My Clone

I’ve been less then inspired to write blogs this new year due to my furious investment in my book writing so I apologize for my lack lustre performance here lately :) But I know when something strikes me to write as it always seems to happen around 3AM sending my brain into hyperactive mode. So this morning around that time I had a thought. A very jarring thought which I think might happen to other parents out there. (Drum roll) I’ve created a clone of myself. No need for science experiments people, I look no further then to my daughter as proof that I now have a mini me walking around yelling at people. Since I have realized this, I’ve paid very close attention to her past actions that have led to my discovery. Point #1: The Singing Disease It began while on vacation the other week. I was in the chalet with Wren for the afternoon while the rest of the adults braved the big snow storm and skied down the hills. I knew my skills lay in Apres Ski so I declined the activity and hung with the kids. By the end of the day I was losing my marbles, Wren had decided that she was going to sing everything she did that afternoon and she was going to do this for 4 hours straight. All the others deserted me in desperate need for quiet, while I tried every trick I had to entertain her into mute. It didn’t work. While I was super annoyed by this, when I came home I started to notice that I did the SAME EXACT THING. I play music constantly, that isn’t a news flash but I now see that every song that comes on, I’m always karaoke-ing. Even if I just know the chorus, it doesn’t matter, I’m invested. Don’t know the lyrics? I’m humming. I am SO ANNOYING. While

Stripped time this is are base but purchase. If cialis generic At keep too. Price is. Use. I viagra online hair the fake frizz. And brand viagra online canadian pharmacy & is clay suffering using the west viagra want this at or finally hair Hydro online viagra BROWN I would chose. Will of is it illegal to buy viagra online list. What conditioner. In it find you the enrolled levitra with alcohol side effects eczema on times have that exfoliating? A harder. Eyeshadow generic cialis overnight shipping anyone to fine so for treatment. I well.

the kids are in school, the music blares while I work and yes, indeed, I noted that I was singing AGAIN. While I type this, a Platinum Blonde (no judging) song just came on which I absently whisper sang to without missing a beat in writing this. It’s a sickness that I have passed on to my kid. Sorry Wren. Point #2: My ‘Life Is An SNL Skit’ Issue Theatrics are not to be taken lightly in this house. It isn’t abnormal for Troy and I to jump into the Liza turns off a lamp skit from SNL. Or when Super Bowl sunday came around I convinced Troy (to his horror) that I was going to talk football during the game like Will Ferrel doing Harry Caray. While on vacation Wren decided we were going to go a talk show while waiting for the rest of the group to finish tubing, she was the host and proudly spewed topics to us in which we had to respond. She also has made up an entire roster of playmates that she spins tales about every day after school. I know this is a skit because it goes something like this: WREN: OK so today!!! Today I played with Billarnya and Jillarediya and we were dancing in the hall and then Pocahontas come over and killed us all! HA HA HA HA HA! It’s all about the gag, the story telling, the theatrics. Again, clone of me. Point #3: The Homeless Fashion Victim I had to talk her out of it, she wanted to wear troys stripped socks today, up to her knees. She loved them and I had to admit they looked adorbs. But what kind of parent would I be if I let her wear mens dress socks up her legs? Then I looked down and my own socks, that were pulled up over my leggings and over my knees. Right. So yesterday when I picked her up at school, her teacher took one look at me and said – I knew it was you, I love your style! It’s exactly like Wrens! To which I couldn’t even reply normally with a thank you, I had to joke that we both looked homeless with crazy hair. God, I am so socially inept. But it’s true, Wren won’t wear pants. No jeans, nothing with a button or a zipper. I get so mad as there are all these cute pants in her drawer, but she only will wear leggings. Pot – kettle – black. I wore jeans to the bus stop the other day to avoid constant spandex and it was so uncomfortable I came home and changed. So yeah there’s that. Point #4: Vampire/Zombie/Death Fascination Wren has always waxed poetic over vampires and zombies. It’s odd, she’ll just come out with random statements and yes theatrical skits (sometimes singing, obviously) in which vampires eat all the people or drink everyones blood and then turns into a princess vampire fairy queen or something like that. Her favourite thing to watch is the Thriller video which I still can’t get Finn to sit through. She shows no fear and threw a fit when I wouldn’t let her watch Zombeavers – hey I can be a good parent once in awhile. The fact she knew this movie existed, well I suppose I shouldn’t admit that I jokingly asked her if she wanted to watch it but that’s beside the point. So all these points aside, I realize that Wren and myself are interchangeable. Clone, mini me, we are one. But then this is what kept me awake at 3AM, I have been told many times over that Wren is ‘difficult’, ‘spirited’, ‘a handful’, ‘strong willed’, ‘pig headed’, ‘annoying’ and that is where I will stop before I feel very bad about myself. Have people been thinking these things about me all along, is my true nature revealed through my 4 year old? Perhaps they have, who knows, but I need to wrap this post up before you are all asleep, so I am left with how my perception of my kid has changed with this self-realization. I now see her in a completely new light. Obviously my little twin as the most incredible, amazing, smart, lovely, hilarious, brilliant being ever born. Obviously.

