The Arrival Home

The house was dark and still when Jamie and I rolled our suitcases into the front foyer. As we made our way into the house all of its usual smells sprung to memory and I realized that even after a short week I had begun to miss this place. Or perhaps it was just the thought of the small people who lived here that had my heart skipping a beat.

Daniel, Jamie’s brother, was asleep on the couch. The hallway lights were turned off and I’m positive at that moment I had never felt quiet quite like that. The time was somewhere around eleven o’clock at night as I made my way towards the children’s bedrooms.

After all of these years of parenting, all of the frustrations and meltdowns, I really didn’t think a week long break would be that difficult to endure. And believe me I’m not complaining. You know, the sun, the sea, the amazing quality time that my husband and I got to experience in our seven days of childfree time was very much treasured.

It seemed however that so many of the activities we participated in while visiting the Mayan Rivera would remind us of our little darlings back home. As I snorkeled with sea turtles I could only imagine how elated Sophie would be to meet those massive sea creatures too. Or whenever Jamie and I would stumble over one of the hundreds of iguanas that roamed our resort we couldn’t help but think of Lars and how fascinated he would have been with the small reptiles.

Needless to say our flight home was filled with anticipation. We both couldn’t wait to give those first initial hugs and kisses to our babes after what seemed like a lengthy time apart.

As it sometimes happens we got a bit held up in our arrival back to Canada and found ourselves at home much later than we expected. Despite my efforts of “accidentally” waking the kids up by clumsily dragging the suitcases up the stairs and flicking on every light in the place, that evening they slept right through the night. Go figure.

I decided to unpack the suitcases that night, because well, I’m that kind of a type A human being. As I created a mountainous pile of beach wear that needed washing I wondered how the kids’ time away from us went. If you remember a couple of weeks ago  I had poked fun at the fact that they were so excited for us to leave that they couldn’t help but verbalize it in their honest adolescent way.

A major part of me expected that this is exactly what happened. I was sure they had hardly thought about us or our absence at all and they had had the time of their lives while we were away. But I must admit there was a tiny part of me that hoped we were missed.

The saying “distance makes the heart grow fonder” I’ve come to discover is true in so many different circumstances. Here, I realized how our time away from the kids has made me appreciate their beauty and uniqueness in a way that I think we all as parents can sometimes overlook in the hustle and bustle of everyday life. But I have to wonder if children experience that same kind of logic and reasoning when away from the people they love?

“Daniel?” Sophie called from her bedroom faintly. I rolled over to look at the clock, 6:30am. Jamie’s brother Daniel had tucked her in the night before and she must have forgotten that we were coming home.  I moved eagerly towards her room.

“Good morning my love.” I said.

“Mom?” She asked.

“Yes, sweetie, it’s me.”

“Mama, it’s you!” Tears began to immediately stream down my daughters face as she jumped out of bed and ran towards me. “I missed you so much Mom! I love you.”

I knelt down to hug her; I too was now crying because of this unexpected emotional response from her—the kid who usually is least likely to show this kind of sentiment. She grabbed my neck to pull me close to her, “I really love seeing your face right now Mama.” Lars then joined us from his room and we all moved towards mine and Jamie’s bed for a cuddly family reunion.

I guess it goes to show that distance certainly does makes the heart grow fonder and that is true for any age group.




To the kids-

To the boys and girls of this world,

To the small human beings

Who today play pretend in make believe dresses

Playing trucks, flinging rocks, miss-matched socks

Ponies, and care-free essence.

To the children whose hair flows freely, without suspicions of messes

To the girls who don’t concern themselves

With mascara stresses.

To each and every one of these

Small and striking personalities

Stay true to this you, for it is just so beautiful.


50 MORE reasons I love the shit out of you…

Dear Husband,

Once you sent me a meme that told me you loved the shit out of me…Oh wait here it is right here:


This prompted me to write you a post revealing the top 50 reasons I love the shit out of you. It was all sorts of adorable and sweet and if I do say so myself, I really got the point across that I do in fact love the freaking shit out of you.

But that was then and this is now and I have an overwhelming urge to conjure up yet another 50 more reasons I love the shit out of you.

