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-

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If You Find There The Meaning Of What Happiness Is Then A New Life Will Begin

I got a cat.

If you knew me before, you’d think wtf C. You hate animals. Which is exactly what my older sisters response was when I posted about him on Instagram. But the thing is, people can change. People can grow. People can realize that maybe the circumstances under which they were living their lives previously were not ones which they chose themselves. So people can evolve to recreate their own more suitable environment in which they will thrive.

Me. I’m people.

And in this case I was at the point of such loneliness that I decided that I would overcome my fear of animals, yes I said fear, and adopt a cat. You see by this point in my life, every circumstance and previous interaction had built up not only a dislike of cats and dogs, but a small fear. They bite. They scratch. They were just an overall nuisance in my mind.  And to be honest they would mess up my very organized life. Potential poop everywhere. Extra expense. Hair. The list could on and on. Not to mention the most important fact being, I am supposedly allergic to fur and feathers. At least I was back in the day.  This was of course found out at a young age when I went for a horseback ride at my great-uncles farm for 0.02 seconds and had to be pulled off the horse and thrown in the shower to wash off the horse hair as my mom called the ambulance. The result are hazy to me since I remember mostly not breathing, and flaring up like the GOODYEAR blimp as far as the rash went. But after a series of allergy tests soon after, it was determined that animals were not in my future thanks to allergies to fur and feathers and the dander found in them. So we said goodbye to the cat and bird we currently had and miraculously my life long eczema I’d been living with started to get better. Yeah… you’d think my parents would’ve considered that possibility sooner.

Anyways, that’s probably another reason I don’t really like animals. We’ve been enemies so to speak from the start.

But here I am. Almost 32 years old and finding out that yep. I want to add another dimension to my life. So I haven’t had an allergic reaction in a long time. A bunch of my friends have dogs and I’m at their houses all the time. Granted I’m not letting the dogs lick my face or anything (ew on so many levels) but I’m not ending up at the hospital in any case. We house sat for our friends a while back while they went to Zambia and they had the 3 cats. We fed them and did the poop duty, and I was fine. So I’ve come to think at this point in my life I’m pretty sure I can’t use the allergy excuse anymore. I’m thinking I’ve outgrown it.

So, since I’ve moved to Kelowna, I’ve been considering a pet. I know at this point in our life we don’t have the time to invest in a dog. The walking everyday and all that. The kids are in school and I’m at work and I’m NOT willing to have accidents in the house from a puppy. So I’ve been browsing the SPCA site every once in while, just to see what was there, but not telling the kids. Then last week I saw him. His name was Baxter, and he is a 14 years old domestic long haired (I may or may not have choose him based on how well he would match my house, I’ll never tell). Yes, that’s old for a cat. Which I’m fine with. I’m not ready to make a 15+ year commitment to something if I don’t even know weather or not I like being a cat mama yet. The day I saw him I went to the shelter for the first time in my adult life with the sole purpose to pet a cat. He was super chill and laid there and let me stroke him. I’ll be honest, I was probably more scared of him than he was of me, just based on…. well nothing at all. I just was. Because of my body’s past reactions to animals. Because of avoiding them in the past. Because of the potential of getting scratched or bit or anything.  Just because I let fear grow over time with my avoidance.

But I put my big girl pants on and filled out the paperwork and took him home that day anyway.

I picked up the kids from daycare and we went to the local pet store to get all the supplies we needed, which was everything since this was unplanned, and went home.

We have renamed him and thankfully our naming skills have greatly improved since fish one and fish two. We finally settled on Benjamin Maxwell (insert our last name here) the Fourth. Or Benji for short.

He spent the first day in my bathroom since after my extensive Google research I found they need their own space after a move and to calm their nerves. The kids were disappointed that he didn’t want to play with them right away. Oh who am I kidding, they were disappointed I didn’t get a dog. Little E even went so far as to mention that I made a big decision without a family meeting first (fair point, but too bad), but he was happy with the result.

How do I feel now? A week into it?

