Category: Series

Olive Juice, Personal, Series

So I made a post last year with this exact title. Turns out, I still kinda suck as a mom a year later. Here’s the thing. Pretty sure we’re all gonna have sucky mom (and dads!) moments until our kids are adults. So this weeks edition of “I suck as a mom” is brought to you by yours truly.

1). I was at west ed on Monday, she didn’t wanna be in her stroller. So I let her walk beside me, but then she only wanted to be carried. So I carried her. Only to have her puke all over me and the mall floor. Right smack in front of abercrombie and fitch, you know… where all the teeny boppers go and are really mature. Shout out to the dude who made a huge dramatic face and covered his nose with his shirt. Bro, be happy you’re not the one with barf down your boobs and on your crotch (my daughter is talented in getting it in the best places). Joke was on him… he was wearing a Crooks and Castles shirt with a diamond stud I’m pretty sure he stole form his little sisters earring collection from Claire’s. I’ll take barf on me any day if my option were a). barf or b). his outfit.

2). Olive refused to eat the whole week.

3). On Wednesday I decided to have my monthly shower. I usually just let her in the bathroom with me. But today I didn’t wanna have a toilet brush, toilet plunger, toilet paper roll, or whatever else she finds thrown in the shower with me. All of these items have been thrown in with me in the past. So I closed all the doors to the rooms and let her roam the living room and hallway, free as a bird. I shower for literally 3 mins, and wrap my towel around me. *side note* Dane used my towel the night before because he’s constantly leaving his in our bedroom, so I yelled for him to bring me a new towel. He brings me the towel that I bought because it was “cute” and had tassels and pretty embroidery on it. It barely goes around me. So here I am in this barely there towel and I come out and start looking for Olive troll. I don’t see her. So I go into the bedroom. She’s not there. I come out to the living room. She’s not there. But the front door is wide open. I’m brown, I have the all year round tan going on…. but I’m pretty sure I looked like a white chick in that moment. I run out into the street (in my barely there towel) screaming her name over and over again. I can’t see her anywhere. I realize the gate to the backyard is swinging because it was raining and super windy that day, so I run back there somewhat relieved because she’s at least not on the street. But she’s not there either. So now I’m running back into the house to call 911. I can’t find my phone because that’s what happens in situations where you desperately need your phone. I start screaming her name again inside and I hear “mama, mama, mama?” I run to the pantry/laundry room and swing open the door. She’s not there. I’m just kidding, she’s there. She’s trying to get to her fruit snacks, and decided the best way to do so without getting caught is to close the door behind her. I grab her and my knees kinda buckle and I just hug her. I keep telling her she scared me, and that I’m sorry, and she just looks at me and points to her fruit snacks. I get it kid, I like them too.

4). Because she’s barely eating, and she clearly likes fruit snacks, I decide I’m gonna make some. You know, the healthy kind. So I scour Pinterest looking for recipes until I settle on one. Its got spinach, strawberries, no sugar, blah blah, healthy, you get it. I make a huge batch and wait for the pectin to do it’s thang and set into delicious healthy fruit snacks. My fruit snacks don’t really set and look like whale blubber. Dane pointed to it and went “Sooooo……. not really hey?” No. No Dane, not really. Not at all. I put them in baggies and he thinks they’ll be good in smoothies. That’s his way of saying “I saw all the organic crap you put in there,you’re not allowed to throw that out.” We’ll see how many smoothie get made.

5). Here’s the real doozy. I had to go back to west ed on Friday (it’s a long story. Ok wait, it’s actually not that long. I like shopping). So I had to go back. And that morning Olive cried for 3 hours straight and would not let me put her down. I thought she was just being whiny and I was getting super impatient with her. So at the mall I did what I had come to do, and on our way out, Afton and me just happened to sneak into Anthropologie for a quick gander. Afton was in line paying and Olive was getting fussy in her stroller, so I took out fruit snacks (not the whale blubber ones), and offered her one. She shook her head and said ” no!” and stared at me. It was in that moment white, chunky, smelly lava exploded for her mouth. Like SO much. And it wouldn’t stop coming out. I just stared at her in shock for a few seconds, and then I calmly went up to Afton and told her I’d meet her in the bathroom. She took one look at Olive and her eyes went all wide eyed and her mouth just made a huge “O.” I walked calmly to the bathroom, people giving sympathetic looks the whole way. I just smiled and gave “haha, just a bit sick… I’m fine, I’m fine, really! I’ve got it all under control” look. As soon as I got to the baby change area of the bathroom I may have freaked out a bit in my head. Taking of her barf soaked shirt was fun, when I pulled it over her head it got on her face, her neck, her hair. Her pants are covered, the stroller is covered. She managed to get it inside her shoes. It’s basically cottage cheese that reeks and is EVERYWHERE. Afton comes in and is slightly looking like she might also puke, but she runs off to winners and buys a towel, baby soap and wash cloths. So Olive had a bath at the west ed bathroom. In the sink.

