Three blondes in a basement....

There are few things in life better than a best friend.  They are there to pick you up when you fall, call you out your own crap and generally create amusement at your expense at any given time.  That is what my best friend does for me.  We have been through A LOT in our nearly 20 years of friendship.  We have truly grown up together. Relationships like this are good for several reasons. 
1. it keeps you grounded. 
2. you can always be yourself and have no one to impress.
3. they retain too much information about you to end the friendship....


I can honestly say there are few who know me like my bestie.  She has walked my road of disaster behind me, collecting all the pieces I have left behind while I stumble around in life trying to figure my crap out.  She is much more together than I will even pretend to be.  She always has her i's dotted and t's crossed....while chances are I have not only forgotten a pencil, but the pad to write it on too. She has always been a bit of a clown.  I was always the one to steal the spotlight with my loud, obnoxious need  for attention...she was behind me pulling some sort of prank and getting all the laughs. We worked great as a team in our bar years.  The memories that we have carried with us, still to this day make us laugh.  And perplex us, as to how we actually made it out alive of some very tedious situations. Chances are, I probably showed some one my boobs...lets be honest.


As we have walked the path of mother hood together, our weekends of drinking and partying have been exchanged for scrap booking and shopping. We used to rush to the mall to get new outfits, and stock up on liquor when we came to each others houses. Now we dig out our sweat pants, load up on junk food and hit the craft store.  Never in my life did I really think that this is what we'd become. However, I enjoy the evolution of where we are....and the "girls" just don't rock a low cut shirt the way they used to anyways.


This past weekend, she and her family traveled the distance (ferry and all) to come and visit. We were very overdue for a serious scrap booking session, and frankly I was very excited!  As usual, it didn't take long before the stupidity that follows us, knocked on the door. Literally....


The night that she arrived, I had an upholstery class to attend. She stayed home with our 4 kids, and my girlfriend Elisa and I picked up her husband from a convention. We were about a half hour drive from our house.  On our way home, my cell phone rang, it was her. "We have a serious problem" she says. Now, coming from her, this could be any number of things.  The kids could have caused some sort of mayhem....the house could be on fire....or we could quite simply be out of potato chips. I was really not prepared for the response. "I'm locked in the basement".


Being self employed, I am required to have a lock on my basement playroom door due to health code. Now, I was in a predicament with this request. My children's playroom is on the other side of my salon, and the room has no actual exit. Only the windows. I had to decide which side to put the lock. If I put it on the inside, and my kids locked it and closed the door, I could never get back into the room. If I put it on the outside and you got locked in, you could climb out the window. So, we choose the outside. In the 2 years that the door has had a lock on it, it has only been locked twice....once the last time that she came to visit, by her youngest daughter...and this time, by her oldest. Do you see the irony in this? Now last time, she just crawled out the window (which is ground level) and went through the front door and unlocked it for the rest of us.  This time was a little tricky...


Because she was home alone, she had dead bolted both of my doors.  And because she arrived, after I had left, she had my only house key....in the house...on the other side of the locked door. So, even if she climbed out the window, it would leave ALL of the grownups outside of the house, and my kids locked upstairs and her girls locked downstairs.  Not a good feeling as a parent...but absolutely hilarious as an adult.  Did I mention she and both her girls are blonde? Even funnier.


While on the drive home, she and I discussed possible scenarios as to getting the door open. She attempted to pick the lock with one of my hole punchers....it broke off in the door. She used my hammer to bang the pegs out of the door hinge. It wouldn't open. So when we arrived, her husband, Elisa and I try to find just one window that's unlocked. Turns out, my house is super safe. Great when you're inside of it, not so great when your outside. We found the kitchen window was unlocked. We maneuvered a trunk to below the window and perched a ladder a top of that.  Thankfully, she had access to my scrap booking tools and was able to pass a blade through the window so we could cut the screen.  It's also a good thing her hubby is a chiropractor and not a surgeon as his screen cutting ability needed some work....(which Elisa and I teased him about the entire time he was teetering atop the ladder) Poor guy.


After he managed to get the screen off, he had to inch his way in through the window.  Through the window in my door, I could see the kitten staring up, with a perplexed look on her face.  It was truly hilarious.  I managed to snap a quick pic with him half out the window, and I have to admit that I laugh hysterically every time I look at it.  

