Goodbye Halloween candy.

It’s hasn’t been a week since Halloween and the three pillow cases of candy have seriously diminished in size. Looking at those half empty bags really highlights my need to start eating healthy again. I’ve gained five pounds and the kids are just not accepting that a candy fairy snuck in throughout the night and could only use candy to build her tiny little fairy town, for her tiny little fairy babies. Times like these I wish I wasn’t raising them to think before they believe everything. Last year I was on a health kick, exercising, eating quinoa, drinking ungodly amounts of water and smoothies everyday, you know all that healthy stuff you’re supposed to do. I’ve since fallen into this unhealthy eating cycle, again. I can feel it taking a toll on my body, I feel generally sick all the time, I don’t have energy, my skin is bad, and I don’t sleep well. Of course, that last one could be due to the two year old who decides half way through the night she’s going to sleep crossways in the bed and kick mommy in the face, and ask for her “sucky” twenty times a night, because it fell out of her mouth while she was busy kicking mommy in the face… I mean sleeping, or the fact she wakes up screaming saying Matthew punched her, Jenny bit her or Maya pulled her hair (They even fight in their dreams). It could very well be an effect of any one of those scenarios, but for now I’ll chalk it up to my unhealthy eating habits.

My husband isn’t going to like the comeback of quinoa flax muffins. (Which he lovingly renamed “shit tarts”) and the kids aren’t going to be happy about the replacement of Their beloved Greco pizza with cauliflower pizza, but those half eaten bags of Halloween guilt are not going to justify themselves, the sugar highs are getting out of control, and these extra pounds aren’t going to evaporate. So goodbye Halloween candy it was good while it lasted but you just can’t stay here.

Attempting to resuscitate.

It seems like a natural progression for me to start a blog, I believe writing is an art, and with art comes therapeutic relief. Therapeutic relief through writing right now is a welcome alternative to the stress relief solutions I’ve used in the past. Being alone for weeks, and months at a time while my selfless husband devotes his time to providing for his family, with three kids under seven, a six month old german shepherd, a bunny and minimal adult contact, I’ll take large doses of that relief, unrefined, at an accelerated rate, please!

Ever since I can remember I’ve had a love for writing. When I was 7 years old I rewrote “bears on wheels” by Dr. Seuss to adhere to a Christmas theme, I worked all day, everyday for the week leading up to Christmas. I sat in my room and instead of playing with barbies I was at my little desk rewriting one of my favourite books so it would be presentable for my family on Christmas Eve (You would think someone with that much ambition and drive as a child wouldn’t have hit so many bumps, craters and all out dead ends on the road of life, but that’s another story.) Then I forced my sister to partake in the bears on wheels Christmas edition, rendition by Crystal Styles (7 year old) on Christmas Eve for family and friends in the bottom bunk of our bunk bed, complete with blanket curtains and scripts. (Honestly, I still have the home videos!) I guess that was the first hint that writing was somewhat of a compulsion for me.

Although throughout the years writing has drifted away from me and has become a distant stranger, since my children were born, and throughout some darker chapters of my life, I lost the spark that once compelled me to write, but I’ve found since I’ve started again, writing makes me feel complete, in touch, it’s an outlet, and somewhere for me to vent about the otherwise frivolous, trivial and redundant aspects of the typical day in the life of a stay-at-home Mom.

Words are used to paint a story, eloquently strung together the words come alive, dance, sing to you, paint a picture, make you laugh, make you cry, and have the power to change your life. I love to read all the other mommy, sober, opinion, politics, world view, and interest blogs they make me feel normal, well maybe not normal but definitely not insane! So in an attempt to reunite with my first love, reignite a spark that once lived in me, resuscitate my failing mommy brain and to fill the time I’m alone with something other then television, I’ve started a blog, I hope someone enjoys reading it as much as I enjoy writing it!