My Mama Loves, She Loves Me She Gets Down On Her Knees And Hugs Me She Loves Me Like A Rock She Rocks Me Like The Rock Of Ages

*** UPDATE *** I’ve linked my Instagram for pictures. Relevant to the post 😁****

Totally not the topic of my post but I’m at Starbucks writing this morning, since I’m meeting with a friend. Normally when I come and write here, I order my drink in a porcelain cup, you know to save the environment and not use a plastic cup and lid. So I order as per usual, and the barista says they aren’t serving in to-stay cups because of the corona virus. Like what? How will me not a WASHABLE MUG, that should be sanitized thoroughly with hot water and soap be helpful? Sure you don’t want to touch my germs (that I don’t have, since I’m not carrying the virus), but I would place the mug in a wash bucket/bin for you and you use gloves to put it in the dishwasher…. I truly fail to see the benefit of not serving drinks in them during this time other than adding to our pollution.

However, lol. That’s not the point of my blog today. Just a thought I have while writing. Another thought, was I figured out how to edit/make new paragraphs on Little E’s IPad, so I’m moving up in the world. Lol. What’s actually on my mind today, is the facts that we as a family went to the dentist a little while ago. While we were there the hygienist, who is of Asian decent (not normally a factor but plays into the story in a minor way, as a minority in our town plus with her accent) made a comment to me. She’s a very kind woman, maybe late twenties, early thirties with no kids of her own. We’ve been to the dentist a couple times now since moving so we’ve been chatting a bit, I mean as much as you can while your mouth is stuck open while your teeth are being cleaned. So this time, as I was on my way out she said, word for word as it made such and impact on me: “So you adopted your two kids” With such a sweet smile and an air of, oh what a kind thing I’d done to adopt two siblings of colour who must have been from a foreign country and probably are so much better off with me. I must be such a good lady, to have saved them from whatever war zone or something like that. Like I’d rescued them. That sort of tone/look on her face. So I figured if she was going to push the boundaries and make such a statement that was so inconsiderate, and thoughtless, then well… 🤯 I responded with: “No, they’re mine, I grew them in my belly and pushed them out my own vagina. Thanks for asking.” She was so red, rightfully so. And rushed to say it was because they don’t look like me. Ok. Ok, ok okaaaay. I know my kids aren’t like spitting images of me. But that doesn’t mean I don’t deserve to be considered or thought of as much their mom as other parents who are moms and dads of kids who aren’t mixed race, or look more similar to their children. Or that obtuse people can judge my kids heritage and make them feel like they don’t belong. In fact, I may be more involved in my kids lives than many other parents who look more like their kids than I do. Looking the same as someone doesn’t automatically make you more a parental figure than me. Parenting takes time and effort. It takes imparting wisdom and listening to their deepest fears and helping the kids work through them. It takes years of hard work, trying to figure out how to pay for extra curricular activities on a single mom budget and nights crying alone in bed worrying about their future. It takes hours praying for them, hoping they will make good choices for their own lives, while knowing you can’t protect them from everything, but wishing you could. It takes prepping three meals a day, seven days a week and about a zillion snacks for years, which I’m sure continues even after they move out. It takes holding your tongue when they bring home friends you don’t agree with, then having conversations with them later about being an influential figure not the one influenced. It’s about wiping tears and giving hugs even if your hurting to. It’s about helping with homework even if they teach math stupidly now. It’s about 7:00 am Saturday morning hockey games and Sunday afternoon dance recitals. It’s about showing them love and connection. Its about teaching personal hygiene and sexual education and loving others as well as personal boundaries. It’s helping little humans self discover who they are and teaching them it’s ok to change, or not know. It’s explaining to them when to say sorry, and when to stand your ground. It’s helping them learn about emotion and safe ways to express them. It’s about creating a home environment where they feel safe to come home to when nowhere else in the world is listening to them. The list goes on, and for me, it’s about doing it all by myself. So, yes these are my biological kids, but I think being a parent can be for anyone who has consistently put in that effort, time and love into a child who needs it. So was I offended when the hygienist said that? Not so much offended as shocked. I just figured that in this day in age people wouldn’t be out making statements about others life’s so blatantly, without and background information or invite. Do I blame here for thinking that? Not necessarily, since she’s not far from the truth. My kids and I don’t look a ton alike. What I would do though, is caution her from making those comments so haphazardly in the future again. Other individuals may not take her tactless comments so lightly. I am basically the only parent my children have known, and I will teach them that looks now, and in the future will never matter. Because it is 100% on the inside what matters. -Loves Me Like A Rock/Paul Simon-