6). We go straight to the walk in clinic and she gets seen right away. She has a fever of 39.4 and they tell me she has a chest infection. They prescribe her antibiotics and send us on our way. I give her the antibiotics against my better judgement (I’m the granola mom that doesn’t immunize her kid and isn’t fond of antibiotics. You can judge me and send me hate mail, all good!) After her second dose of antibiotics, my kid is COVERED in hives. Face, arms, legs…. covered. And I’m pissed. So turns out my kid is allergic to penicillin. I’m pissed because I didn’t feel comfortable when the doctor was rushed in seeing us because the clinic closed 15 mins after we got there. I’m pissed because she barley checked her and then said “I’m gonna say it’s a chest infection, but I can’t be sure. If she gets worse take her to emergency.” I’m pissed because I should have known better than to go against my judgement. I’m pissed because my baby has huge welts covering most of her body even as I write this.

 

Ok. Before I get death threats, calm your self. I 100% believe in doctors, and I am grateful beyond words for them (Uhhh… have you not read my post “The C- word?”) Will I take my Olive to the doctor? Yep. When needed ( I took her this morning to our family doctor!) Do I go to the doctor? VERY rarely, but yes. I go. My mom works for the health care system, trust me…. I’m not against them. Will I immunize Olive? As of right now, my answer is a strong no. Have I researched as to why I don’t want to? Yes. Do I judge people who immunize their kids and themselves? Strong no. Will I ever change my mind on immunization? Possibly! Like I said, I’m not against the medical system, doctors, nurses, antibiotics, none of it. I just have my OWN opinions as to when they are needed for MY child and myself. This post isn’t about immunizations, our health care system, doctors. It’s not about antibiotics, or political views, religious views, or whether you think unicorns are real or not. This post (and this blog for that matter) is about me being a sucky mom that is learning to have grace with herself, patience with her daughter, love and even more patience with her husband (he drives me bonkers), and maybe a good recipe or two. Or maybe even a good hair day, or if I find an outfit that doesn’t make me feel like a baby whale, I’ll post about that too. Stranger things have happened you know.

The moral of this story, post, whatever you wanna call it is this. DO NOT BUY THE CUTE TOWELS. Buy the big Bertha (I was gonna wrote big, juicy Donna ones but then I got worried Donna is too much of a common name) towels. You know, the ones that wrap around your ENTIRE body. Also, if you have any good fruit gummy recipes that don’t turn out like whale blubber, please share.

 

DISCLAIMER/WARNING

One of the images you are about to see contains graphic content and may not be suitable for wusses, or for people who probably don’t have kids.

 

Picture 1). Olive snuck and got her gummies and has a mouth full. Picture 2). My “fruit gummies.” More like fruit fail.  Picture 3). No explanation necessary.

 

Personal

If I had a dime for every time someone told me I had really white teeth, I’d have a solid $1.60. That might not seem like a lot, but thats at least 16 people that have told me I have really white teeth. 7 years ago, I was getting ready for my wedding, and I decided I wanted white teeth. Like Ross Gellar in that one episode of Friends where he ends up with glow in the dark teeth he gets them so white. So I went to my dentist and got the trays made. Did they whiten my teeth? Yup. They did. I did have to make an appointment with my dentist, go in and get the trays made, wait a few weeks to have them sent back to my dentist, then go back to to make sure they fit, then start the process. So it took awhile. Also, I didn’t tell my soon to be husband how much I was helping my dentist out financially.

Smile brilliant does all that for you from the comfort of your own couch while you watch Friends reruns (“So no one told you life was gonna be this way, your job’s a joke, you’re broke, your love life’s D.O.A!” Admit it. You started singing it too). They send you a package with the instructions to make your teeth whitening trays. They have a envelope all pre labelled for you so all you do is mail it in. Once your teeth whitening trays are made you get them within 3-5 business days, and then BadaBoom BadaBing! You start your teeth whitening process. Its been 7 years since I last whitened my teeth, so when Smile Brilliant reached out and asked if I’d be willing to try their product, I figured it would be the perfect way to make another $1.60. Every time some one tells me I have white teeth I’ll just ask they make a small contribution of .10 cents.