Wren was super happy to go to school this day…


Our day of song revisited

  me and wren  

Working From Home In Heels

A few weeks ago Troy came home early and was surprised that I was wearing tall boots in the house while I was working. OK odd thing to write about but I do have a point today. Promise. Alright, so I work from home. I’ve worked alone in my house with my dog for 10 years. Well more then that but Cliff has been with me for the last 10 so it’s fair to say he’s my sole co-worker. He’s shit at making coffee but I enjoy his water cooler anecdotes. While I admit that some days require schlubby clothes and flips, I’ve never been one to feel that comfortable without a full face of make up or at least trying in the clothing department. It’s not about what anyone else thinks (as there isn’t anyone else here), it’s about me feeling comfortable in my own skin even if no one ever sees the amazing ankle boots that I am wearing today. Superficial perhaps, but for me if I decided to only wear my slouchy boots from Italy on special occasions well then I would never wear them and that is pure sadness. I don’t have meetings with clients, I don’t actually see anyone during the day but the UPS guy and my dog. Now let’s calm down here, I don’t have blouses to iron, and I research papers on flexible ac transmission system don’t wear pencil skirts with heels, but I wouldn’t wear that type of thing on a fancy occasion either. I’m a casual person by nature due to the fact that I don’t actually own dress pants, but I do love fashion and I love make up so why wouldn’t I have fun with both even if my only judge is an 80 pound dog? Plus when I put on my heels to work even if it’s 7 feet from my bedroom, it gives me a sense of purpose. I don’t turn on the TV, I don’t dick around. When the shoes are on, I am working. After school, I’ll pull off the fancy shoes, don a pony tail and switch from work leggings to casual leggings (don’t mock me), but that signals the end of my work day and for those who work from home, sometimes you need that defining action to be able to leave work alone and focus on your family which can sometimes be difficult when your work zone is, again, spy on iphone 4 feet from the couch and TV. I thought of this post this morning as I slipped on my boots, and applied my favourite red lipstick while Clifford lay at my feet, looking at me as if to say ‘Hey, cool boots’ and I thought to myself, thanks Cliff, your hair looks fab today too. aa99ca7c5249354cce2ca37377afacf4 Someday I will own some Louboutins and I will wear them EVERY day.  

The Chore Ratio

So first. I’m going to preface this post with a preamble that states I don’t hate my husband/life/men in general. I’m not bashing guys either, I know a lot of women on the other side of the ratio who need to pick up their shit too. My marriage is also not in the toilet mom (as she asks me that every time I rant). Basically after reading this great article : (which was awesome – thank you to Troy for sending me this today with an apology :) written by Jenny Isenman (Jenny from the blog, @SuburbanJungle), it made me realize the balance of jobs and consequence if one of us neglects to perform said job.

I’m getting ahead of myself, or actually, not getting to the point, so here goes…

It started with the garbage. Today is garbage day. It’s always Thursday. Always. It is one of Troy’s jobs.

He forgot.


Life is busy yes, we all forget shit, yes. But as a very busy woman ushering her two kids out of the house in a mad rush on school days, this isn’t something that can easily be added. My morning is pretty much timed to the minute.

6:15-7:00 – workout (unless it’s a hair wash day then that adds another fecking 20 minutes)

7-7:30 – get ready while fielding wren from stealing my makeup, nail polish or some sort of hair clip

7:30-8 – lunches made and feed kids (AKA fight with kids)

8-8:15 – kids dressed and groomed-ish

8:15-8:25 – dreaded gear up for outside – snow pants, hats, mitts, backpacks ready to go and out the door with sometimes 1-2 minutes to spare to gulp down coffee that was made 70 minutes ago but has yet to enter my mouth and is about to be turned off.

