he passed but, like every other night since he was admitted to the hospice, I didn't get that call.

So, this morning, I had my coffee, put on some makeup and took Lola with me to the hospice. I figured she could wait in the sunroom and play while I talked to my grandfather.

When I got to his room, he was staring at the ceiling. I cheerfully said, "Hi granpa! It's me!! Tamara!" But there was no reaction. I waited to see if he was breathing and sure enough, there was a faint breath.

I said, "Lola's here today but she's playing outside of your room."

It was so quiet. I listened again and watched to see if he would take a breath.

He did.

"Hey, granpa, Team Canada won last night!!"

He just stared at the ceiling and I waited for him to take a breath.

"Wait right here, granpa, I'm going to find your nurse."

Wait right here, yes, I am a dumbass.

The first nurse I saw was filling out charts. When I asked if she was my grandfather's nurse she said no and to ask at the desk. Honestly I wasn't sure what I was going to ask but I knew that I needed to talk to someone.

The only nurse at the desk wasn't my grandfather's nurse but she asked what was wrong and I told her that my grandfather's breathing was so quiet and that he was so different from yesterday.

She came to the room with me and watched my grandfather for a minute.

"He's taking his last breaths," she said. I looked at her.

"So that's it?" I asked. "It's a matter of hours now?"

She looked at me with compassion and said, "No. Sooner."

My grandfather closed his mouth and then gasped.

The nurse, Wilma, came around to where I was sitting and rubbed my back. "That may have been his last breath," she said.

I took my grandfather's hand and said, "I'm here, granpa. You're not alone."

And then he took another breath. It was quiet again and I wondered if that was it. But he took another one.

"I have to call my husband," I told Wilma.

When Ron picked up the phone at his office, I couldn't even talk. I just cried. He asked if my grandfather had passed.

"No, he's taking his last breaths. I need you to come here and get Lola."

I went back into the room and sat with my grandfather. He took another breath. Then another. In spite of myself, I chuckled and said, "Fuck, you're stubborn." Wilma smiled and said she had to go and get a stethoscope.

I watched as my granpa took another breath. He quietly took another breath. Then another.

I watched to see if he would take another one. But he didn't.

Wilma came back and asked if he had taken another breath.

"No."

She listened for a heart beat and, for one brief moment I wanted this to all be a bad dream, but there was nothing, and it wasn't.

"Dammit, grandpa I wore makeup today!" I said, as my tears and mascara made me look like a chubby Marilyn Manson.

I held his hand for a minute longer but I couldn't sit there with his body.

I went to the sunroom where Lauryn was playing and held her.

A few minutes later, Ron walked in and held me tightly.

A part of me is relieved that he's not suffering any longer but the selfish part of me wants my grandfather back. But at least he died knowing Team Canada was kickin' ass at the Olympics.

I believe my grandfather waited for me to come back to the hospice today so he wouldn't die alone. My grandfather and I were always close, ever since I was born. In fact, the old boy named me. Yup, my grandfather has always been there for me and, when he needed it the most, I was there for him.

My grandparents are together again and I take comfort in knowing that they are reunited.

Wherever he is, he's probably having a drink and would be telling me to quit crying and to have a drink with him. So, grandpa, cheers! I love you, Stinker! Give my grandma a big hug for me.

xoxo

P.S. I still hate the Calgary Flames.

Dear Diary, Things went down hill so fast

2010-02-20T21:05:00.004-07:00

It was just Thursday that the old boy was transferred to the Hospice and today, I'm waiting for him to die.

Yesterday, I went there after my in-laws picked up the kids for the weekend, and brought a bunch of stuff from his house to make him feel more at home. When I walked in, his son and cousin were sitting there (it's a long story) so I made myself busy putting up the painting of my grandma and a few other pictures he really enjoyed.

That's when his son told me how bad things were.

My granfather had been delirious all day. He was talking to people who had died and trying to fight someone. At one point, he was talking like he was back in the army.

People do strange things when they're about to die and I guess my grandfather is no different.

He looked at me briefly but wasn't sure who I was. I knew then, that he was gone. The grandpa I knew, wasn't coming back.

He's been unconscious since then. I've sat and held his hand, telling him that he needs to go now.

"There's nothing else for you to do now," I said. "Grandma's waiting for you. You have lots of people who are waiting so you won't be alone, I promise. Don't worry about me, I'll be fine. You've done so much for me and I want to thank you. So just be at peace and know that granma will be happy to see you."