I want white teeth, I think most people can say they do as well. Smile Brilliant offers so many options to fit your needs. If you have sensitive teeth but are heavily stained, theirs a package for you. Or if your teeth aren’t sensitive at all, but you have decent teeth already and just want to enhance your smile, theirs a package for you. Smile Brilliant makes it easy for you to have that white smile you want. So keep enjoying your starbucks, or Tim Horton’s, or your second cup (but don’t keep smoking… you should quit that), Smile Brilliant has got your back covered. Technically they’ve got your teeth covered, but you guys know what I mean.

Here are some other teeth whitening reviews about the whole process if you still need more convincing. I don’t know why you would though. A Ross Gellar smile and $1.60 sounds pretty good to me. Also, check out this helpful article on 7 things to know before buying teeth whitening. Might help you out with your decision.

 

 

 

Giveaway

Enter to win an amazing giveaway of $139 credit to your own whitening system. If you don’t win, you can still get $20 off any kit of your choice using the code olivebell20. And on top of that, use the code olivebell5 for and additional 5% off your order. This contest ends two weeks from today.

 

 

This post is sponsored by Smile Brilliant, all thoughts and expressions are my own. Thank you for supporting companies that make my teeth white and my smile brighter. My teeth thank you.

 

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How Much Is Teeth Whitening

Personal

I turned 30 today. That’s kinda of a big number. I remember freaking out about turning 25, and to think that was five years ago is insane. I know 30 isn’t old. It’s not. I hopefully haven’t even lived half of my life yet. But saying bye to your 20’s is what’s kinda throwing me off. Whatever. My boobs aren’t hitting the floor yet, and that’s nothing a push up bra can’t fix. Cheers to 30, push up bras, and saying goodbye to the girl in her 20’s. *CLINK*  Here are some things I’ve learned in 30 years of living, and some things about me you might not know.

Things You Might Not Know About Me:

1). I’m a homebody. I may have a passport with a few stamps here and there… but my favourite place to be is at home.

2). I hate crowds, busy places, parties, bars, pubs, social events. You know… where there’s people. Ariel had it all wrong. Sebastian knew what was up. (ps- if you don’t get my Little Mermaid reference…. you are younger than 30).

3). I’ve never been to a bar. Which I suppose would make #2 wrong. Because technically I can’ hate somewhere i’ve never been. But I’m pretty sure I would still hate it. And this is my list so bugger off.

4). I can imitate people pretty good. I can’t do accents (I literally can’t even do a Mexican accent. No joke). But I can imitate you. Do not ask me to imitate you.

5). I love weddings. I love the details. The dress. The decorations. Heck, I even like the speeches. My dream job would be for you to pay me lots of money and I plan your wedding. And then you tip me. A very generous tip.

6). I love old people. I really do. I could talk to them all day. Listen to their stories, their life, their opinions. I love old people. However, I do not want to be old quite yet.

Things I Have Learned In 30 Years:

7). People want to be validated. They want to feel useful, needed. They want to feel like they helped you and you’re thankful for what they did. So remember that. Tell someone that you appreciate them.

8). People also want to be offended by something. It’s 2017. If you wanna transform yourself into a unicorn, or a flamingo, or flip, even a beaver (if you’re thinking about it- go for the unicorn), have at er. Just don’t shove it down my throat or get offended because I don’t agree with it. Last time I checked, you didn’t need my approval to feel validated did you?

9). Click bait. If you came from Instagram, I needed you to come read my blog. I get more traffic that way. Thanks for the support and coming to read my blog. Also, sorry you thought you were getting something juicy.

10). Admitting you’re wrong is one of the hardest things to do. It like…. very RARELY happens to me, but when I am wrong, I hate to admit it. We should work on that together. *Fist bump*

11). Your hairdresser will NEVER, I repeat NEVER get your hair to look like the picture your bring her. When I was 21, I took a picture of Jessica Simpson (she’s the “dumb” blonde with a couple mil in the bank who thought tuna, AKA “chicken of the sea” was chicken that…. lived in the ocean? She was a singer in the early 2000’s… you know, if you’re younger than 30). I came out looking like Dora the Explorer. Wanna know how I know I looked like her? A). I’m brown and speak Spanish, and B). because when Dane saw me he literally said “You look like Dora the explorer.” Literally his exact words.

12). Here’s the last thing I’m going to share. It’s probably the biggest thing I’ve learned over the years. Ready? You can’t change and you will not change someone who doesn’t want to change. That person can be a millimetre away from the edge of a 100 ft cliff. You can be telling them they’re going to fall if they don’t move. You can be screaming, kicking, crying, they will not move. Unless you start making the move away from that cliff yourself, that person will not budge. Be the change you want to see, the rest will follow. You don’t tell people they need to change. That will just piss them off. They need to see you make the first move. So make that first move.