We Don’t Fit In Well Cause We Are Just Ourselves / You Look Stunning Dear

Z has her first crush and it is adorable. It’s one of Little E’s basketball teammates and friends from school named Tyson. He’s a very friendly boy and when he’s over to play they include Z which she obviously loves. Over the weekend she had told me that she only likes two boys, Little E and Tyson and I said that’s fine you don’t have to like all the boys, as long as you are kind to them. But last night at basketball practice I saw her crush in action for the first time and realized it was more than just an ‘I like him the way I like my brother’

It was a quick water break and Tyson came to grab his water bottle from beside where we were sitting, which I should note that Z had brought for him since he had forgotten it at school, so she made sure to save it for him and brought it full of fresh water to practice. Anyways, Tyson comes to grab a drink and Z says hi Tyson with the slight giggle and smile and all the innocence of a 6 year old girl crushing on a 9 year old boy with me sitting right there. And Tyson being the wonderful kid he is says hi Z and has his drink with a smile. Then she kinda giggles and looks back at me. Then Tyson calls her name again and we both look and he’s making a silly face at her which she loves (oh kids) and he runs back on to the court.

I thought it was the most adorable things ever to see the whole interaction. How sweet and innocent and friendly they both were. Tyson’s a great kid. He’s also the boy who after dinner at our house announced he was excited to go through puberty one day (I can’t remember if I blogged about that or just texted his mom laughing so hard about it) he’s an only child but well rounded and a good friend to Little E and apparently Z too.

I’m looking forward to what this grows into.

When his mom showed up to pick him up for practice we chatted for a bit and I mentioned that Z had a little crush. Her response surprised me. His mom and I have become acquaintances throughout this school year and she’s been over for coffee a couple times but it takes time to really know a person right? So when she said ‘Oh that’s ok, I’d be cool with a little colour in the bloodline’ or something along those lines. I was completely thrown off. She went on about how their pale Scottish skin could use some colour etc but I wasn’t really listening at that point anymore.

I guess it didn’t occur to me that my kids would face this kind of racism in their life. Subtle. But extremely there. Words that don’t need to be said and can be hurtful.

All it is, is a harmless crush between kids. There was no need to bring melanin into it. And to have that be your first reaction must mean it’s near the forefront of your thoughts. As opposed to the innocence and beauty of the relationship forming, your thoughts jumped to colour. I dunno. Not the best foot to put forward in my opinion.

So. I just felt it was the cutest moment on the kids part I wanted to share. And hope that as they grow older they learn healthy ways of interacting with each other. That help each other grow into beautiful human beings. Weather they end up together or not.


-Beautiful People/Ed Sheeran-

It’s My Birthday Song, In My Happy World I Know It’s Gonna Be A Good Day Oh Yeah, Today Is My Birthday

I’m 32.

My birthday this year was what I’m assuming everything I should expect for my life from here on out. It was last Sunday, and I decided instead of wallow around at home for the day, I’d get out of the house and just basically try and forget I’m gonna be old and wrinkly and grey and alone soon.

I took the kids out to Denny’s (SUPER fancy I know) but I got breakfast for free and I’m trying to maintain a strict budget so this way we still had a nice sit down breakfast that I didn’t have to make and I didn’t have to clean up after. So to me, nowadays, that’s fancy. I should mention while we’re on the topic of fancy, Little E dressed up for me. He is a strict sweatpants and sports shirt kinda boy. Athletic wear all the way. So when I told them we were going out for breakfast for my birthday he pulled up in his one pair of jeans I make him keep in the depts of his drawers in case of like a funeral or something, and a collared dress shirt. I guess I’m raising him right after all. Z wears dresses 24/7 so it was just nice that she brushed her teeth for the ‘occasion’.

I came out of the bathroom after doing my makeup (for once) because if there’s any day to feel extra beautiful, I guess 32 years old is the day and the kids had made me little homemade cards ♥️. Adorable hey?

So anyway on the way to breakfast we stopped at one of the wineries that we live beside and took a few pictures because 1) it’s my birthday 2) who knows when I’d see Little E looking so sharp and it needed to be documented. Then off to breakfast.

