I'm baaaaack. Sweatpants, Rihanna and other things. Happy 2014

Okay so it's been an inexcusably long time blog. It's not that I don't love you. I do. It's just that my interests tend to be a bit ADD and I've sort of been entertaining other interests and too tired for much else. 

It's not you. It's me.

But truth be told no matter what else I may be doing (ie. training for a Tough Mudder competition, planning and executing pinterest worthy parties etc. etc.) my first and truest love will always be you writing. 

No matter where I go, or what I do, I am -and have always been-  and will always be- a writer at heart. I can never stay away for long. And so I'm back.  I hope you'll welcome me with open arms.  

That aside, I though it fitting (now that I have rid myself of whatever alien virus was trying to kill me in since the beginning of January) to start the New Year off with a cathartic cleansing session of confessions.

And since we are in the New year (and also because I haven't keep track of how many previous confessions I have made), I shall start afresh. New confessions for the new year. These are my failures as a person. I do hope you enjoy them blogger world and one follower.

Confession #1  - I love makeup.  

       I do.  I just do.  And I feel really sort of guilty about that.  I recently watched a  Ted talk that rhapsodized about how high heels and a "mask" of makeup are the confines inflicted upon women by the current patriarchy and I felt sort of inspired to just forget about it all, to just be myself un-adorned and un-ashamed... I thought today I'm going to do it. Today is the day. She was so right... TED- talk- speaker- lady. Today I'm just going to be myself without feeling the need to make myself up!!! TADAHHH! I've had my light bulb moment!!!! 

 But then.... I got up, looked in the mirror at the exhausted visage that slightly resembled a terminally ill person and I thought... nope... that is not how I'm going to spend the day. Can't do it. Not going to happen.

I find the yoke of looking like I'm about to die (when in reality I'm not) a far more difficult burden to bear, than the idea that I'm bound and controlled by the throes of patriarchy. 

  Fine. FINE. I'm a by-product of this patriarchy. I've been brain washed to believe that I only look good when the screaming fight I broke up between my youngest kids, the three trips to the bathroom in the night, and the disgusting amounts of dairy I ate the day before aren't all hanging in the bags under my eyes and showing every SECOND of my 33 years.

  And yes, I submit. I bend. I pat those dark circles with foundation. Put on a bit of blush and feel just a little bit better.

  But whatever. I also just LOVE makeup. Sometimes I look up makeup tutorials on Youtube just to see if I can replicate them.  I don't wear a lot every day. I work from home, and my daycare kids don't care.  Frankly, most days its an effort to be found in anything but yoga or sweat pants because really who cares? Definitely not the kids who can't keep their bodily fluids to themselves. Athough every time I wear sweat pants there is a small voice in my head that reminds me of Seinfeld telling George Costanza that wearing sweatpants in public is a sure sign that you've just given up!  

ahahahah. Oh Seinfeld! There is a grain of truth in that me thinks.  But I DIGRESS.

 The truth is every once in a while, I love getting dolled up,  (or looking at the mirror without recoiling in horror).  Whatever that says about it me, it says about me.

I love it.  I even got a super expensive (but amaaaazing) make up palette for Christmas from the hubsters. I wandered into Sephora once on a rare kid-free shopping trip we were embarking upon - just to admire it.  I knew I'd never justifying spending that much on myself and especially on something as impractical as makeup so I just admired it briefly and then walked with determination back out of the store.  And then lo and behold, it was under the tree at Christmas!!! Yaaay.   Brownie points for the hubsters. It inspires me to embrace the patriarchal confines by throwing on and a pair of heels, slapping on the war paint and showing him a good time. :)  Win. Win. in my world.

If that makes a failure as a woman or feminist, for female feminist, so be it! I'll burn my bra and stop shaving my legs when I turn a certain age anyway. I'll bask in my feminist glory then. For now. I love me my makeup. Thank you Urban Decay. I heart you and your amazing products.