So here they are babe…

I love the shit out of you because…

  1. You are super hip and cool and fresh.
  2. You will have understood that last reference.
  3. We are old-balls.
  4. We are old-balls together.
  5. You laugh at my corny jokes.
  6. I actually think your corny jokes are hilarious.
  7. You are the only other person who can safely make fun of Lars and Sophie without risking a punch to the throat.
  8. You are cool with it when I dress our kid up like this…006
  9. Or this…soph
  10. Or when I sometimes dress like this…320767_10150416794551068_2019810557_n
  11. You don’t get mad when I tell you I will plug your car in in the morning and then I forget and you nearly are late for work because your damn car won’t start. You just laugh and make fun of me about it.
  12. You have allowed me to be such a high maintenance wife that we have had 3 separate wedding celebrations and two anniversary dates. Spoiled? Nah I’m pretty sure everyone does this sort of thing.
  13. You didn’t get mad that one time I was shaving your head and on total accident I shaved a line right down the side of your scalp…Sorry again about that- that definitely took a while to ‘buff itself out’.
  14. “Fish, and plankton. And sea greens, and protein from the sea. It’s all here, ready. Fresh as harvest day. Fish and sea greens, plankton and protein from the sea. And then it stopped coming. And they came instead. So I store them here. I’m ready. And you’re ready. It’s my job. To freeze you. Protein, plankton…” -Box
  15. We made the most beautiful (albeit sometimes annoying) kids on the face of this earth.
  16. You are super awesome sexy…Yep, I said it.
  17. You brainstorm with me when I have writers block.
  18. No Jamie I’m not going to write erotic fan fiction…
  19. You tell your co-workers not to go looking around in the external hard drive you lent them because your wife’s erotic short stories are saved on there.
  20. …you convinced me to write some erotic fan fiction.
  21. I realized I’m actually kind of good at writing in that kind of genre.
  22. You challenge me.
  23. I secretly wish I could be as cool of a person as you. Don’t tell anyone that though.
  24. You are utterly genuine.
  25. You are unaffected by today’s bullshit. (that is one of the biggies of why I love the shit out of you)
  26. “That’s when you know you’ve found somebody special. When you can just shut the fuck up for a minute and comfortably enjoy the silence.” -Mia Wallace
  27. I kind of like looking after you when you are being a sick little baby from the dreaded man cold. You’re adorable when you are so sick like that.
  28. Drunk Jamie…That one is never going to change. He is outlandish and unusual and very very fun. But with that said- I’m glad he only accosts me once in a while.
  29. Drunk Lindsay is sometimes not fun and adorable like Drunk Jamie. And yet in the uncommon occurrence she comes out you still manage to look after her. Thank you.
  30. Even when we are mad…We’re not really really mad. We are just ‘I’m feeling like I want to fight but I can’t start throwing punches at my spouse so I will just sulk for a little bit’ kind of mad. And then within a few hours one of us gives in. Usually you. Because you are nicer than me.
  31. You are a way nicer person than I am. Whatever.
  32. You make me a better person. However lame that sounds, it’s true.
  33. We once made fun of the couples on Facebook who professed their love to one another…And now we are that couple.
  34. Pretty soon we are going to start using the term YOLO- or is that not in anymore?
  35. You are super awesome sexy…Did I already say that? Well double that.
  36. You are sweet.
  37. You are tolerant of me using our children’s baby pics to create hilarious memes…dtxng
  38. You write me love notes when I least expect them. img_11251
  39. “Weena!!”
  40. You open doors for me and pull out my chair at dinner. You are a true gentleman.
  41. The way you put the kids to bed without a moment’s hesitation when you see that I am captivated in one of my shows.
  42. Your understanding that I am a writer. And being married to a writer is a slippery slope or extreme mood swings and mental peculiarity- you’ve taken to it amazingly.
  43. You work so hard to provide everything our children need.
  44. Our children are your priority. You are an amazing father.
  45. Having to write this post has totally distracted me from working out.
  46. How you don’t tease me (too much) when you catch me taking selfies…Like all of the time.
  47. Our kids have totally inherited your uniqueness. 10712975_10152706206531068_5897407806186583241_n
  1. Butch:I think I cracked a rib.
    Fabienne: Giving me oral pleasure?
    Butch: No, retard, from the fight.
  2. Your charming good looks.

And the 50th reason I love the shit out of you Jamie is because no matter what the situation you can and always will be able to make me smile.


Picture Day; why you do this to me?

Parenthood is a constant learning curve. With each milestone achieved comes a thousand and fifty one mind-numbing lessons on how it could have went smoother.

Once again I had stumbled blindly into the vast pit of things I still don’t understand about parenting.

It was picture day at Sophie’s school. The night before I dreamed luminously of my darling daughter in an adorable sweater dress with an adorable smile from ear to ear. Buoyant, and of course, adorable ringlets flowing down from her adorably tiny scalp. She was going to look- you guessed it- adorable.