It wasn't as tough as I thought it would be to say goodbye. Maybe it's because he's still hanging on, I don't know. The doctor expected him to go last night but when I got back to the Hospice at 6 am, he was still fighting.

I expected nothing less.

I sat with him most of the time, holding his hand and chatting about ridiculous things. At one point, the doctor came in and when I tried to move my hand, he wouldn't let it go. I smiled, and knew that he knew I was there.

It's been such a long, weary couple of months but I honestly didn't expect to walk into the Hospice yesterday and not be able to talk to him. I guess a part of me always thought he was still invincible. Maybe a part of me wanted to believe, for just one moment, that I would have some profound last conversation with him.

Guess not.

I believe I will just reflect on the time I had with him and appreciate it for what it was. No one can take those memories from me and no one can claim them as their own. For a while, we lived in our own little bubble, his was filled with denial and mine was filled with love.

Either way, he's on his way to see my grandma this weekend. I hope he remembers to tell her I said, "Hi," for me when he sees her.

t.

Dear Diary, I feel like I'm living the final chapter

2010-02-18T18:00:00.005-07:00

My grandfather moved into the Hospice today. The hospice, you know, is basically where people go to die comfortably.

He's so weak now. He weighs 123 pounds and is starting to have some confusion about certain things. For example, the other day he called me my mother's name. Grrr... of all things! Had he not looked so damn helpless I might have taken that pillow... :D just kidding!! Gotta keep things light!!

Anyhoo, yah, I wasn't thrilled. Especially when he said it a second time.

But then he has moments of extreme clarity and he tries to joke around. Sadly, he's so quiet and frail that you have to ask him to repeat what he says, and then he just gets mad. I laugh when he does that because if I don't, I'll cry.

Last week, he made me take him outside for a cigarette, and the damn wind was as bitter and cold as Kate Gosselin's sex life (hahahah, see? laughing is good!). Anyway, after freezing his scrawny, old man ass of for a damn cancer stick, he said, "Go get me a touque." Because, you know, I'm the touque fairy.

I humoured the old boy and decided that if was a touque he wanted, it was a badass touque he was getting!

Oddly enough, he LOVED the touque!

I can't imagine the pain he's in. I don't remember my grandma suffering this badly. In fact, she died at home in my granpa's arms. (Did I tell this story? I can't remember... forgive me if I'm rambling or repeating myself).

Anyway, my granma died of lung cancer 17 years ago, almost a year to the day she was diagnosed. They were living in Kuwait at the time and she came back home for treatments at the Cross Cancer Institute. A couple of weeks before she died, my grandfather came back for a visit and the night before he was suppose to leave, she died in his arms.

He was devastated. Rightfully so because my granma was the only thing holding my excuse for a family together. She was so amazingly beautiful, funny, sassy and smart. He adored her.

I even remember the last time I saw my grandma; she came to the studio apartment we had shared before she moved back to the acreage in Spruce Grove that my grandparents owned, and one of the last things she told me was that she wanted me to be happy.

Fast forward 17 years, and now it's my grandfather's turn to go.

Watching someone you love, die, sucks. Plain and simple.

My grandfather is physically a shell of his former self. To see the man I grew up thinking was the toughest sunuvabitch that ever lived, now be physically unable to do anything for himself and have to swallow his pride, is heartbreaking.

I know they're going to make him comfortable at the hospice. I know the environment is much more caring and private but I also know that this will be the place where he dies.

Thanks again for the kind comments here on my blahg and on Twitter. Your support means more than you know and often brightens my day.

xoxo
t.

Dear Diary, I think I'll be OK

2010-02-09T09:01:00.003-07:00

My granpa has officially given up. He told me so, yesterday.

He knows there is nothing that can be done and he is ready to just close his eyes and be together again with my grandma.

The nurses pulled me aside yesterday and said he officially had the doctor sign a DNR (Do Not Resuscitate) and that he had lost his fight.

I wasn't surprised.

I went in and watched him snooze. I took his hand and whispered, "The nurses said you are giving up. Have you lost your fight, granpa?"

He opened his eyes and said, "Yah." And then he closed them again.

I'm not gonna lie, I shed a few tears because I was sad to hear him so depressed and weak. But, I quickly composed myself and started talking about my day.