# 2 - My 4 year old daughter can sing Rihanna's part in Eminem's "The Monster" song almost word for word.

      Shame fills me even as I write this.  It was so cute to hear her tiny voice singing without hesitation all the lyrics, in perfect tune and pitch.  The hubsters and I just looked at each other with a wry smile.  At the same time it also made me feel like a complete failure as a mother.

      What world have I brought my children into and what kind of mother am I when my 4 year old can sing about being friends with the monsters in her head.  Uggggh.  A horrible, horrible mother who is allowing her children to be seduced and destroyed by popular culture.  I started casting about in my mind for how often we have listened to this song. Only in the car I think... and we're not in the car that often are we?  What have I done?  I'm putting my Hillsong C.D.s on full volume for the rest of the week.

  God forgive me. This is how the fall of society begins. Oh Father, help her not to be the kind of woman who thinks the only way to feel good about herself or be successful is to use her beauty and outward appearance,  or her power as a sexual being to make her way in this world. Help her to know her beauty comes from you and that she is whole and perfect just the way you made her.

This is my neurosis for 2014.  Welcome to my nightmare. Come on in the water is warm.

Maia's Sweet 16 / Camille's baby shower

Confession # 342 :  I moonlight as a Party/ Event planner

(BTW - I am kidding about this being my 342nd confession. I have no idea what # confession I am at and am too tired to look back through this blog to find out! LOL)

Okay, so it's been a whirl wind couple of months. On the heels of my sister's baby shower, and my daughter's 3rd birthday, I was suddenly also planning and hosting my cousin's sweet 16 party and our youth pastor's baby shower.

It's been a crazy month! I've loved it and hated it all at once. Truthfully, I wish I could make a go of it (being a party/ event planner that is) . I'm pretty good at it, and I love doing it, but it's also exhausting and in between taking care of my family and running my 3 kids around to their various activities, and working at 52 + hour work week with my home daycare, I just don't have the time for it.

In order to make any money at it, it would take some real business planning and streamlining before it would be a profitable business, and I'd be re-couping any where near the time and effort it takes to create and execute these events.  So people keep asking me to do them and it's soooo tempting because I love it.
But right now, I'm just about run off my feet trying to do all these things and maintain a family and household.

Okay - another confession. In talking to someone at what I promised my husband would be my LAST event, I sort of somehow got talked into helping out with the decorations for another event. But at least with this one, I'm not planning or hosting the event. I'm just doing some decorations.  That's all.  I just haven't told the DH yet.  He won't be pleased.  But the thought of not having anything to do in the next little while is just painful. :)

So that's it for today. My family has been suffering from the stomach flu and I'm completely sleep deprived, but I'm posting the photos from the last two events that I made the decos for and hosted.
Enjoy!

Maia's Sweet 16 Party:

P.S. On a off - note can anyone reccommend a blog that is a little more user friendly for posting and manipulating photos? This one ROTS. I'm so frustrated with trying, usually half -way through I give up on trying to make it look the way I want it to. I'm willing to switch.... anyone?

Don't judge a book by it's genre

   Over the last couple of years I have noticed a disturbing trend starting in the evaluation of romance novels particularly by Christian publications and authors.

   Many blogs and magazine articles that I have read assert that romance novels for women are akin to pornography for men in their deceptive illusion of fantasy and the indoctrination of unrealistic expectations of members of the opposite sex.

   They argue that while romance novels are seemingly benign they are really just porn for women disguised in locqucious prose and fantasy characters.

  Caveat emptor for any who allow this genre into their home, for it is sure to twist and manipulate the hearts and minds of impressionable women who -will then not only expect their boyfriends and husbands to be broken-hearted cowboys with a soft spot for children and puppies- but will be sorely disappointed when they find their partners wanting. And, if that weren't enough,  romance novels are not only tarnishing the reputations of couch-dwelling, beer-swigging, God fearing, "woman -get -your- rear -back- in -the- kitchen" men everywhere, but it is single-handedly destroying marriages and relationships the world over.