Afterward we wandered the mall for a bit, I obviously got my free Starbucks to enjoy and we just browsed like 16 year old VSCO girls. While we were at the mall my oldest friend S called to wish me a happy birthday. S and I haven’t been tight during our adult life since our respective lives have taken us on our own paths but we’ve known each other since we were in grade 4, and we always come back to each other. It’s those friends that you have that no matter what, you can just pick up where you left off, trust levels the same, bonds not broken, you just know that yep your good for life no matter what shit happens. That’s S and I. And it’s so unlikely if you were to look at us, or even our lives. I’m a towering 5’10 overweight white girl and S is barely 5 foot and comes from a strict Asian home and has obtained a Masters Degree. She travels the world with both her family and her partner, and just basically…. is so different than me in every way. Which is great because then we at least have stories to share when get back together, it not the same stuff we’re struggling with, we have different experiences and view points, yet maintain respect for each other. Anyways chatting with her was good.

My little sister also called and I sang the itsy bitsy spider for my niece in the mall, which has become her billboard #1. My parents did FaceTime and I was expecting my dad at least to sing happy birthday as is was his tradition every year, so when I saw the name pop up on the phone I braced myself to be put through the song, but for some reason this year there was no song. He used to even call me in Kenya to sing, but this year no song. I guess 32 is finally the year when you’re to old to have your parents sing happy birthday to you. 👎🏼

My co-workers all forgot about my birthday which was fine and disappointing at the same time. I know that doesn’t make sense, but on one hand, you want to at least be acknowledged, but you don’t wanna stand there awkwardly while they sing to you. So fine/disappointing.

Anyways I guess the main point of this post is….

I’m 32. And I managed to not cry on my birthday. I realized that I’m going to have birthdays and get older weather certain people acknowledge it or not. I understand it is possible to have a birthday pass, a “celebration” of a year of my life, without receiving a single gift or intimate hug or a bite of cake. Those things don’t stop the passage of time. So I can just choose to age gracefully and with dignity based on the choices I’ve made in my own life, not on how others have chosen to pour into my life, or chosen to remain absent. Either way, I’m getting older. And as they say, age is just a number. You don’t become a year older in a day. It’s the whole years worth of experiences and wisdom and time that got you there.

It’s how much you value it that is most important, although just one gift would’ve made it a little more special, not gonna lie.


-Madonna/B-Day Song-

I Got Boy Problems That’s The Human In Me / Don’t Text Me, Tell It Straight To My Face

Yesterday out of the blue E sent a text to see how the kids are and to ask me to say hi to them. They haven’t really talked much in months, and the last time they saw him was at Christmas.

By now, I thought I was over E. and as far as our relationship goes, I am. But when I got that text, I was bothered. And I was even more annoyed at myself by the fact that I was bothered by him. Maybe it was the wording of his text, and maybe it was just my mood even before I received it, but it irked me. Basically My reply was a curt, the kids are good.

Because they are always good. I make sure of that. Because I’m here every day raising them. I don’t check in every 6 months to see how they are. I’m their mother 24/7/365. And so I was frustrated. But in the sake of good parenting, I did pass the message along to the kids and asked if they’d like to either call or message back. Little E opted for the text, and wrote out a little message about what he’s been up to lately and hit send. Then Z dictated to Little E a note for him to type. And that’s when my annoyance built up enough for me to vent here.

Her note was as innocent as any 5 year old who’s going about messaging their father could be. Hi Daddy. I love you. Etc…

I could’ve stabbed E with all the anger I felt in that moment. Here I’ve been, for the last 5 and a half years, taking care of these kids without him, and in one text, he swoops in and receives the same type of gratitude I get on a daily basis. No I’m not frustrated at Z, in all her innocence she’s just acting out how she’s seen other kids be with their dads. And she assumes you say I love you. And that’s not wrong, but in those circumstances there’s years of trust built up. There’s time put in. There’s sleepless nights attached. There’s financial stress involved. There’s fear of loss attached. All the aspects to create what I think deserves at least the start of love.

But she gives it with wreak less abandonment to a man who doesn’t understand the pain he’s caused.

I’m not upset at Z. On one hand I think it’s brave of Z to support E with love that cannot be returned and want to let her make her own choices. But on the other hand I want to caution her on attempting to set sail on a sinking ship. I don’t want to set her on a path where she feels her love is unreturned and therefore somehow not good enough.

For now though, I’m just going to take a day of two to cool off my irrational anger towards E for receiving what in my opinion is undeserving love and I’ll come back to this at a later time.