"You can't sleep your day away," I said. "Wake up and talk to me."

"I don't know what to say, Tamara. I just don't know what to say."

He closed his eyes and was quiet for a while, when I said, "You want a drink, granpa? I'll sneak you in some rye."

His eyes POPPED open, I'm not even kidding I laughed out loud. "Really? You will?"

I giggled and said, "Yes, the nurse actually told me you can have a drink."

When the nurses told me about the DNR, they also told me that he was declining rapidly because he wasn't eating or drinking and he refused his IV so he was close to dehydration. I joked that if there was rye in his water, he'd drink it and the nurse said that they would be more than happy to get an order for a cocktail for the old boy.

Honestly, I was a little surprised but she said that in his case, where he's dying and there's not much time left, they make exceptions.

So, when I told him the good news, it added at least a couple of days to his life because I told him he couldn't have any until today.

"Gawddamit, Tamara!" he said, shaking his head.

"See," I pointed out, "you've still got some fight left in you!"

He laughed and nodded.

This whole process has been long, and I am weary. Emotionally, physically and mentally, I am drained. But I've come to terms with everything and accepted the way it is. I will miss him dearly but at least I know we're both going to be OK. He'll go to my grandma and I'll still have my memories.

Until then, we still have each other.

t.

Dear diary: I don't know what to say

2010-02-04T19:17:00.002-07:00

I think I'm in shock.

I've known for a while how bad off my granpa is but it still is painful to hear the experts at the Cross Cancer Institute tell him there's no hope and that he has weeks, if a month, to live.

When I heard the news, I was eerily calm. I asked questions, tried to keep my granpa from being upset, and generally kept it together.

I even explained things to Big Daddy, repeated what the doctor said, and was fine.

There were no tears, just a calm rationalization that this was to be expected.

But now, I'm sitting here, trying to keep myself from hyperventalating and breaking down.

Cancer. Fucking. Sucks.

The doctor said his official diagnosis was that the primary source is unknown and that they could treat it with an aggressive IV Chemotherapy but that he is too frail and weak to take the treatment.

"Ultimately," the doctor said, "(having the treatment) could be the end of you."

My granpa, however, took that to mean there was hope.

"Well," he said, "let's do it."

The doctor looked at me and said, "No. I've treated 70-year-olds who have been able to walk in here on their own and you, well..." he didn't have to finish. My granpa is 6'2" and weighs 130lbs. He can barely wheel himself in his wheelchair let alone walk on his own.

He said the best they could do was make him comfortable.

Hearing you're going to die sooner than later is always a kick in the nuts.

When the doctor excused himself, wishing my granpa the best, I stood there not really knowing what to say.

So, I said nothing. And then we I talked to the doctor and he was really straightforward, telling me he thought my grandfather would be lucky to make it to 2 months, and that I should enjoy every moment with him.

And yet, I didn't flinch. Because I knew this was coming.

My granpa, however, was agitated and anxious to get out of there, the same way he was when he discharged himself from the hospital a few weeks ago.

Now, I am only trying to cope. I have always looked to writing as the ultimate therapy, so humour me if I tend to blog a LOT over the course of the next few weeks. I'm not looking for sympathy, I swear, I am using this as an outlet. I find it much more calming than any yoga or kickboxing class could ever be.

It's funny. I started this blog a blubbering mess yet I am finishing it feeling like it's going to be OK.

A couple of weeks... yah. Guess I better make sure that damn prozac prescrip is filled!!

Either that or my wine cabinet better damn well be stocked!

xoxo
t.

Dear diary: I think he's come to terms with it

2010-02-03T07:43:00.002-07:00

There hasn't been a lot of time from prognosis to now, in fact I can't believe it's only been six weeks since we found out he had cancer, but I think my granpa has finally accepted the fact that he's dying.

The last couple of days, he has clutched my hand and not wanted to let go. He tells me he loves me all the time, where as before I was lucky if I just got a wink and a smile from him. Yesterday he called and asked why it had been so long since I had seen him, but I had only missed going to the hospital on Monday and that's because I was sick.

"I love you, Stinker," he said.

"I love you, too granpa. I will see you this afternoon."

"Oh. OK. I miss you."

I think he knows that he doesn't have a lot of time left and it scares him. Yesterday when I did make it to the hospital, we chatted for a bit before he became silent. His eyes teared up and he said, "I want you to have granma's (wedding) ring."