I wasn’t worried at all about the day. I had endured picture days before with Lars and it had always gone swimmingly. I actually felt like one of those perfect champion mothers who love all things parenting…Well, when it came to picture day at least- I was a freaken Pinterest Mama.

Upon waking that morning Sophie wanted her hair done immediately. Uh uh uh but I knew better. Sophie’s school doesn’t begin until 1 in the afternoon so her hair I would start by 11 and she sure wouldn’t be putting said sweater dress on until after lunch. M’lady can be a wee bit boorish when it comes to consuming her beloved KD.

I had it all figured out.

So when 11 o’clock rolled around I whipped out the flat iron and began to curl the girl’s tresses. I was quick like The Flash speedily twirling the iron through her locks creating a plethora of beautiful curls flowing down her tiny neck. The prophesied adorableness was coming to fruition, and I could not have been more contented.

As I finished she looked up at me then into the mirror then back at me and said in the sweetest of voices, “Thank you Mama, I love it!” She then ran off to the living room to show her big bro. As she flitted away a fleeting thought about how I never had to worry about Lars` short cut hair on picture days buzzed through my mind.

I disregarded it though, because someone as awesome as me when it came to picture days shouldn`t worry about such things.

I was in the midst of creating a tweet about how picture-day-amaze-balls I am when I heard Lars let out a deafening scream.

I ran to the living room just in time to hear Lars say, “NO SOPH! MOM IS GOING TO BE SO ANGRY!!”

There was Sophie ferociously worming head first into a huge pile of cushions and blankets. It was as though I could see the static electricity snapping around her cranium as whispers of ‘all for nothing’ and ‘you suck at picture day’ zipped through the air.

“NOOOOOOO! What the hell are you doing?” I screamed so loud that I could feel the sour looks of judgement that I’m sure were coming from the passerby’s outside of my home.

Sophie popped her head out of her makeshift mountain, looked at me innocently and smiled. It was the same smile that we had been practicing earlier that morning. That very smile demolished any ounce of cockiness about picture day I had left.

I looked at the clock. We had t-minus 45 minutes until the school day began. I didn’t know whether this was a good thing or bad. More time for me to fix the hair but also more time for her to fuck it up again. We were at an impasse. A hair stalemate if you will. I knew I had to make my move despite what the consequence would be.

I re-curled. The two of us in the bathroom would have been a sight to see. Me bawling for all of my hard work put to waste and her bawling because she realized she must sit in the bathroom for another 15 minutes while I completed the task. Plus I’d like to think she was feeling even a teensy weensy bit remorseful over what had happened. The latter I`m sure was completely made up of my own delusions.

I threw her sweater dress on and out the door to school we went.

As we waited outside her classroom for the teachers to ready themselves for the day I noticed Sophie had a bit of a runny nose. Before I could even rummage through my purse to find a tissue it happened. Sophie had single-handedly taught me the most important lesson about parenting I will probably ever learn.

As Sophie Anne rubbed a huge snot booger onto her dress and somehow into her hair as well, I realized that when it came to parenting- arrogance never pays.

Pre snot episode

Naked In The Bathroom Mirror


Naked In the Bathroom Mirror

Recently a girl said to me in a frenzy,

“Do not post those pics on Facebook

I’ve got a muffin top in them.”

I gave her one of these, “Pftt”

And proceeded to ask why she cared.

Now this did not fare well for me

As she looked me up and down, scowled and replied,

“As if you don’t care.”

And maybe once I would have.

Once I would have hated the naked body

That stared back at me from the bathroom mirror.

Maybe I would have resided right alongside this girl

Scrolling fanatically through I-phone photos

Choosing just the right angle so the Facebook and Instagram ogler couldn’t detect

Those double chocolate coco cookies I consumed only minutes before.

Maybe at one time when I gazed upon a picture of myself

All I would see was a double chin, cellulite skin, and a chipped toothed grin.

Maybe I once fixated on being thinner.

I could be trimmer, slimmer, and all around fitter.

Maybe I would fear there would always be a better…

Maybe back then

When I looked at this heinous version of myself

I would have obsessed on how to deliver

A prettier body in my bathroom mirror.

Maybe I stewed over how to wither away those last 30, 20, 10

God forsaken pounds

Because I somehow thought that misplacing that fat

Was the key to my everlasting happiness.

Maybe I needed filters and Photoshop

To perceive my self-worth.

Maybe that legendary number on that proverbial scale

Produced this gale force wind blowing in-

Insecurity and self-doubt.

Or maybe- I was just not supposed to love myself.