  I'll concede that there is some smut out there under the "romance novel" genre that can absolutely be compared to pornography in it's content, and it's un-realistic and portrayal of both men and women. I would agree that it can be just as degrading and explicit, and should be avoided, BUT  I think that is true of many genres and is certainly not limited to "romance novels."
  As with many things in life that we consume, some are not fit for consumptions and discretion in necessary in any form of media that we expose ourselves to.

   I do however, have an issue with anything/ anyone that slaps generalizations on an entire genre and at the same time treats readers of said genre as if they are completely unable to read fiction without it becoming the basis for their expectations of reality.

  I no more assume that when I am reading romantic fiction - the word FICTION being my first clue that the content might be MADE UP - that the characters are realistic and in turn allow them to shape
my perception of reality.  You know - the reality that is my every day life- which I distinguish from the FICTION stories that I read for leisure.  And if any of you know me and my life - that right there - the LEISURE part would be the first distinction that might help me separate fact from fantasy.

 How shall I conclude... before I step off my soapbox.  Pastors, spiritual leaders, and well intentioned bloggers do critique books and put your opinions out there.  Make suggestions and rational arguments for and against, but don't just judge a book by it's genre.  Don't take one bad example, and label an entire genre of books as to be avoided or worse yet pin it as the downfall of mankind.
Not anymore than Christians as a whole should be judged by the actions of a few select people who choose hate-filled actions to commit in the supposed name of Christianity.

Alrighty - that's it. As you were! 

Stop the Kony madness - it's not all about him

     So this KONY 2012 video, and STOP KONY campaign has gone viral over social media. Everyone's posting, sharing, linking, blogging and talking about it.

http://youtu.be/Y4MnpzG5Sqc

And here's the thing,  amidst both the supporters and critics of the STOP KONY 2012  campaign there are many who are right.  There are also many who are wrong.

I confess, I joined the madness. I watched the video, I cried, and I shared. I posted it on my Facebook newsfeed and encouraged others to do the same, but not without thinking about it first.

Let me start by saying that there are some fundamental issues that I do think were oversimplified or ignored by the Invisible Children's Charity who created the video. And yes, there are some questionable aspects with regard to the details and finances of this particular charity's operation.

I didn't share the video because I thought people should donate money to this charity or join forces with their campaigns.  In fact, I don't agree with their recommended course of action in the video to plaster cities with posters, slogans and paper to "Make Kony famous". (But I'll expand on that later).

And, as I watched the fancy, artsy propaganda flash across my screen I was already wondering... where did the money for all these fancy "action kits" and posters come from ? And couldn't this money have been used for the ones who we should ALSO be focusing on?  Namely - the child soldiers and all those affected by them!

I don't think Kony is all of the problem. He's a small part of it. A small part of a seemingly in-surmountable mountain of problems that stem from larger universal struggles like poverty, lack of education and work opportunies,  government corruption and abuse among others.

Men, women and children are not just forced into joining armed conflict. Some are recruited, some are forced and some volunteer because they don't have any other choice.
For many, it is a means of survival. And this isn't just Uganda or even Africa. It's worldwide epidemic.

 Kony is just the tip of a very large iceberg.

I did share the video because it moved me . It portrayed the struggle and hopelessness of so many children who (either voluntarily or by force) become the victims of armed conflict.  I cried when Jacob (a former child solider of the Lord's Resistance Army in the KONY 2012 video) cried about the loss of his brother, and over his hopelessness.  He didn't want to live, because in his own words, he had no future. He felt loss and devastation, without hope or a future.
And Jacob is one representative of thousands who live in the same darkness.

The KONY 2012 video made me sit up and take notice. It made me aware of an issue that I was only vaguely aware of before,  and it made my heart break for Jacob, and for all of the children who have gone through what he has.