I was shocked. Because when we had made arrangements for the funeral, he insisted that he be buried with his rings. I assumed he meant my grandmother's ring as well so when he said that, I replied, "You don't have to do that, granpa."

"I know I don't have to but I want to," he said, looking away. I could see the tears and it broke my heart.

"OK, granpa. Thank you."

Later, when he asked me to wheel him outside so he could have a cigarette (yes, he still smokes. What? There's no reason he can't enjoy the rest of his days... it's not like quitting now will make a difference), he said he wanted to complie a list of people to call. For, you know, 'after.'

I truly believe that he's finally getting his shit together because he knows there isn't much time left. Tomorrow we go to the Cross Cancer Institute for a more definitive answer on the primary source of the cancer but most likely I've been told not to hold out hope for treatment. Once he's done there, the palliative team will assess him however, once again, I've been told that he is probably a good candidate for the Hospice which means he has less than 2 months to live.

As tough as this has been for both of us, I do not want him to suffer so maybe it's a blessing. I am only living in the moment, though, and plan on making each one count.

t.

Dear Diary: A new month, a new outlook

2010-02-02T09:04:00.004-07:00

Oh dear diary, you know how shitty this past couple of months has been... well... I've decided to redirect my attention to things I can control; the magazine, my home and myself.

Last week, I was told my granpa has about 2 months left to live.

Good. Times.

But I expected it so there's really nothing I can change or control about this situation except that I can make the most of each moment I have left with the old boy.

However, I also realize that I am close to burning out from stress so if I'm not healthy I won't be good to anyone, not my kids, not Big Daddy, and definitely not my grandfather.

That is why I'm focusing on the next issue of MOM Magazine and our inaugural FIERCE Women of the Year awards.

Are you FIERCE?

Outstanding MEO:
YOU are an entrepreneurial mom who juggles work, home life, friends, family and are an industry leader! You run your own business. Your determination, spunk and grit have gotten you to where you are today. You have launched a successful marketing campaign for your business, shown impressive growth, mastered the art of social media and self-promotion, and can sell your products/services to your target market. When people talk about you and your business, it's with awe and respect because YOU impress people wherever you go.
Phenomenal Female: YOU have overcome huge obstacles in your life and are living a richer, fuller life in spite of the challenges you have faced. Life hasn't always been easy... there have been times when you thought you wouldn't make it but you found a way! You didn't let adversity win, you kicked it right in the ass and took back your life!
Rising Star: YOU are under 35 and have rocked the business world! You are making a difference in your community and will be a force to be reckoned with! Your ambition knows no boundaries! You may be young but you are brilliant, driven, influential, have great leadership skills and show the potential to continue making a difference in the community.
Dame Diva: YOU are past the poopy diaper stage of motherhood and enjoying the empty nest. Once a mom, always a mom, but you are also a woman, wife, friend, mentor and goddess! You share your experience with other women through volunteer work and/or in the work force. You offer advice, wisdom and comfort, and are seen as a mentor to younger women.
MOM Extraordinaire: YOU do it all! Volunteer, schedule appointments, take the day off to stay home with sick kids, co-ordinate playdates, run the household, do the laundry, bake the birthday cakes... there’s nothing you don’t do for your family! There is no such thing as "Just a MOM" and you deserve to be recognized for everything you do!

I've also changed some of the criteria for the awards and you do not have to be a member of FIERCE to qualify for these awards. Simply send in the entry/nomination form and we will contact the nominee for an interview.

This contest is open to anyone in the Greater Edmonton region but next year we are opening up the awards on a national level.

Let's honour some of the women who have made a difference! Don't be afraid to nominate yourself! We love to see women who are confident in themselves!!

I look forward to seeing your entries!

PS I want to thank everyone for their support and understanding during this extremely difficult time with my grandfather. It's not easy watching someone you love, die. Your kind thoughts and words mean more to me than you know.

Dear Diary: Life (and death) are truly fucking up my plans

2010-01-19T21:08:00.002-07:00

I don't know what I've done to piss off the universe but I've been kicked in the nuts enough times to know it must have been bad.

Before Christmas, my granpa was told he has cancer. Ever since then, it has been a struggle against time, reality, life, heartache, pain, denial, ignorance and so much more.

Today, we met with the funeral planner. She was an hour and 15 minutes late, which pissed me off to no end because this shit is hard enough to deal with without a mixup in schedules, and then the whole meeting was rushed.