I don’t know when it changed

Or why or how or for what cause.

It didn’t seem like something to keep track of I guess.

What I do know is that when I stand

Naked in front of my bathroom mirror-

I fear nothing anymore.

I embrace the pot belly I once scathed

I can eat like a goddamn queen on any given day.

I no longer see the imperfections.

No, they are whitewashed by a chipped toothed grin

While I laugh freely and dance uninhibitedly.

I’ve trashed the scale that once made me feel so damn sickly.

And I will continue to preach loudly about beauty.

All that I know for certain I now am.

And all of that uncertainty beforehand

Now just seems so damn silly.

I feel lighter as the blinders have been removed

And I can unequivocally love

This naked body that stands before me

In my bathroom mirror.

In A World Like This

He looks towards me, and says that I am beautiful

I want to rebut his adoring approval

As I wear sweats for pants, and the stank of toddler shit dances off my skin.

I haven’t showered today…Who am I kidding, I haven’t showed for three

Beautiful is not the adjective to use for me.

I find that my hair is up in a messy bun more often than not these days,

but I keep telling myself that that’s just a phase.

He walks closer to wrap himself around me

And again spits out the beautiful line,

That line- that line that I can’t for the life of me define

How can he find, this bedraggled person who stands before him beautiful?

The thought making me unnerved and rueful.

It must be lies

Because in a world like this, where the sought after women

Eat only steamed broccoli and the plain breasts of chicken,

I am consuming the leftovers on my children’s plates

From beef-a-roni to KD to crumbs from their cakes

In a world like this, where the women today have

Heavy make-up plastered all over their face

Without a wrinkle or blemish, not even a trace…

And mine is pocked with dots all over the place.

In world like this where the sought after women are glamorously clad

In skin tight dresses, on every television ad.

How can I stand up to the women in a world like this?

And that is when I feel his hands on my hips.

He looks directly into my eyes, and tells me

That in a world like this,

In a world that places so much emphasis

On an outwards appearance, with the menacing facade

of marketing ads featuring women’s counterfeit bods

In a world like this, where a woman’s breast

Can be transformed into a plaything upon her own chest

In a world like this where anorexia is fit

And women suffer daily from disorders like this

In a world like this, his words cut me sharp

In a world like this, “I’d rather a woman that causes me sparks.”

And he rubs his hand down the thigh I was just crying about being thickened over the years

And he tells me that I am truly beautiful.

And I believe him.

Handy Housewife Hint #002

Well here we are, another week has passed which brings us to the next instalment of The Handy Housewife. Here at The Handy Housewife the charming Helen will give us tips and tricks to becoming the kind of homemaker your husband can truly be proud of.

Handy Housewife Hint #002-A Handy Housewife will always ensure her allure is up to par.

Now, although the thought of ‘letting oneself go’ once finding that special someone is quite tempting, Helen our Handy Housewife frowns upon this theory.

Helen believes that staying at ones peak of physical attractiveness is indeed a key role in the continuation of a blissful union.

When commencing her beauty regime, Helen always inspects and harshly scrutinizes each and every flaw on her face.

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Mentally noting each miniscule area in which will need extra care in these next few pivotal moments of application.

Helen will then weep direly into the lonely mirror, silently wishing that her face still looked as it did 10 years ago.

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No amount of foundation can help you now Helen…

Once Helen indulges in some self medicating time, she is ready to move onwards and upwards.

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Helen believes there is a very fine line between whore make-up and  debonair housewife make-up…Helen urges you NOT to mix the two up.

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Unfortunately, when too much self medication is involved…

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Helen occasionally does muddle up the two…Possibly in reminiscence of her younger years.

If such an occurrence should happen to you; simply throw a hissy fit, rip out only the slightest bit of hair (assure this will not be noticeable) stomp your feet and then carry on.

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Now that the lovely Helen has released her pent up rage for reasons she doesn’t quite understand, she is again ready to move forward, getting back to the order of beauty.

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The Handy Housewife knows that lipstick is the secret to any triumphant boudoir escapade.

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And blush can be that crucial shielding layer that saves your money-maker from those untimely misfires.

And finally Helen is ready!

Ready to woo her husband into submission. Because clearly no man…Or woman for that matter, can deny the sexual allure of a gal who knows how to properly beautify herself.

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Because an unkempt housewife, isn’t a handy housewife.

Photo Credit: Imagine The image Photography

**And remember friends, The Handy Housewife will be returning every Wednesday to bring you more fun and fabulous ways to become the handy housewife you’ve always dreamed of being!

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Share The Mama, Save the planet.