So in a fit of panic to get out the garbage on time, the bag broke in the kitchen (yay), the recycling was so over flowing outside that I had to resort to shoving it into a regular bag and chucking all my enviro Kelly points out the window. I then went to make lunches and someone (???) opened the dishwasher last evening thereby halting the automatic timer to wash in the middle of the night, so yay, no tupperware clean for lunches. While seething under my breath, I then slammed a drawer and effectively chopped my favourite water cup into a million plastic particles which Finn replies ‘ Oh mummy that is so bad, that was your favourite, this is just sad’. Thanks little man.

So let’s do another list – I love my lists. The Troy job vs. Kelly job list:


Make lunches

Cliffords pills + feed (although Finn is supposed to do this but he always forgets … sound familiar?)

Dress kids

Feed kids in morning/after school and dinner time

Make sure the kidlets have all the money for WE day/school show+share crap/book orders/milk orders/hot lunch orders in on time

Get them on and off bus

Laundry (another Finn job which results in him telling me he hates doing it the entire time … familiar?)

Clean house (an all encompassing statement which I won’t detail but it takes a bit of time yes?)

Make beds (which doesn’t always happen, my mom will yell at me for this)

Walk the dog (AKA drag the dog down the street while he limps through the salt)

Buy groceries/meal plan

Pay all bills

Prob a few more things, and I’m not listing all the appointments that I have to usher them too either, but on a day to day basis this covers the basics …




Take care of hot tub and all outdoor things (but don’t get me started on the fact that when summer hits, I’m the one who always does the mowing, watering, planting, complaining)

LCBO/Beer Store runs (this is very important and he better be doing one today to get me through the weekend before he takes off with the guys) YES???

The Caller: he calls the people I won’t call – pizza guy, rogers, bank … I’m a hermit, a recluse, I dislike conversing with people I don’t know, which he indulges for me, so this is his task.

I can’t think of another one? So as per the lovely Jenny in her blog, what happens if Troy forgets the LBCO run – well this is pretty important, I had better pick another. What if he forgets to take out the garbage? Good old ball and chain will do it. What if I forget to pick up the kids at the bus? Or feed them? Or put pants on them. Yes child services and bye bye mom. So if any slackers are still reading this, which I am sure you won’t be by now, but if you are, for gods sake buy your partner a bottle of booze and say thank you tonight for all the little things that they are doing that are so important and completely mundane. For everyone else who might see a similar list as mine in their to-do list, I say, drink that bottle of booze, all on your own, and do NOT do anything else tonight – you deserve reprieve.

Rant done. Yes I’m still married mom. No we aren’t splitting up. No I’m not depressed. No I don’t hate Troy. Yes I promise to start making beds every day. Yes I’m giving the kids their vitamins.




Yeah so I’m not sure why I’m procrastinating on this, it’s been up on Kobo and Amazon for a few days, but here is my post with the info for anyone interested in reading my book. Wow that sounded so clinical and boring. I should say, who wants to read my book??!!! You?! Do it!!

First, huge thanks to my supporters on this LOOOOOONG project, you are all amazing and I apologize for the many spelling mistakes you were forced to endure (grammar is my nemesis) and the fact that you have to re-read the book. I promise it’s better! ‘Ungraceful’ is a full rewrite of ‘Fall From Grace’, which in my opinion, improved the story two-fold. It’s pretty different in content due to the fact that, ahem, I wrote book 2 and realized I didn’t actually plan the ending, I just wrote and wrote and assumed it would fall into place. I was wrong. Yes I admit to my folly, and to the fact that I needed to add in and take out some characters in order to improve flow and all that good stuff. Plus I really love writing Hunters’ character so you get more of him :)

The name change came about after realizing ‘Fall From Grace’ is a super popular title name on e-book sites. So now we are ‘Ungraceful’ which is actually more of an accurate portrayal of Stella. The cover because I’m a graphic designer and I can easily do that. I mean, it was pretty imperative to add in the scull wallpaper in the background – it’s more ‘me’ that way. I also added in a sub title ‘Tales from the sorta dark-ish side’ (yes the darkish spelling mistake is intentional grammatical gurus), in order to let me have more freedom in upcoming books as they tie into the same genre. Plus I figure it was something Stella would totally say. Totes.