Do I think the main issue is stopping Joseph Kony? No. Absolutely not.  He is but one man. If he is captured, there are still many who could rise up to take his place.

But is that a reason to turn away? Should we then just do nothing? Is it okay to say, this problem is too big so let's just give up?

Some of the other criticisms of the KONY 2012 video, were that the numbers of children recruited by Kony and the LRA were exaggerated, and that Kony has not been a threat to Uganda since some time in 2006.
 Does that make his crimes less heinous? Does that make him less culpable? Should we allow anyone accused of these kinds of crimes off the hook?

Another issue that the video raised that I thought worthy of further consideration, was that the U.S. government didn't want to do anything about issues or problems that didn't directly threaten the national safety or financial security of the nation.
  Isn't that the way we as North American's are so often? If it doesn't directly affect our safety, security or our money then why should we care? Why should we bother spending any time or effort on it?

Likewise, if stopping Kony is not the answer, then why do anything at all.

Well, in defence of  the STOP KONY campaign and the KONY 2012 video, I have to point out that at least the Invisible Children's Charity are trying to do something.
  Can we say to ourselves that we are making efforts to better the lives of people other than ourselves?

The KONY 2012 video, if it did nothing else, raised awareness. This problem is not a new one. But it's got a new face.
We're all talking about it now aren't we? A whole lot more people are aware, than were before.

Truthfully, awareness is only the first step. And too often stories like this have their  15 minutes of fame and then we all go back to our cushy North American lives.

But I don't believe it has to be that way. .It's not that these children are invisible. They are not invisible!!!! It's that we are BLIND. We choose not to see them. We have heard the stories of these atrocities in distant regions but we have chosen not to take note. It didn't directly affect our homes or our wallets so it was by-passed and forgotten.

But we can do better. We can do more.

And here's where my own personal bias and belief system will come into play.

I believe that the first thing we must do is pray.
I believe in the power of prayer, and I believe that none of those children are invisible to God. Those children don't just need the absence of conflict, they need hope.
Hope can come in many forms, but the only one that cannot be destroyed or taken away from them is Jesus.
God is moving in Africa, and we can pray fervently for lives to be changed and hope to be discovered in knowing the love of Jesus. The hope and love found in Jesus can and DOES change people.

And then we need to act. We- who are now aware -and have been moved by the plight of child soldiers and by the atrocities committed by Joseph Kony and many others like him, can do more than hit the share button on our facebook page or the retweet button. We can partner with any number of established and reputable charities and local organizations who have been tackling many of the social, political and economic issues that allow child solider recruitment to be so prevalent in the first place. There are established people and organizations who have been working DDR (demobilization, disarmament and re-integration) programs to help child soldiers and other victims of war , not only to prevent but to recover from armed conflicts. And because they have local partnerships and agencies they are better able to address the needs and concerns of each specific area.

 Many of these organizations such as warchild.ca have core programming that addresses issues like access to education, improving access to justice and reducing poverty while also fostering self-reliance.
   Another great website with information on  how to get involved is Child Soldier International www.child-soldiers.org/get_involved/get_involved.

We can pressure our governments to take notice, and to provide funding, partnership and assistance in helping local governments erradicate the practice of child solider recruitment.

Either way, let's make this more than a fad or trend.  There are so many awful things that you can name that result from social media and the un-warranted exposure of information, but this is one way we can use it for good.  None of those children are invisible to God. And neither are you. Forgive me for waxing poetic, but with God's grace and some work, we can made a difference!

New Year, new babies, new loves

Oh long neglected blog - it's not that I don't love you, it's just that I have loved another more.
These last few months (okay, more than a few months) have been busy, first with Martha Stewarting my way through the holidays and then with caring for my new babies.