This would only happen to her. It's one of those things that you log into your memory bank, to be brought up when we are in the nursing home.  I hope that when the day comes, and I lose my marbles, and have forgotten most of the things in my life, that God allows me to forget the heart break, sadness and loss that I will have endured over my life, and let's me keep my laughter, love and joy I was given.  I hope that our kids put us in the same "home" so we can re-live the ridiculous, stupid, and silly life lessons that we were taught. I hope that I will be able to remember all the laughter, and the things that linger with me and still make me laugh out loud at the most awkward moments. I hope that the day will come, that I will only remember all the amazing things that I have lived. I hope that this vision is burned into my sub conscience so that I may have many hours of laughter yet to come. I hope that when I have lost the ability to remember my own name, I remember my kids, my husband, my friends....but more than anything, I hope that I remember that in moments like this one, I was truly happy. 
Our friendship has stood the test of time so far. It has had it's up's and down's, and shared it's struggles. But there is no one on this earth that can bring me to laughter and make me almost pee my pants the way that she does. And let's face it, after two kids....that is no laughing matter...

Time Flies

One of my biggest peeves in life, is people who are late. Being in a business that is booked by appointment, I will admit, that there have been a few occasions that I have refused a client, simply because she was late.  Most memorably, a client who was ALWAYS late, I actually refused her, although the rest of my day was totally open! It was more important to me that I waste her time and teach her a lesson, then earn an income I guess.  However, she was never late again. Then I had children.....

The ability to understand time has been lost to me ever since. Not only, can I rarely get my shit together to be somewhere on time, but I have also lost the concept of it all together. Mostly, how fast time passes, what time of the day it is, how much time it takes to cook dinner, how much time it takes to get out the door, how much time it takes to fit in all the crap that is on my list for the day, how much time has passed between visits with a friend, and most importantly...how much time has passed since my hubby and I have had sex.  I will admit..."time" completely eludes me.  I always think I have more of it, then I actually do, and I always think things will take less time then they actually do.  I am, quite frankly, a mess. 

I have trouble keeping track of days, weeks and yes...sometimes months. I mix up days, appointments, schedules and most of the time, leave all things to do with my children's school events, until the last minute. That would be why I was up until midnight making valentines cards and cake balls prior to Valentines Day.  What the hell is wrong with me? Am I the only one who suffers from this? I look at my friends, and they all seem put together and organized? I can't even get it together to do my hair and make up anymore. Shit...if my sweat pants are dirty, I actually have a panic attack. Lord knows, I don't have time to do laundry anyways....

I remember my first pregnancy dragging by. Waiting for him to arrive felt like molasses.  What I wouldn't do to have that back.  I can remember a time when my house was clean, meals were made, and I had time to sit on the couch and watch t.v. and it was borderline, boredom. Unaware that life was going to kick into high gear when my babies arrived, and that there was no longer a second in my day that wasn't spoken for.  I have come to realize, that there is not enough of me, or hours in the day anymore.  How I wish I could go back to my mommy hood, (pre) pre-school.  I had no idea what would happen to our life when I was forced to follow a schedule set out to me by someone else.  I am a walking disaster. I am not afraid to admit it.  I looked in the mirror today at my caterpillars for eyebrows, and the hair in a ponytail that I will admit that I slept in.  I have yet to wash my face today...and it's 3:00 in the afternoon.  I had big plans to work out this morning, however, let's face it.....I don't have time for that.  Since I am up until midnight trying to accomplish the 1 million things on my list, there is no way in hell I am waking up at 5:00 am to haul my ass downstairs to fit in a work out. And yet, the irony is, that I would actually feel better if I just did it anyways.  

You hear it from every parent in the world. "Enjoy it, it goes so quickly". And I will admit, that this is all too true.  Sometimes, after I put them to bed, I will admit to going in for a few brief minutes and watch them sleep, as this is my greatest, pending fear.  Who am I going to be when the day comes that my job is done? When I am no longer needed to clean up messes, cook meals, change beds and do laundry.  Who am I, when I am no longer a "mommy", but just "mom". What will I do, when I have time to spare, extra time....time to waste?  Will I look back at these years as they have flown by in a frenzy.  Will I regret all the times I have chosen to finish my list, instead of listen, or play. Do I take enough time from something unimportant and put it where it's the most important? As this life that I have been given, flies by at record speed, I am trying to take the time for the small things. I have to remind myself on a daily basis, that sometimes the chores can wait. Sometimes, it's o.k. if the house is a mess, and the tub is growing pink mold......because there will always be mess, there will always be things on my list.  But there won't always be my children, young and precious, sweet and innocent. They are after all, my greatest joy.  