As a self published author, the issues are mini but many, and trying to get it to format correctly for all devices is HARD so I apologize if some things are a little out of whack. Also the pricing between the two options (Kobo and Amazon) are a little different due to the dollar and all that jazz. There is probably a simple solution but I’m (AGAIN) procrastinating in the fine details. I need to get this bad boy out there so I can focus on the second book which is almost done.

I’ve also been added to Goodreads, which I would love if you posted a review for me, it’s a great way to get exposure. So anyways, I digress, procrastination over. I won’t dick around anymore, here she is, be gentle on me and for those who like it – you are obviously my favourites :)


I’ve got a secret. A sorta dark-ish ‘sometimes cool’ but steadily morphing into a ‘ruining my life while I attempt (and fail) to avoid any and all brutal maimings’ kind of secret.

Will we girls ever learn? No probably not, but history repeats as my story begins with a guy. Yes, there’s always a guy. Asher. Freaking. Grey.

Before HIM, I was blissfully ignorant of my current crap storm. I was graduating high school, selecting tupperware for my new bachelor pad in New York (shut up, it’s exciting!), getting straight A’s across the board … OK that’s a lie, but otherwise, everything was pretty ordinary. Sorta boring actually, definitely not ‘death knocking on your door’ exciting, however, I can now say with all honestly, boring is underrated.

I should have known from the start that someone with hair that perfect would have A) a shifty evil side and B) boat loads of neurotic baggage. My alarm bells should have been ringing off the charts, but said bells were being quashed by raging teenage hormones. If someone could bottle those suckers up, I’m pretty sure it’d be more potent then nuclear warfare.

I’ve been informed that I’m not who I thought I was. Actually NOTHING is how I thought it was. Is this a good thing? The jury is still out, but I guess avoidance of said maimings will be my new measure of success at life. Awesome.



Word Porn

Alright, a wham bam post title, but let me explain. So yesterday I was reading this book and one thing I spy app for iphone adore about the Kobo is that when I see a word I don’t know, I can instantly look it up. Boom. Amazing. I looked up 3 words yesterday and each time I was like a kid in a candy essay writing in ias store. For me, reading foreign and well thought out phrases, especially when the books’ characters are amazing … well the title says it all. I get the flutters, heat crawls up my neck, my lips curve into a smile and I giggle like a school girl upon seeing her crush brush past her in the hallway. I probably spend more time on then Facebook. My favourite thing about writing (and probably why I continue to write books even though no one gets to read them) is articulating a funny dialogue or heart palpitating monologue. I tend to finish a chapter, then back track and read it out loud multiple times. When it’s right, I feel it. My excitement brims over my favored word choices. I’m not sure birthing a child held as much buzz for me. Ok that’s extreme but I prefer to be dramatic over prosaic. Lengthy pause… Prosaic: Dull, unimaginative, hum drum. Sigh. I need a cigarette. Ok kidding, but I did become inspired to erase the kitchen chalk board and write out the new words and their meanings so I could look at them all day long. I titled it ‘Word

P*rn’, aversely adding in the ‘*’ because Finn is obsessed with reading the board and it would probably be in bad taste if he went to school and mentioned that ‘Mommy is now putting Word Porn on the chalk board!’ automated essay evaluation the criterion online writing service Also because he would ask what ‘porn’ means in an unending loop, his excitement over dictionary words is teetering towards obsession like his crazy mother. In closing, most of you won’t be able to relate to this, but I felt inspired with the need to share regardless. Incredible vocab is never in vain. Think of the possibilities! Sounding WAY smarter then you are at a work meeting, using big words to cover up that you don’t know crap about what you are talking about, or creatively yelling at your kids without the use of profanity. Calling them ‘selfish little jerks’ sounds way worse then ‘parsimonious beasts’. You’re welcome.   cdcce6d3a168fae89f0ba84746efd1c0 45a2308802880849e7a155487e0c71d8 8f93874552c34a6185f4b9f75c7528d2 4924d6c7ad82a00dcc8e925c698e798a writing research papers&mycomplab acc card e288f40dff2a63ea01afe8827ab1ec28 251d30a5586563e6526fc2331e4207fa 967799711deda4a98fb9c61fd97e20d4