The first little bit was rough I’ll be honest. After the first night I let him out of the bathroom obviously, and he made his way straight under my bed where he’s spent most of his days since. His nights? OMG. At first, he would just go eat, drink and poop then head back under the bed. So I would wake up to every sound he made since I’m a very light sleeper and he would pause his eating or drinking if I woke up and we would both freeze. I didn’t want to disturb him and he… well I couldn’t tell you what he was thinking. But after a few minutes he would continue. This would happen ALL throughout the night. So needless to say I didn’t sleep very well for the first 2-3 nights.

He also would avoid the kids at all costs. Which was sad since all they want to do is play with him. But slowly he’s coming around and now the last few nights he’s been up on bed throughout the night meowing at me to pet him and letting me brush him and purring non-stop.

Last night he FINALLY let the kids both pet him for a bit while I was reading to them. We started reading the Chronicles of Narnia as a family and Benjamin decided to join us. I promise you it made Z’s week.

So, yes. I’m glad we got him. He’s a very calm and quite cat. There’s been no scratching or biting. No poop where there shouldn’t be. Yes there’s a ton of hair everywhere, but he’s worth it. Because as I sat in bed last night with him snuggled up to me, I realized this unfortunate thought.

This is the most simple and long-standing, healthiest relationship I’ve ever had with a male. He has met more of my needs than any man ever has over the course of seven day without draining anything from me in the process.  He hasn’t requested anything from me. He hadn’t left me feeling like shit. He hasn’t frustrated me. He’s made me smile. He’s given me affection. He’s kept me warm at night.

I needed this a long time ago, so I’m glad I got over my fears and did this for myself. Now I’m one less lonely girl.


-CATS/The Moments Of Happiness-

There’s No Way I Can Save You ‘Cause I Need To Be Saved Too

Today I found myself sitting on a pile of darks while the white’s spun around in the washing machine.

Never in my life have I seemed so pathetic to even myself. Sinking down into a pile of dirty laundry filled with Little E’s sweaty soccer uniform and dirty towels that I’ve used to squirt all over while masturbating and sandy bathing suits mixed with the kids clothes covered in art supplies and grass stains. All just to try and have a few minutes of peace and quiet to myself.

So I closed the door as quietly as possible and sat on the pile as I watched the washer start to do it’s thing. I could hear the kids playing hide and seek and I tried to just focus on relaxing. Something I’m not good at.

Whenever I’ve gone for a massage or anything, the practitioner is always commenting that I need to relax more, that I’m tense. I honestly don’t know what they mean. I literally live my life at this tense level and when I’m laying there on that bad I AM AS RELAXED AS I CAN BE! WTF do you think I’m here for a massage? I’m trying to relax more. You do your thing and massage all my stress away, don’t stress me out more by telling me I’m to stressed! Agh!

Anyways, my newest reason for stress is back to my headaches/seizures. My headaches have been out of control for a few months and no amount of sleep, advil, crying, hot showers or medication has proven to be able to stop them. So my doctor ordered an EEG for me. “An electroencephalogram (EEG) is a test used to find problems related to electrical activity of the brain. An EEG tracks and records brain wave patterns” – Thanks Google. Anyways, I went last Friday to the hospital for it. This isn’t my first go at something like this. I’ve had numerous EEG’s, MRI’s and even CAT scans in regards to my seizures. All of them showing that yes, there’s stuff going on up there that’s out of the ordinary, but no one knows why or what to do.

So I’m laying there on the bed once the tech gets all 29 electrodes glued to my head and we go through the deep breathing they have you do and then they have a flashing light set up to see how the brain waves react, which is fine for me since my seizures are not triggered by light, and then I’m just laying there for the last 20 minutes or so. That’s when it happened. Finally while I’m all hooked up to wires and everything to have it recorded on paper for proof.

I had one of my ‘experiences’

Just like a few times before, the world around me melted away and I was nothing and nowhere and everything was complete peace. Until the tech started moving around slowly and said “OK C, That’s it” She then proceeded to ask me if I had a Neurologist in the area (No) and if I had other recent scans handy to give the Dr. (Not on my person at the time, should I have brought them?). And that was that. She pulled out the electrodes and washed out the glue with zero regard to my fresh wash’n’go, messing the hell outta my hair, and I was on my way.