    Now before you start spreading unfounded rumours, these are not human babies of my womb (and let me just say that though I love children and babies - thank goodness I am not talking about babies of my womb) .  To which, I must also add : far be it for me to test the God of Abraham and Isaac - who I readily acknowledge  is a God of miracles,  and who in His good and perfect will, allowed Abraham and my namesake to bring forth a human life from 100 and 90 year old bodies respectively- by saying that it could not happen to me. Certainly, I am not beyond having babies in my womb, and I choose not to challenge the will of God, however, I am glad -in this time- that is not the case.
 
    With that lengthy pre-amble and disclaimer- I will confess that I have spent these last few months, conceiving, nuturing and bringing to reality my figurative babies in the forms of my daughter's 3rd birthday party and my sister's baby shower.
 
  Allow me to digress on this small tangent by saying that I am SOOO ecstatic that there is going to be another baby in the family that is not mine! I will enjoy that newborn goodness and still get a good night's rest. I am SO EXCITED!!!!
 
 Now back to the topic at hand. While I realize that this will make me sound certifiable I ask to keep in mind (before you commit me) that boredom combined with the annual January/ February blahs do not sit well with me. They tend to stir up certain depressive and melancholic tendencies in me that don't show my best side.
As such, I determined to drive them away with keeping busy with things that make me happy (well SOME of the things that make me happy). Paper, crafting and dreaming up fabulous parties!!!
 I have determined not only to dream up and host these parties, but to make most if not all of the decorations by hand. This has left me up to my elbows in projects. Paper and glue are taking over the house!
I am in bliss!
Granted,I have taken on a lot. But I have found that I am the kind of person who does better when busy. Pull your hair out, exhausted by the end of the day busy... so alas. Here I am.
Tomorrow, I will post some pictures and give you all a sneak preview of what is to come.
Call me crazy but I cannot be idle. In between planning Sunday school lessons, and my highschool girl's biblestudy HOUSEgroup sessions, running my home daycare as well as  living life in general with my 3 kidlets and a very patient and tolerant husband - I have taken on these mountainous (is that a word.... I don't think it's a word... ) projects!!!
 It might also be important to note that these parties happen with a week of each other during March, at which time my mother-in-law will also be staying with us while we try to find her a permanent residence here in Ontario for the first time in 14 years.
 If I'm not dead by then, I'll be sure to put up pictures of my triumphs or very great defeats.

Hopefully, I can also find time to write less verbose and more linear threads of thought in this blog at a more decent hour.
So long for now, fellow bloggers, readers and one follower.  (Come on people, if you read this become a follower already, pump my ego up a little bit) :)
Crazy, tired, happy, paper decorations lady - signing off.

Dear Lord, thank you for cupcakes

The world is quiet and still, covered in the cool darkness that has yet to make way for a new day. The blanket of air hangs low and moist.
With a sweet trill a symphony of birds awakens the dawn.
The grass is wet with dew soaking lightly into my shoes as I turn my face up to the warm sunshine.
 Dear Lord, thank you for silence.

A raucous commotion of small voices reaches me as each running step brings me closer to home.
Panting, trying to catch my breath two of my children compete to be heard.
A few shouts of dolls verses car and something to do with a card become a distant din as I push past
them into the small space we call home.
A tug of war ensues, ending with a victor and some tears.
Crying, red eyes bring me into the present.

Dear Lord, give me patience.

The house becomes like a hive with small bodies multiplying by the minute.
More arrivals, 6 bowls of cereal, milk on the floor, school lunches and homework fly about in a flurry.
Shouts, pouting and a epic battle about wearing a jacket.
One pep talk, one stern reprimand, one angry face and one reluctantly worn jacket.
A knock on the window to warn that I can see the jacket being stuffed into a bag.
Stomping steps off to school that I hope will stop, look and listen before they meet traffic.

Dear Lord,  help her understand.

Bottles, blankets, stenches, diapers, nap times, crying, crafts and colouring.
Accidents, bath times, carpet cleaning, phone ringing and ringing, waking children.
Clenched teeth saying, no not interested, cranky crying and lack of napping.
Cold, late lunch scarfed down quickly.
Toys like a contagion, sharp on my heel.

