Potty training is never fun, however sometimes it's funny.
To aid in keeping the wee child occupied while sitting waiting for "the big poop" to appear or for him to "put the pee-pee in the potty" our bathroom has become a bit of an entertainment centre. There is a stack of books on the back of the toilet. There is a bucket full of rolls of dollar store stickers. My bathroom wall/cabinet/floor/toilet are dotted with stickers. There is a duck shaped flashlight on the vanity that Xander will shine on various things and name them as he sits doing his business. (Kind of a more high tech game of I Spy)
The other day he got off the potty to get a new book from the back of the toilet. In doing so, he knocked some stickers onto the floor between the toilet and tub. Xander goes around to the far side of the toilet and crouches to get the stickers - his bare butt sticks up in the air as he lowers his head towards the floor.
He immediately stands up and runs towards me, excitedly yelling, "Flashlight, Granny! Flashlight Granny!"
Thinking it's kinda dark between the toilet and tub and he can't see his stickers, I hand him his duck flashlight. He immediately shines it on his penis, which he had discovered hanging there when he bent over, and proudly says to me, "My winky, Granny! My winky!"
We'd never been on a tropical vacation before. I've always secretly blamed this on my husband who has always preferred to drive wherever we go, doesn't love water and can't handle too hot of weather. But truth be told, while I knew we would enjoy such a vacation, I didn't feel like we were missing out - I also am not a water baby, and while I can't stand being cold, don't really like excessive heat neither. But I do love the ocean. I always have. And I was certainly willing to test out a tropical vacay to see what all the hype was about.
Brandi and Kore, on the other hand are travellers. They love to vacation and see the world. And three-year-old Beatrice has more stamps on her passport than I do. But with the whole zika virus issues, being pregnant kept them pretty grounded over the past year. And months before Daphne was even born, a trip to Maui evolved.
Travelling with a toddler is one thing. And travelling with a newborn is another. But travelling wit…
I love my job. I really do. I am an art facilitator. At least that is the title I have come up with for myself as the leader of watercolour wine and paint nights. Not many people can say they created their own job from their hobby, and even fewer can say they go to work, drink wine, party with 5-18 fun loving women (and men) and come home with a pocket full of cash. And all this while picking and choosing which days you do and do not work. I am blessed, this I know. And I am grateful.
Being that autumn is in full swing, this large leaf is a painting I have guided about 30 to 40 people through creating recently. And in every group there are at least one, two or more people who start to stress about the way their colours are blending. Or not blending, whatever the case.
I always start by saying, "If you are frustrated with your painting, have another glass of wine." That usually works. But there are always a few people who need a little more encouragement to let loose.
December 6, 2016. The day a piece of my heart was ripped out.
But rather than mourn and hate the day that I lost my best friend, I choose rather to reflect upon the blessing it was to journey together through the years.
As a means of reminiscing and counting my blessings I put photos to the memories I shared at Barbee's Celebration of Life.
BFF. It’s a term invented by adolescent girls indicating that someone
was their Best Friend Forever. Barbee and I were BFF’s. And although we
sometimes joked it meant Big Fat Friends, we always knew we were best friends
forever. I know we are sisters-in-law but I have always thought of her first as my best
friend. When one thinks about best friends you tend to think of two people who
have everything, or at least much, in common. Not Barbee and I. We were actually
weirdly opposites in so many ways. Barbee had musical talent. She loved to play the mandolin, and Albert
has always said she has such a pure singing voice. I don’t even know what a “pu…