If you take anything from this, it is this. Don’t set the standard to Jessica Tuna Simpson. Set the bar to Dora. That way you won’t come out disappointed.

I’m 30 today. My heart has not stopped beating in 30 years. I hope that when I die, someone will say “that girl was happy. She lived a happy life.” (Notice how I said someone? Can’t say “people”, as in plural. Can’t set the bar too high). I’m happy. Not everyday. But most days. Last night, at 11:00 pm my whole family decided to go for an almost midnight swim. So we did. We swam outside in a 30 degree pool underneath stormy skies and patio lights. We raced, we laughed, and we were happy. My heart was happy. I am a happy 30 year old. I hope you are too. And if you aren’t, I truly hope you can find it. That is my birthday wish. For you to be truly happy. That, and the dyson hand held vacuum. Happy Birthday to me, happy day to you.

 

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Olive Juice, Personal, Series

 

She turns 1 today. Am I emotional? No. I’m happy. I literally kept a human alive for a year, and thats a huge deal because I could barely keep my nano baby alive (does anyone remember those?) I’m not that mom that will cry and say “she’s not my baby anymore” or “she’ll always be my baby.” Either one. No. I know what the passing of time entails, and it entails your newborn becoming a month old, and then a 4 month old, and then pretty soon you have a 1 year old. And before I know it I’ll have a toddler. I’m not sad because if I’m being totally honest, which I tend to be, it’s that the baby phase was tough and I did not enjoy it as much as maybe most moms. I got mastitis twice, which then resulted in needing antibiotics, which then resulted in thrush twice. Second round lasting a solid three months. My milk flow sucked, so breastfeeding was torture (again, thrush with that was even worse). Olive was a tough baby. She only wanted me, she woke up every 2 hours though the night, and she was loud. Like, REALLY loud. But now she’s at the age where her giggle is the best sound I hear, her toothy grin is the cutest, and her personality is the funniest. She is a little turd, and everyone agrees. She has more personality than I thought a baby could have. She’s got attitude, spunk, she’s funny and she knows it. She can charm any watch off your wrist and slobber on it like nobody’s business. Enough about Olive, lets talk about me. Here’s a few things, tips and tricks I’ve learned in the past year as a new mom. A new less “ish” selfish human being.

  1. I can take a stain out of almost anything. Poop stains are my specialty.
  2. I have more patience I knew I had. Except with Dane. I think I have less patience with him now.
  3. I am totally fine with going to Costco with greasy hair, no make up, and socks I took out of the dirty clothes pile. (It was ONE time, and in my defence, my feet never stink…. so basically they were clean).
  4. I have learned to not longingly stare at people eating before me because I have to eat last due to a child that is whining and crying and is attached to me like an octopus (octopus sounded better than leech in my head).
  5. 3 minute showers, including shaving. Just buy bandaids. You’ll be fine.
  6. Take extra clothes everywhere you go. Even if you’re just going out for 20 mins. That’s when nature (nature is a poop explosion in case you’re wondering. Just thought I’d help you out) will decide is an opportune time to yell “TOLD YOU SO.” Just take the extra clothes.
  7. Take a plastic bag with you. For poop clothes. I once had to walk around the mall with poop clothes in the bottom of the stroller basket. People probably though I had crapped my pants. Also, shout out to GAP who refused to give me a bag because I hadn’t bought something. Clearly the $100,000,000,000 I have spent there on baby clothes doesn’t count as “something.”
  8. You can never have too many diapers.
  9. Baby food is disgusting.
  10. If you put something in your basket online and do the whole checkout process, but then don’t actually checkout, the company will email you within a few days with a coupon code. (This isn’t really baby related, but a very good life tip. You’re welcome.
  11. Baby Gap usually has a “One Day Only sale” every day. Just wait for the 40% off coupon codes. And its free shipping when you spend over $50.
  12. Buy sleepers for the first 3-6 months. So many sleepers. Your baby doesn’t wanna look fashionable. It wants to be warm and cosy.
  13. Buy yourself comfy clothes. You don’t wanna be fashionable. You want to be warm and cosy.
  14. NEVER underestimate how many wipes you will need. take wipes everywhere you go. Lot’s.
  15. Go with the flow. Roll with the punches. “You do you boo.” Flipping SURVIVE. That’s my last piece of advice. If that means crying until snot is rolling down your face, do it. If it means getting up before your baby to get stuff done, do it. If it means having a messy house because you are held prisoner by a baby, do it. No one should judge you. Unless they’ve walked a mile in your shoes… which why would they? That would be weird if a stranger just asked to borrow your shoes and walk a mile and then return them.