Dear Lord, get me through this day.

Homework, fighting, absolutely no television, cleaning messes, prepping dinner.
Crash course in math, chicken burning.
No more juice or snack or belly-aching.
Laundry stacked up to the ceiling.
Getting ready for each lesson. Pack the bags, and get them ready.
Set the table, salvage dinner.

Dear Lord, give me strength.


One small head cries it's my turn.
Replacement prayer for God is great, Amen becomes
 two minutes of 2 1/2 year old gratitude for parties, and sisters and cupcakes and people and most of all especially Lord for cupcakes, a few more mumbled phrases.
Laughter bubbling. Prayer's not over. More and more about those cupcakes.
Everyone looks up with laughter in their eyes, and enthusiastic amens.

Dear Lord, you give good gifts.

The sky is awash in brilliant colours as the sun dips below the horizon.
Warm water cascades over my skin as I wash and quietly ponder.
I store the left- overs in our full fridge which reminds me of my full belly.
I can hear the absence of conflict, the quiet steady rhythm of children mouth breathing happily in front
 of the television.
There are bath times, stories, a few quiet giggles and the
Warm arms wrap around my neck and squeeze with love.
I inhale deeply that scent of freshly washed cherub.
Quiet steals over the house as I take one last look at the peaceful, sleeping, even breathing of my angels.
I am blessed with abundance. My cup runneth over.

Dear Lord, help me to remember that you have given me so much.

I sink down on the couch, soft and inviting.
The crisp evening air is wafting in through the window as a pleasant breeze.
Crickets chirp happily in the protection of my flower garden.
The quiet hum of a lawn mower nearby signals the end of another day.
 I hold a rainbow sprinkle encrusted, icing laden confection.

Dear Lord, most of all thank you for cupcakes.

Boys will be boys!

In keeping with all the other men in my life, my son Aiden  also shares the "abhhors-shopping gene".  3 pairs of pants into a back to school shopping trip and he was whining "I'm really tired!"
Seriously? 3 pairs of pants and he's "exhausted."  And the thing is he looked exhausted. He looked like I'd kept him up all night and then asked him to run a marathon. After trying on 3 pairs of pants!  Which I was doing most of the work for!! All he had to do was lift his legs!!!!

 He of course inherited this from his father without the benefit of the sage wisdom learned from years of experience. This wisdom being that if it can't be avoided the next best course of action is saunter silently - albeit sulkily- nearby.

My concession is that I power shop.  I selected, dressed, sifted, re-hangered and purchased 5 pairs of pants in 30 minutes.  We all suffered but only briefly.

There aren't too many boys in my immediate family that I have been able to observe growing up, and so many of the things that I'm learning are "typical growing boy" behaviour continually astonish me.
His appetite for one thing.  When he is eating something that he likes he can easily clear 4 helpings. And yet - he's skinny as a beanpole. Just dense. Our grocery bills are growing exponentially in direct correlation to his appetite and he's only 5!

He wants to hit, kick and punch everything, and not just when he's angry. It's his default reaction to everything. Happiness, excitement, fear, anger, sadness.  I cringe to think of the day when he's a teenager and I am trying to discipline him while he towers over me and probably outweighs me twice over.  We might need to invest in a punching bag sooner than later.

His obsession with kinex, lego, building blocks, sticks, rocks, cars, action figures, and pretty much little pieces of anything.  He has one of the aforementioned in his hands at all times!!!
All the time. If we didn't take them away he'd shower and sleep with them.  I just don't get it.

Ahhh, but my little man with his dimples and baby blues. I cannot imagine my life without him. Screaming drop kicks, 4 bowls of cereal and all.  He's my little charmer.

People who have experience raising boys just smile and shake their heads when I express my shock, confusion and wonder.  "Boys will be boys." as the expression goes.

I'm learning, and looking forward to many more.

Years that is . Not boys. Please no more boys. One is perfect!