My phone rang on the drive home but I missed it as it was still on silent from the scan, but the voicemail was from the hospital:

IMG_2902

I’m so messed up lol. The Dr. who read my results is requesting me as a patient lol, right after the tech explained to me that appointments with a Neurologist normally take a few months to get, and are on a first come first serve basis. So whichever Dr has a space available next, goes to the person at the top of the list. But here I am, getting name requested by the Dr. himself! I must have some juicy problems going on up there!  I feel like this is way back in elementary school when teams are being picked for soccer at recess but now for the first time I was chosen first. (Yeah I was not an athletic kid lol)

Never in my wildest dream did I think I’d get pushed to the front of the line because of how fucked up my brain was/is. It’s validating in a way. A really weird messed up way, but a way nonetheless. Just to know that everything I’ve been going through is real. And has been recorded on paper by a legitimate hospital, and an actual Dr. might have a solution for me.

And in that weird way, I found myself trying to relax in the dark and quiet to just have some me time this morning in a pile of dirty laundry. This lasted all of 6 minutes based on the washing machine timer, until Z came and sat on the pile of lights beside me and started chatting away. Not in an annoying way, but not in a quiet way either. Asking her cute questions like what are you doing mom? Oh I’ll sit to! What time until my friends come over? What time is it now? How much longer until that time? Oh that’s my blanket in the wash. Oh there goes my shirt. Hey that’s my blanket again. And so it went a stream of endless questions.

So I just settled in and answered her questions as patiently and as detailed as I could. Knowing that this knowledge is the basis of the rest of her life. These questions are empty space in her mind and the answers I give her are building bridges in her mind. I can’t do my kids wrong because my mind is messed up and overloaded with stress. I want to make sure my kids don’t have faulty connections that start to break down as they get older like their dad and I have struggled with. I want them to have strong knowledge and minds that hold them through their life. Our being here in life is so much more than meets the physical eye and I have to do my best to not only heal past hurt on my part so it doesn’t trickle down to them, but also help create new bridges and connections in those newly formed spaces that previously held nothing or damaged things. So I take my time. I answer questions with peace and strong lasting knowledge and hope that what I help create in them has a loving, beautiful and lasting effect. That can pass down through generations to come.

Whether or not my brain can handle seeing it.


-Post Malone Ft. Young Thug / Goodbyes-

Shawty Said The Ni**a That She With Ain’t Shit / Call Me So I Can Come And Prove It To You

So bar boy came over again. Two weekends in a row. And you know what. It was nice. Really nice. His dick is still too big and that part is annoying, but the part of having someone in my bed holding me throughout the night and waking up to morning sex and the intimacy part where he is so considerate of what I need and how I respond to his touch… that part is what I’ve been missing for too long. Just good old fashion guy with girl beauty. In bed talking and touching and being with someone. I need that in my life so much. My love language is definitely touch and feel and to be alone for so long has been very draining on me on such a deep level. I thought I’d be ok just having my one night stands and getting what I needed that way, but that was ultimately more draining than fulfilling and probably let me worse off than before.

So I got in touch with army guy (I know I know to many guys) from a few summers back who I never actually slept with but for some reason we got along fairly well. At least well enough that I didn’t sleep with him (because our conversations were so good) that I told him straight up that I was in love with K and there was no way we’d end up together. I know I’m so messed up, if I have feelings for a guy I don’t sleep with them? I’m backwards. So anyways army guy and I have a 5 minute chat every 4-5 months just to keep in touch and so I asked him his opinion on the following since he’s a guy I can just be honest with.

How do you tell a dude his dick is to big, but you still wanna keep him around for everything else? C he said, if you tell a guy that, he’s not going to be offended, but he’s not going to want to come just to hold you and stroke your hair. You gotta learn how to take a dick.

Annnnnnd yet another reason I never slept with him, our conversations were honest, but he was an ass. Ok. For starters. I can take hella dick. It’s when it feels like it’s gonna break a rib or trying to give you CPR and restart your heart with each thrust that I have no interest in it anymore. I like sex to be pleasurable, not feel like I have to wiggle away each time he humps me because I’m feeling like it’s hitting a brick wall inside and going to break me.

