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Archive for the ‘No Category’ Category

You’re all waiting aren’t you!

You’re on the edge of your chairs wondering who won? Was it the vagina touching or the penis drag? Was it the nose pickers or the booby feeler?

Well, you will soon find out.

After a post.

A post about bloggers, blogging, and blog love.

I’m a relatively new blogger, I know, shocking!

Almost six months.

I adore the supportive community that is this writing world, I appreciate the encouragement and assistance from people I have met and I value the friendships I have made.

I have been lucky to not be a victim of online bullying to the extent that others have and I firmly believe we should build each other up, not tear each other down.

Recently, with the arrival of Klout, I’ve been reading a lot of posts, from new and seasoned bloggers, regarding their numbers, comments, Google Friend Connect, and now, their Klout scores.  They’re reaching out to one another for advice on how to maximize their social media reach, how to read more blogs, and how to get more comments.

These numbers games are poo stew for me!

I don’t look at my blog stats and the only reason I go to Klout is because I like to spread the love.

I never stop reading someone’s blog because they don’t visit mine, I read them for what they write not because I have an expectation of a visit in return.

I blog for the love of the written word, the relationships I’m building, and for me!

The numbers aren’t important, your words are what matter.

OK.

Now onto the WINNER.

The winner receives a HAWT Estro-Tote from Lady Estrogen and their blog button on my site for TWO weeks!


Congratulations…..

MAMA MASH!!

You’re child pulls the dog around by the penis far too often, and we love you for it!

Email me your address and we’ll send you this fantastic bag (as soon as the postal strike is over).

Leighann

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Most little girls grow up dreaming of their wedding days.

I did.

Hours spent draping oversized fabric around in preparation for my imaginary nuptials.

Growing up dreaming of my soul mate, my one true love, of the man I was destined to be with.

When I was 18 I fell in love. I was head over heals and believed I had found the one, we were going to be together forever.

My heart was broken.

I was 18. People change as they grow. I had changed and so had he. He was not my price charming and he was not my match.

As time went on friends became engaged and married, they expressed their love for one another in front of their families. Their love was evident, explosive, and unbreakable.

That little girl inside of me screamed.

She wanted that kind of love.

When would it be her turn?

Dating because an obsession, no longer fun and exciting. It became about meeting my criteria. I needed a break.

And then I meet him.

He made me nervous.

No one ever made me nervous.

His eyes pierced through me when he spoke and he was funny. I loved funny.

We were never apart.

Even now we are rarely apart. His easy-going nature, hilarity, and dedication to whatever he is doing make him so easy to be around. He is the most loyal person I have ever met, supportive and empathetic.

We welcomed a daughter in April 2010 and I saw him be a father for the first time.

We are blessed. This man will go to the ends of the earth for his family and for this I am more than grateful.

On June 1, 2011 he proposed to me.

Yes this year.

No we weren’t married.

Yes I know you thought we were.

Sorry I didn’t tell you.

I said yes.

Leighann

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Big Steps

Two fingers grasp the leg of the highchair, wound tightly keeping her upright. Her smile is wide and full of 6 teeth.

Stomp stomp stomp

She marches in place and giggles, throwing her head back and then points at us all. Soaking in the attention and the applause she laughs loudly and claps, letting go of her support.

Gasp.

There she stands, all on her own, and claps her hands.

Friends are visiting and they encourage her to come to them, they tell her she can do it.

Tilting her head towards her shoulder she smirks and then bends down to pick up a wayward shoe, she holds her prize high in the air and squeals before stepping forward.

One step

Two steps

Three steps

Four steps

Five steps

Did that just happen? She just walked! My baby just walked! Did everyone see that?

So much screaming. Celebrating. Hugging. Clapping.

So proud.

She was so proud.

Her grin grew 3 times its size.

My heart grew 3 times its size.

I was so proud.

Let's BEE Friends

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Lets Go Outside?

Beautiful heat shines down on the newly planted begonias, pansies, and marigolds. Each beautiful stem standing tall in its new beige pot, freshly packed down in black earth.

Together we picked each flower out, planning where we would put each one, anticipating it’s growth, imagining the picture guests would see when they drove up our driveway, mesmerized by the flowers in full bloom.

So many plans made.

All these things I want to do.

Every summer my list is long, my promises are many, and my intentions are good. But then I remember I hate the outdoors.

Laying on the beach, feeling the sun soak into my skin and closing in on a burn , it sounds heavenly. I can see the waves rolling against the sand, I can feel the cool breeze against my legs, and if I close my eyes I can hear laughter from families enjoying the miles of freedom the banks offer.