– Lizzo / Truth Hurts –

Eventually If It Was Meant To Be, Then It Would Be ‘Cause We Related, Physically And Mentally / Boy, I Tell You, I Miss Her

Today I had another honest conversation with my kids. I asked them how they would feel if they never had a ‘dad’. Like if we just always remained a family of three. How pretty much they’ve always known it.

I told them I’ve come to the realization that for myself, men cause me a distraction, (because it’s something I so deeply want) and then disappointment or hurt when left unfulfilled and that I’m learning to teach myself I can be ok and even whole on my own. Yes, it’s been a painful journey, one I’m hoping not to stumble on over and over again, but to teach my kids that they don’t need to find satisfaction and fulfillment within another individual.

But, on the other hand, I want to make sure my kids would not feel like they are missing out by having that experience of a dad in their life. I told them (especially Little E) if there were situations they were going through that I didn’t have the answers to from my life experience (or google) we could ask my dad or I have two brothers-in-law that would be great for advice of that type.

Little E was honestly completely fine with it. He said I do a good job (aww) as a mom and he was not bothered by my question or suggestion that I would just remain single from here on out. Z wasn’t really sure, although she’s not quite 6 so I don’t think she understood the whole situation. I reassured her that I’ve been taking care of her and her brother on my own since she was 6 months old so nothings changing other than the fact we’re talking about it. All I’m suggesting is that we would stay that way, as a family of three, and I focus on them. Would that be good for them? Or make them feel really uncomfortable at Fathers Day when the daycare does a party for dads or at the father daughter dance at dance class etc. Little E was still completely A OK about it and once Z understood that I was just checking that she was ok that that things stayed the same, she was fine. Little E made a comment on how it would be more weird and how things would have to change if they DID get a dad since they’ve never really had one, and I agreed with him.

I explained that he can rest easy that I won’t ever bring anyone into their lives who would cause hurt or that would turn around and walk away. (FYI, My kids have never even seen any of the guys I’ve been with let alone meet them and get attached, apart from K and that was after a long time… I won’t do that again) That pain is just unnecessary, and so I’ll do my best to protect them from it at all costs. And this will cost me a lot.

Which is why I’m good with just being me.

Just C. Raising her two kids. I’ve done well on my own the last 5 years. I don’t see why I can’t repeat that another 3 times.

-Common/I Used To Love H.E.R.-

Welcome To Existence Everyone’s Here / Everybody’s Watching You Now Everybody Waits For You Now What Happens Next?

Today an ad popped up on my Instagram about preparing wills.

This is something I have been purposefully avoiding my entire life.

Not because I’m afraid to die because of death and all that jazz, but because in my will, I will undoubtedly have to name a Guardian for my kids. And I have no one who I would name. At this point in my life there is not a single person or couple that I would want my kids to be raised by other than with me.

My parents are out of the question for many reasons, part being the strained relationship my mother and I currently have. But also, they’re old. I want my kids to have a fun fulfilling life and my parents don’t have it in them to be sitting at soccer practice once a week and dance recitals/school plays all the time. They’ve done the discipline thing (horribly) and I don’t want them (my parents or kids) to go through that ordeal. They are just not the right fit. Sure they’re fine for a visit here and there and I trust my kids with them for like a sleepover, maybe even a weekend or something although that’s never happened, but anything longer would just be to much of them. And I know what to much of them turns into. Been there done that got the postcard and all the bills from therapy type situation.

My older sister R has 4 daughters of her own and as much as I’m sure Z would love being surrounded by sisters (or hate having less attention focused on her) I would feel uncomfortable for Little E being put in a situation like that. Plus they are super strict and highly religious and I’m just not on the same page regarding their beliefs about god or many other things in life, and therefore wouldn’t want that for my two children.

My younger sister N just had her first child last summer. I will admit it has changed her attitude towards life for the better in my opinion. It’s not so much all about her anymore which is nice to see, but the way her and her husband D live is just chaotic. They both love my kids but they have no sense of organization or discipline and they struggle so much with finances that I just can’t add this kind of thing to their life. It would be a lose/lose situation for everyone.

And that’s it. Those were my choices. I thankfully have sole custody of my kids, and they are OBVIOUSLY not going back to E. But I have no friends that are close enough to even consider for the possibility. And you can’t prepare a will without having that plan ready to go to put into the will. Like what am I going to do? Write a will but say ‘ oh I’m not a responsible enough person to have decided who my kids are going to live with so just either let my family decide or make them wards of the state’? Cause that’s basically what I’d be doing so what’s the point.