But, we picked out the coffin, planned the memorial lunch, decided that he would be buried with both his and my grandma's wedding rings (which I had hoped to keep), was told that I would write the obituary, deal with the majority of the arrangements, find the pallbearers, contact his dumbass relatives, pick out a suit, ensure that my grandparent's "song" 'Look At Us' by Vince Gill is played at the memorial, ensure there is no 'service folder' for keepsakes (you know those gawdawful things they hand out for people to keep but you end up throwing them away, anyway, even though they cost a motherfuckin' fortune to print? Yah. Those.)

Yup. It was a pro-fuckin'-ductive day.

I hate this shit.

I truly do. Where the hell are his kids to do this? Why am I left holding his hand, telling him it will be a "Helluva party!" when he says, "Only you and I will be there."

He was so great. He knows how tough this has been for me. So he told me before I left today that the Cross Cancer Institute visit that he has coming up is only for a routine check up.

FML.

I hated having to sit there with him as he picked out his casket. Who the hell does that?

Put yourself in my shoes for one minute. Imagine yourself as an only child with no other relatives to turn to and the person who means most to you in life, is dying. So, you sit with them, hold there hand, joke with them and then pick out a casket.

Yah. Good. Fucking. Times.

Everything else is on hold for me. Too bad for anyone who can't understand that.

t.

10 Things I Love About Big Daddy

2010-01-13T06:54:00.002-07:00

It's our 10th wedding anniversary today and in honour of the 10 years that Big Daddy has put up with me, I've decided to list 10 things I love about the big boy.

Indulge me, for a moment, as I share a little background. It was -26C the day we got married but I always said it would be a cold day in hell if I ever walked down the aisle. I mean, who wanted to be stuck with ONE guy for the rest of their lives, let alone have kids? Sure as hell not this career-oriented babe. Nope, I was going to play the field, go from a minor daily newspaper as a sports scribe to a TV career on TSN! Yes! I had it all figured out.

And then, one impulsive trip back to Edmonton to spend New Year's Eve with my cousin and his wife led to a chance encounter that drastically changed the course of my life.

And now, after 11 years of being together and 10 years of marriage, I need to share with you what makes Big Daddy so damn amazing.

Prepare.... to be AMAZED!

10. He always tells me he loves me. Multiple times a day. Even when I don't like him at that moment, he'll tell me he loves me. Although when I ask him WHY, he never comes up with an answer. I think it's because I'm so freakin' awesome that there can't be just one reason.

9. The first night we met, we were bantering and he looked across the table and said, "I think you need a spanking." I knew then that a) I was completely turned on and b) he was smart enough to keep up with my witty conversation.

8. He's the funniest and smartest person I've ever met. I actually never knew I was as funny as I am until I met him because he introduced me to inappropriate humour like Southpark. I always liked dark comedy but childish comedy, not so much. However, because of Big Daddy, I realize that I AM Peter Griffin. So, in essence, Big Daddy is bangin' Peter Griffin. Weird.

7. Whenever I think of him, I smile. Most days. Don't get me wrong, it's not all sunshine and lollipops over here but when I am feelin' all lovey dovey and think of him, he makes me smile. Just picturing his pretty mug makes me grin.Now if that ain't love, I don't know what is!

6. He is the best dad in the world! Our kids are who they are because he is their dad. They have all of his best qualities and only a hint of his bad traits (yes, even Big Daddy is not perfect, as much as he'd like to think so).

5. Patience. He has more than Ghandi and Mother Theresa put together. Seriously. Because to be married to me and my smart ass attitude, one must be patient.

4. He accepts me for who I am. He wishes I would do things differently which means "his way" but he realized very early in our relationship that I march to my own beat. And, like Frank Sinatra, I do it my way. Right or wrong, I live life the way I want to live it, not the way I "should" live it, or "should" parent my kids, or "should" act in certain situations. And in spite of the way I am, he loves me.

3. Las Vegas. I actually booked an impulse trip on a Thursday to leave on the Sunday for our first trip to Vegas but once we got there, Big Daddy fell in love with Sin City (he wasn't too happy that I used our Bay Card to book the trip and subsequently cancelled the card but he enjoyed himself, nonetheless). Vegas has since become our escape from reality. That bright light city surely set our soul... it went and set our soul on fire! VIVA! Las Vegas!! Seriously, it's the place we go where no one needs us and we can forget everything for three days.