Once there I feel the heat hit my hair, the sweat begins to roll down my back, and I get itchy. I start a mental count down of how much longer I have to endure the fiery burns of hell.

I imagine feeling the cool water tickling my legs as I enter, the ebb and flow that carries me further into the deep, eventually ducking under and allowing the waves to take me under.

The water is colder than imagined and my bathing suit is baggy on my behind. I forget every year that I don’t like my legs, my stomach, or my arms and am reminded when the suit is back on. The water suddenly seems to taunt me.

Every summer I make plans.

This summer it was a beautiful garden, complete with flowers, hanging baskets, moving bushes, turning dirt, and lighting.

Gardening is a lot of work. There are bugs, the sun is hot, and the baby eats the flowers. The bending over is not just painful but unflattering, and sweat mixed with dirt is not a combination I enjoy.

But, Brian does.

And our gardens look beautiful!

Leighann

* editors note – yesterday I vlogged about my gardens (or lack there of) I do have gardens as you can read above, however, for the purpose of the vlog (and comedic genius) I thought it best that you see what would happen if I alone did the gardening.

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Home.

The destination I aim for everyday after work.

My family inside awaiting my arrival, planning dinner, their voices echoing off of the kitchen walls, and baby squeals travelling to meet me at the door.

A sweet welcome.

Until I see the mark.

The dental records from another chid left in my baby’s arm.

I hear Brian ask me to be calm so he can relay the information.

The world turns from shades of red to black, I picture myself growing claws out of my finger tips and sharp fang like teeth capable of ripping into any opponent.

A low growl is forming in my throat and threatening to escape as my body fights the urge to crouch into a pouncing position.

“Who.Did.This?”

Is all I can mutter. The room is dark, a spotlight shines on the red teeth marks that appear to be pulsing on my daughters arm.

“They don’t know, she didn’t cry or make a fuss, they noticed it late in the day.”

I feel a sharp pain in my gut, someone is stabbing me, but when I look down there is no blood. My head is pounding.

I pace back and forth like a caged animal attempting to keep my composure but the red marks scream at me.

You weren’t there to protect me!

Rushing to my daughter I ask her what happened, who hurt her?

She touches my face.

My growl turns into tears.

She smiles at me and reaches for my hair.

My sharp teeth meant to cut into my prey retract.

She laughs and says “mama?”

My claws fall away and I touch her angry marks

I wasn’t there to protect her.

But she was ok.

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I’ve written before about what I used to do for a living, before the job I have now.

Working with behavioural youth.

Running a Crisis Home.

These children lived with me 24/7 while I attempted to de-escalate behaviours, create a structured environment, implement programming, life skills, expectations, chores. While I showed them love, understanding, compassion, and empathy.

Many times there would be nights I did not sleep due to incidents.

But I would get up the next morning because I had a job to do.

When I was preparing to have my daughter friends and family told me how difficult life would be once she came along.

How my life would change.

I laughed at them. I explained my history in dealing with children. That I understood the expectations and that I had a lot of experience dealing with all types of youth.

I was confident I would excel.

I was annoyed that no one believed me.

I was wrong.

Being a mother is nothing like working with behavioural youth.

The nights are longer, the days are longer, there is no pay.

There is no manual, no mission statement, no boss to ask for assistance or a day off.

There’s no annual review and no feedback on improvements you might make, it’s all guess work.

The appreciation doesn’t come in a formal letter, or a raise, and sometimes it seems like not at all.

But when the appreciation does come it’s that much sweeter because it’s in the form of tiny hugs and wet kisses, the sound of “Mama” and a little fingers clasping yours. It’s the warmth of a baby asleep against your chest because she wouldn’t sleep anywhere else.

Being a mother is the hardest job in the world.

And the best.

Leighann

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Walking to End MS

I don’t usually post on weekends.

So this MUST be important.

It is.

This is about MS.

Multiple Sclerosis.

Not one, but two of my family members have/are experiencing the debilitating effects of MS. This means their family members are also experiencing the challenges, heartache, confusion, and unanswered questions that come with this disease.

Sunday, May 29, 2011 I am walking in support of MS.

In support of my family.

I am asking for your support.

To help find an answer to this complex disease that is diagnosed most often in people ages 15-40

I am asking for your support.

To help find a cure.

Below is the link to my donation page.

Thank you in advance!

http://msofs.mssociety.ca/2011WALK/Sponsor.aspx?&PID=1295174&L=2

Leighann

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