So I am happy knowing that on a day like today, I chose to sleep in a little longer with my little girl in my arms, instead of putting on make up.  I chose to eat breakfast with my children this morning, instead of doing my hair. I chose to take my daughter to dance class, on time today, instead of worrying about what I was wearing.  Today, I made the choice to put my time into my children, instead of myself, for all too soon I will have more than enough time to worry about me, and my children will be off in the world learning the very lessons that I am currently teaching them. What do we all do with the very little time we are given? How have you chosen to spend it? Who have you chosen to spend it with? What is the legacy you hope to leave behind when your time is up? 

For now I am trying to stretch every spare second, out of every minute in my day. I am trying to juggle the many tasks that befall us all, while doing it without grace....but with humor. I will take a few extra minutes tonight to read a longer book than usual, because if I have learned nothing else in this life....our time on this earth is short. Our legacy that we leave behind is long. It is in our family. It is in our children. It is in the difference that we make in the world. No matter how small we may think our part is....only time will tell.

Poop happens...

One of the most rewarding perks of mother hood, is body fluids.  Wait...nope, I was mistaken.  It's not rewarding at all!  
This week has been a lot of fun with my son falling ill with some type of virus.  Thankfully (knock on wood), my children do not get sick often.  And even more thankfully, they have yet to have the flu.  That's right, in 6 years, other than baby spit up, I have only had to deal with barf, once.  Thank the Lord, as I hate vomit more than anything!  That was until this week. Whatever this virus happens to be, has attacked my son's chest and he was coughing uncontrollably (it's not whooping cough). Pair that with breakfast....and you can take a wild guess what the outcome was. However, he frankly hates to eat these days, so it could have been much worse.  
I do believe firmly that we are either typically barfers or poopers.  In other words, I think that if you are prone to throwing up, you most likely aren't prone to having the poops, and vise- versa. Unless you have a food allergy, that's different all together. 
When my kids get sick, it's always the same thing. Fever,chest cold, the shats.  It never deviates. It just changes in severity. As a result, I unknowingly signed up for poop cleanup for all the rest of this mother hood thing. 
Given the choice between the two, I'll choose poop every time. Although, I will admit that I am totally content to NEVER have to do it again in my life.
Early in parenting, my husband and I made a deal.  There are pink jobs and blue jobs in our house.  
Garbage=blue.....vomit=pink. Heavy lifting=blue....poop=pink.  Get the jist of it? Now, granted my hubby works damn hard for this family, and never turns me down when I have a ridiculous request of him.  He happily does it, with out question.  After all "Happy wife = Happy life"!  But if it is something that has physically come out of our children, it's game over.  He can NOT cope with it. In all fairness, I do think the ability to deal comes with mother-hood. I can't deal with someone else's child's body functions, but my kids could seriously poop right on me, and I wouldn't be phased. And they have.....
I must admit that there are times that I thoroughly enjoy watching him squirm with disgust when one of the kids needs him and I am unavailable.  He also get the same joy, I'm sure when I am forced to do things like, clean poop out of our daughters bathing suit at the beach.  Had I known these little perks would go along with the job, I don't know that I would have signed up quite so eagerly.  But I suppose that gross goes with life.  My husband has been forced to clean up bags of garbage after dogs have gotten into it, and I think that's way worse than a little bathing suit poop.  
So I suppose my lesson for today is that with age and mother hood, I have learned how to take the gross stuff in stride and not worry too much about the small things.  We all have a little poop in our lives, now and again, and no matter how much you hate it, you have to deal with it. Literally and figuratively. I realize how far I have come in the world when my child barfs at the breakfast table, and I am calm about it.  I realize how funny it is, when my daughter poops down her leg, and says "I just don't know what happened"! in her little four-year old voice.  These are the strides in life that we handle with grace and dignity, up to our elbows in mother hood. Ahhh, mother hood.  On the bright side, my babes are still young enough that this is just a stepping stone.  Too soon I will have to deal with dating, high school, and the drama of adolescence.  For now, I am happy to own my poop...I suppose that's the purpose of life, isn't it?  To "own" your own poop, and to realize that no matter how to try to avoid it....poop happens.