2. He's my best friend. I can tell him anything and not worry about him judging me (except when it comes to money, then he gets all "responsible" on me. It's annoying). But for the most part, he's pretty awesome. He'll even watch award shows with me!

1. I've never trusted anyone the way I trust Big Daddy. He makes me feel safe and secure, something I never had in my life (with the exception of my grandparents, of course). But trusting people has never been my strong suit, so trusting him the way I do is a big deal. I'm never worried about him cheating or doing anything to jeopardize our relationship. There's something about trusting someone so completely that is freeing and wonderful.

Happy 10th, babe. I love you more than you know!!

xoxo

t.

Devastated by a loss

2010-01-05T20:47:00.002-07:00

Of all things to break me, the World Junior Hockey final between the US and Canada completely broke my heart.

Not because I give a shit about the outcome, but today my granpa's biopsy report came back positive for all kinds of spreads of cancer, making it real to him and solidifying what the doctors have been telling me.

We sat there, talking about things that needed to be taken care of - funeral planning, will, his house, etc - when he looked at me and said, "If Canada loses tonight, I'll never see them win again."

At that moment, my heart broke.

Because we have a relationship based on hockey from as far back as I can remember. In fact, when I got my first job as a sports writer, I only wanted to write about the Edmonton Oilers so I could piss him off.

But this afternoon, with the biopsy report and the imminent Gold medal game between Canada and the US, it reignited my passion for hockey. Since leaving my career, I can't watch it because it pissed me off to see people who were less talented than me get jobs with major media outlets.

So, over the years, my passion has died.

Until today. When all my granpa wanted to see was the Canadian team win the Gold Medal.

Until four minutes left in the game, it looked hopeless. But I tweeted and tweeted about this meaning so much to my granpa, and pretty soon people were re-tweeting it, cheering on Canada in hopes that he could witness a final gold medal in his lifetime.

When they tied up the game, I was ecstatic!! For me, it was hope!! I called him only to find out he was in the sunroom at the hospital ignoring the game. I told him Team Canada tied it up and he said, "Are you serious?"

"No," I replied, "I'm just calling to fuck with you. What do you think!!! Of COURSE I'm serious!!"

"Well, get off the phone," he said, "I've got to get back to my room!"

And with that, I replied, "I'll call you when Canada wins!!"

He laughed and said, "Sweet dreams, Stinker!"

And then the overtime happened and I'm devastated.

The dam that I have been building since I found out about my grandfather's cancer, broke. I had to get this off my chest.

I guess the only thing I can take comfort in, is that after he told me about never seeing Canada win was that he'd never have to look at the Edmonton Oilers again.

Well. In all of this bullshit, he's keeping a sense of humour. And so shall I.

No where's my gawddamn wine!?!

t.

PS Thanks to all my tweeps who have supported me throughout all of this. You know who you are. I am indebted to you.

Happy Holidays... I'm fakin' it this year

2009-12-23T16:18:00.002-07:00

I cannot seem to feel good about the holidays this year. It's sad because it truly is my favourite holiday but this year... I have little Christmas spirit.

This weekend, my granpa was told he has cancer. The found it on his liver and it isn't the main source of the cancer so that means it has spread. He's dying, plain and simple.

We all are dying, I know, but I feel like I've aged about 10 years in the last week. The weight of having to deal with a parent's imminent death is horrible.

He's my granpa, not my dad I know, but you see, we have each other and that's about it as far as family goes. I have always been close to my grandparents. Always. In fact, if it weren't for them, I would not have made it through an otherwise shitty childhood.

I don't talk to my mom and he isn't close with anyone else. He is my step-grandfather, it's complicated but he's been there since I was born so he's my granpa. Simple as that.

Anyway, because my "family" is so messed up, I have leaned on and counted on my grandparents for life lessons, strength and guidance. When my grandma died, I was only 19 years old. Her and I shared a studio bedroom apartment in Edmonton, before she died of lung cancer.

My grandfather was devastated when she died, obviously because she was the love of his life. It was then that we developed a ridiculously strong relationship based on our love and passion for hockey.

I know, right!? Weird. But we had always battled about our Oilers/Flames love/hate relationship. He's from Calgary and likes to bug me about the Oilers while I'm an Edmonton girl and love to rub it in his face about our 5 Stanley Cups. It's how we bond.