Story of the day: today we went to Calgary with my friend. I wore a white shirt with a white lace kimono. Olive wore her baby jeans with white lace and the cutest white lace top. We were adorbs. I got hoison sauce on my right boob at lunch from my lettuce wraps. Just under that was a black tire stain from trying to fold out the most possessed stroller of all time. My left side had something green on it. She then decided to hurl her glass bottle in the middle of the mall, have the bottle shatter and have milk go everywhere. Right smack in the middle of where people walk. Olive then decided to have “nature” (refer to #6) happen on the QE2, which resulted in having “nature” up her back, in her arms (like HOWWWW??) in her hair, all over her car seat. Afton was of wonderful help. You know, with the gagging and commentary: “that is foul.” “Oh man, that is rank.” Thank goodness for wipes and extra clothes (not this day nature, NOT this day). When washing her clothes in the sink in a dingy bathroom on the side of the road, I got my left side of my shirt soaking wet. SO I had a disgusting dirty, white shirt with a soaking wet left boob. Attached to my hip was a child that was not wearing the same clothes she left with, along with a slight smell of “nature.” Just go with the flow. Roll with the punches.

 

Olive Rose, today you are one. Olive Rose, today I celebrate you. I celebrate your 5 teeth, your perfect fingers and toes. I celebrate your grin and your dark eyes and dark eyelashes. I celebrate your tiny ears, chubby cheeks, your infectious scent. I celebrate your round belly, pouty lips, your dark hair. I celebrate your dimply bum, your stork bite on your lower back. I celebrate your laughter, your sweet kisses, your eyes that smile at me with love, your arms that always are held open for mine. I celebrate the way your breath still smells of sweetness and of innocence. I celebrate how you only see me as your protector, not as the flawed human that I am. I celebrate the gift I was given one year ago today, the gift I take for granted, the gift that changed the course of my life. The gift that will never let me be the same as I once was. I celebrate you little one, my little love, my little bug. I love you. I love you. And I love you. I will love you until I can no longer. Happiest of birthdays Olive Rose. You literally have no clue what today is, but I will still celebrate you and your first year of life on this earth.

 

Olive Juice, Series

You’re 9 months old today Olive, and I can hardly believe that soon you will have been in my life for a whole year. You cut two teeth, your bottom two middle ones. You’ve started to crawl (mostly face plant). You have learned to give kisses (getting you to do it is another story). You like to tense your arms like you’re flexing, and do this deep growl, and it might be my favourite thing you do. You let me know when you don’t like a toy (you glare at me and bat at my hand and grunt). You can laugh hard now, and it’s this tiny, deep cackle, and hearing you is the best sound. You like strawberry cereal puffs, you can eat almost a whole banana, you like mashed potatoes, and you love to drink cold water. You hate socks on your feet, you hate getting a shirt pulled over your head, or put on. When you’re angry or frustrated you chuck yourself back as hard as you can and wail (I’m waiting for the day you do this on something other than a bed. That’ll be fun). You despise having your nose picked, but love having the inside of your ears rubbed. You have discovered your lungs, and sometimes you just let out the loudest screech and then smile at me, clearly pleased with yourself.

You are the reason to my frustrations, my tired eyes, my long nights, my early mornings. You are why I have poo on my face, barf on my clothes. You are the months and months it took me to finish a book, you are the reason why my diaper bag has everything except the kitchen sink in there. You are shoulder pain from carrying that bag around, you are why my left arm could probably beat Dwayne Johnson in an arm wrestle. You are 20 lbs and something ounces of Olive Rose.

Olive Rose, you are my light. You are why I wake up in the morning (literally). You are my joy, my best gift I’ve ever received, my happiness. You are the reason why my eyes stung with tears when you leaned in ever so gently to give me your first ever kiss on the lips (a lot of slobber, but I’ll take it). You are the reason I open my eyes in the middle of the night and kiss your cheeks over and over again, risking my sanity in case I wake you up. You are the smell I crave, your scent is my comfort (and your dads cologne). Your toes and your stubby thumb are the cutest things. Your eyes and eyelashes are enough to make me cry when you look up at me with the sweetest, most humble look. Your smile lights up a person’s day. Your life Olive, has so much meaning, so much value. You are, without a doubt, my blessing. And I love you. More than you might ever know. Thank you growing in my belly, and thank you for being mine.

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