Junk in the trunk

With the nightmare that was my January behind me, I have embraced February with a renewed sense of relief.  Most people celebrate the new year...I am more of a February person. By now most people have either fallen off the wagon or failed with their resolutions, I however am just beginning.  The last couple of weeks have been extremely productive for me. Anyone who knows me, knows that I am never one to sit still for long.  I actually think I may have a form of OCD, but I prefer to analyse it as anxiety.  A lot of people enjoy projects...I obsess about them. It's a bit of an illness, I admit!  

January has now come to a close, and I have finally begun to feel a sense of control again. I have thrown myself into a serious house make over. As I get older, I have really noticed how my style has evolved, and how I have finally started to know who I really am. I have always had a love of all things retro and vintage, but my decorating was very modern. I loved dark browns and surrounded myself with neutral earth tones and clean lines. Recently I started to look around at my home and have begun to feel anxiety with all the "stuff" that has cluttered my life.  

I am a huge follower of Oprah, and the "life-isms"  that she preaches.  One particular "life-ism" has always followed me. "Your home should rise up to meet you".  I am a self professed "home-body". This is why I have chosen to work from home, as the anxiety that has plagued me from being in the work force has taken it's toll on me. As a result, I am also surrounded by the constant reminder of clutter and the anxiety that it has caused me. 

This journey that I am on, has required a tremendous amount of self-reflection.  I have started to have a lot of "ah ha" moments while I search for inner happiness and peace.  One of those things is the amount of money I have spent to make my home look good. What I have recently realized, is that it no longer makes me feel good. This is where Elisa, from "Home Sweet Nest" enters the picture.  My partner in crime. I have known Elisa for the last 3 years, when she was my boss at a local salon.  She recently closed out the business, and has started following her own passion....all things junk. She has inspired me beyond belief, with her amazing ability to create beauty from junky. Don't miss the opportunity to check up on her blog, as the projects and idea's that she creates are truly inspiring.  

So over the course of the last few months, I have been collecting things for my daughters bedroom, as she will be moving from her toddler bed to a big girl bed....(insert sound of me crying), and at the same time, putting together idea's for a major revamp in my living room. Elisa and I have been scouring the thrift stores for all the pieces I needed to put together the perfect vintage inspired girls room.  I must admit, that prior to this, you couldn't get me in a thrift store to save my life.  What I have discovered about myself, is that I actually love thrift stores.  There is something really refreshing about getting a piece of furniture that isn't made in a factory and sold at Ikea. The furniture that I have had up until now is made of particle board and mdf. The pieces that I have recently bought...for super cheap I might add....are all solid wood, with amazing detail and potential. They have a soul, and I am in love! 

Let the painting begin.  I realized that I can no longer stand the brown! Everything I own is an earth tone! I have forced myself to step out of my comfort zone and embrace all the pretty things that I always see but was too afraid to try...enter more "earth tones". I have finally embraced, soft greens, vibrant reds, vintage blues and white! I painted over the brown with a whipped cream and am stepping out of my box by recovering my wing chair in an aqua blue.  I can't believe how much better I feel, just by lightening up my surroundings.  As this transformation is taking place, I truly feel like I am cleansing from the inside out.  I recently acquired the most beautiful hutch and buffet from a good friend. It was her grandmothers, and the fact that she trusted it in my hands is the best feeling in the world. I have always wanted a hutch and buffet.  But the ones I wanted were SO expensive, and now in retrospect, probably made out of mdf and particle board! This one is solid wood, and absolutely beautiful. I am so excited to give her a coat of white paint and the inner drawers a soothing "Tiffany Blue". Even more exciting, is the thought of filling her with my Gran's china, and crystal that has been sitting in a box in my storage room.  There was a time when I almost donated all that stuff.  Now, I can't wait to fill my home with it. I can't wait to clean out the closets, empty out my storage, purge the junk! Cleanse myself of all the clutter, put to use the things that I love, and pass on the things that I truly no longer need. After all, I have come to realize that one person's junk is truly another person's treasure.  

It's funny how sometimes we get caught up in what's trendy, what's new, what's popular.  I however have decided to go the opposite way.  I am looking for old, tattered, broken, and discarded. I want my home to rise up to meet me, be comfortable for my friends and family, be lived in, be beautiful to me.  I am trying to no longer care about what other people have. I have started to embrace the things that make me happy, make me fulfilled and make me at peace. Who would have thought that happiness can be found in using your imagination, getting a little dirt on your hands and spending less money.....in a thrift store!