My granpa flew in from Kuwait to walk me down the aisle when I got married (did I mention he lived/worked there for 20 years? Yah, that's another blog).

When I got a job at a daily paper as a sports scribe, he flew home to make sure I was doing OK and let me know how proud he was of me.

When I had Oscar, he came home to meet him. Oz is named after Big Daddy's granpa but his middle name is my grandfather's.

I haven't seen my granpa as much as I should have in the past couple of years... life gets in the way. But I always think about him.

I was at the hospital this afternoon and the doctor told me I should find out what his "code status" is in case it's needed.

Do you know what a code status is? It's a DNR - Do Not Resuscitate. So you either are a thumbs up or a thumbs down.

How the hell do I approach that? I don't like asking these questions and I sure as shit don't want to talk about him dying. He's depressed enough.

So I said, "Granpa, I have to ask you a question."

"Ok, dear."

"Uhm, well, you know if you go flatline, do you want the doctors to try and save you?"

Fuck. Tactful as all hell, aren't I?

He just looked away and said, "Well at that point I won't care, now will I?"

Then he started talking about the Oilers. Because he's scared of dying, I'm sure. When I'm talking to him, I maintain a pretty calm, cool and witty composure because I don't want to stress him out.

But he started talking about his will and personal papers and things I just don't want to hear about. Ignorance is bliss, right? If I don't know then it's not real.

I had to leave. I couldn't sit there and discuss it with him. It's too painful.

So I left but he called me as I was driving home and asked me to bring him a notepad. That there were some things he wanted to get on paper.

So, here I sit. Blogging instead of getting in the truck and driving. I'm stalling because I just don't want to go back today.

I am truly struggling with how to put on a chipper facade for my kids over the next few days. I guess I just have to focus on the moment with them this Christmas and block everything else out.

Think I'll look up one of the Cocktail Deeva's recipes and fix me a pitcher of somethin' for when I get home. There's sure to be some holiday joy in there!! ;)

xoxo

t.

Love for the Twits

2009-12-18T08:44:00.002-07:00

If you're on Twitter, you know all about the #ff or Follow Fridays. It's how you high-five your fellow twits and build your community of followers. I personally like to call them Twits because followers makes it sound like I'm some sort of cult leader ... plus I don't believe anyone should "follow" someone. Always be a leader!

Ahem. I digress.

Today, I have decided to steal the idea of @InspiredCoach of blogging my Top 5 Twits of the week. She mentioned me last week because I'm so damn awesome, and this week, I reciprocate to her because she friggin' ROCKS!! Add her to your Twitter community.

#5: @Optimom She gets it!! She preaches and teaches the value of putting yourself FIRST, above the kids, above the hubby, above everyone because you can't take care of anyone if you are struggling to take care of yourself. Personally, I think she stole this idea from me because, you know, that's how she rolls... she mischievous that way. And she says stuff like "Sweet Niblets!" when she really means "Ass Hat."

#4 @TassimoCanada If you love coffee,, you NEED to have this coffee brewing system. FYI MOM is giving one away next week so be sure to enter our contest!! I blog about coffee. I tweet about coffee. No one loves coffee more than I do, and finding this coffee system was like finding Big Daddy. Except I never thought my love affair with the Tassimo would be just a one-night thing, where as Big Daddy was suppose to be. 11 years later I figure Big Daddy might just be a permanent fixture. But I still have a love affair with my Tassimo. So there.

#3 @TBSonK97 The K-Rock morning show is raunchy. And according to the Terry, Bill and Steve show on K97, MOM is worse than they are. *blush* we're honoured that they would give us such a compliment. We love Terry, Bill & Steve. They make us laugh, they make us cringe and they make us feel pretty damn good about ourselves because we know we could never, ever be as badass as they are. HA! I wrote that with a straight face!!

#2 @SalesDiva For all you FIERCE women in business, you need to know Kim Duke. She will give you the tools you need to take your business to the next level. She's the sassy sales diva who gives you tips, points you in the direction of the experts, sends you newsletters full of useful information and gives you the kick in the ass you need!

#1 @BigDaddySaid well who else did you think would be #1 in my world?? Big Daddy is funny. And brilliant. And only smart people get his sense of humour. If you like to be entertained and engage in witty, intelligent banter, I highly recommend him. And if you prefer the opposite, feel free to follow me.

#thatisall

t.