The thing is, I don’t want to fault bar boy for being so well endowed and sweet. Like he texts me everyday to say good morning and ask me how I’m doing on top of the caring vibe I got from him while he was around. Don’t worry I’m not catching feelings. Like I have zero interest in this guy long term. He already told me he’s only in town until December, which is probably why I felt comfortable enough to have him around in the first place. I knew there were boundaries from the get go. I knew it wouldn’t have a catch to turn serious, so I felt safe. I told you I’m broke 🤷🏻‍♀️

I’m not interested in getting attached to anyone anymore. I’ve been through enough heartache, but a girls gotta get her bed rocked WAY more often than I have been and as much as I fooled around with my toys every so often, it’s not the same for me and I don’t get the same enjoyment out of them as I do real sex. I like to be touched. I like to be tasted. I like to be pushed past my limits and I can’t do that to myself. I like to be kissed and held. Oh my god I like to be kissed. And held.

So here’s my lame dilemma. Do I risk telling him his dick is uncomfortably large, and have him stay away, losing out on the only enjoyable male companionship I’ve had in over a year? Or possibly yes I tell him and he decides that for the next few months he’d rather want my company with no sex but still everything else. Do you think he’d still stroke my hair until I fell asleep? Do you think he would sleep over and not expect sex. Or should I just keep it as is and awkwardly wiggle away each time he shoves his massively huge cock in my apparently small tight pussy, in order to keep the other benefits until December?

Like I said, it’s a lame dilemma, but a choice I need to make nonetheless.

So blogging word… recommendations?


-Lil Wayne/Lollipop-

This Girl Is Half His Age Don’t Stand So Close To Me

I made a mistake.

As a mom. I didn’t realize how my comment would affect Little E until the other day I went to give him a hug and kiss, which is pretty standard in our house and he turned his head so I could only kiss his cheek as opposed to his lips. So I asked if he was to mature to give his mom a little kiss? Let’s be reasonable here just for discussions sake. It’s not like we kiss with tongue or anything longer then a quick kiss to show affection and love. It’s nothing sexual and totally fine. But when I asked that he replied that no, it wasn’t because he was to cool, it was that a few days ago I made the comment that he should not kiss Z (his little sister for my new readers) on the lips. Now. For perspective, my kids just turned 6&9 this summer. And once in a while when they go to bed or say goodbye, they’ll give each other a big hug and a kiss. And apparently my uncomfortableness felt the need to push its way to the surface finally and I asked them to build walls between themselves to make myself feel better.

When he said that, I felt like shit.

I didn’t mean to cause him to think showing affection towards anyone is a negative thing, or something that needed to be reviewed in his life. In fact I have no logical reason for making that offhand comment to him other than for the same reason I no longer allow them to bathe together or don’t let them have sleepovers in each other’s rooms. I have fear.

I don’t want anything happening to Z. Now please, please don’t get me wrong. I don’t think Little E would ever do anything intentionally her or vice versa but as a mother I have to understand kids are innocent, but they also like to explore. So since I have the knowledge of that, I have to use my personal position as an adult in authority to prevent any harm to either of them in anyway that I can. That includes any potential sexual exploration among each other.

I know. This is a very taboo topic. And one that each family decides for themselves.

I for myself was never sexually assaulted as a child by a family member, but when you hear stories, you want to make sure you are considerate of others pain, and think of ways to keep your own kids safe.

Obviously, I’m being on the extreme side when I bring up the term sexual assault. But it starts somewhere. And so I have to teach both of my kids safe boundaries in regards to how they treat their bodies as well as how they approach others. I wanted to make sure Z felt ok with how she was being ‘loved’ and also that just because someone else wanted a kiss, didn’t mean she had too. I said the same thing to Little E. Like if we go to even a family get together or something and you don’t want to hug or kiss someone, you don’t have to. And from there, no he felt uncomfortable giving me a kiss to.

So I guess that’s my own fault, but I also think it’s ok in a way. It’s making him think through intimacy and boundaries. I don’t want him to think it’s never ok to kiss others, but I want there to definitely open up a conversation about it.

We’ll see where this goes from here. And I apologize this post is all over the place. I’ve written it in bits and pieces over the day and don’t feel like even reading it over for consistency’s sake. But thanks for reading anyways.

Has anyone had this issue or conversation with your own kids? How did it go? Or did you just leave them on their own to grow and figure it out alone? Let me know!

-The Police/Don’t Stand So Close To Me-