You can’t name someone Guardian in your will, without discussing it with them first. Like at least make sure they’d be willing and able to do it. I have no one to have that discussion with. I live my life independently from everyone, which as a result has ironically enough left me independent from everyone. So now, I have these two precious children to care for, and I do care for them. So much that right now in my opinion, no one else is good enough to care for them if/when I die. So I have to just not die until they’re old enough to care for themselves. Oh but C you say, what about accidents? What if you get run over by a car tomorrow?

DUH!!!!! So now you see my motherfucking problem. I have to make a will! I have to pay off my debts. I have to plan for them. Z still has 12 more years to go until she’s 18. 12 more years. I’ve only been a parent for 8.5 but I’ve made it this far. First I had to get through the divorce. Now, it’s time for me to actually start looking ahead. Planning for the future. Something I haven’t ever really done before. Everything was just get me through this day, this week, this marriage, this divorce. And now? Well now I need to be able to say get not only me through this life, but my kids through theirs.

So I’ve got to start planning ahead. But how do I plan another parent for my children? Seems like trying to get the past and the future to merge as one. I already picked a dad when I made them, and that didn’t work out well as we all know. As you can see I’m quite hesitant to try again. I don’t want to utterly fail my kids in the parenting department twice… or more.

So needless to say I won’t be writing a will anytime soon.

As dumb as it seems, it seems more logical than wasting time and money on preparing a will when I don’t know what it should say.

-Switchfoot/Dare You To Move-

I Wake Up In The Basement I’m So Hungry/ I Must Be Here Sleepwalking

How to explain the unexplainable.

Sunday night I made homemade spaghetti and meatballs with ceaser salad for dinner and the kids loved it. Everything was all good. So I decided to send the leftovers with them to daycare for lunch the next day. I asked Z to get out 2 containers for me to divide it up for them. She made a big deal about her getting the green lid one and Little E said he wanted the green one too, leaving the blue lid unclaimed (seems like a stupid detail but just wait). I ignored them hoping they would forget about it by the morning, a pick your battle kinda situation and just closed them up and made my salad in my own Tupperware, with a red lid for anyone keeping track. Then I stacked all three in the fridge, thinking nothing more about it.

Skip forward to Monday morning when I tell Little E to get their lunches ready and he says there’s only one spaghetti container in the fridge. I yell from the bathroom to look harder KNOWING I just put it in there last night, three Tupperware one on top of the other. You can’t miss it. A minute later he calls back saying it’s not there.

So I’m thinking he’s just being lazy and not seeing something that’s surely right in front of his nose, and I stomp off to the kitchen prepared to whip the door open and prove him wrong and find the green lidded container that had most likely dropped behind something and go one with our day. I open the fridge. I look. I can’t find it. I LOOOOOOK hard. It’s not there. I look in the freezer. It’s not there. I check kitchen cabinets. Nope. I look in the damn garbage. Nothing. I call Z thinking she might’ve possibly hid it in some secret place to ensure she got the green top. She has no clue. I might’ve gone over board on my interrogation techniques, because seriously wtf could it have gone, but I could tell both the kids had no clue, and as a mom you know if your kid is lying. So I let it go as far as them lying went.

Then, since I was running out of options I even went so far as to check to make sure all the outer doors to our house were locked (lol I know) to make sure no one came into our house in the middle of the night and indulged on my fantastic spaghetti and then left leaving everything else untouched. Locked, obviously. So now I’m left with sleep walking/eating? And I’m like 100% sure it’s not my kids since I hear when they get outta bed to use the washroom. Little E is in a metal bunk bed that makes hella noise when he moves let alone gets in and out. And Z just doesn’t understand how to open a door quietly. So was it me? Like honestly did I eat or hide this stupid container? I’m not sure about anything anymore.

So I give Little E my salad since we’re running out of time and I have to get to work. When we got home I started a mass hunt for this thing. I looked through the fridge thoroughly again, under couch cushions and beds. Double-checked all the cupboards and drawers. Backpacks and purses. Everywhere and anywhere I thought of I searched and I can’t find the stupid Tupperware. And I know I used it because it’s not in the cupboard clean. It’s not in the dishwasher. I remember the kids fighting over it.

So we have some proverbial fairy stealing pasta making me go crazy. But I honestly have no idea what happened to it, and I don’t want to find it in a week or two based on the rotting smell coming out of somewhere.

And if someone in my house IS sleep walking? Well that’s just a whole other level of stress I don’t have patience for.

– Alice Cooper / The Awakening –