Who I Am

I'm playing along with MamaKat in her weekly Writer's Workshop. She provides the prompts and we provide the writing.

The Prompt:

Write a poem describing who you are and/or who you are not.

When I wake up, I am comatose
I am a hand that slaps off the alarm
I am the foot that nudges my husband to get up
I am the zombie that brushes my teeth
I am running late

When I hit the kitchen, the switch has been flicked
I am a multi-tasker
I am the short-order cook
I am the fastest diaper changer, backpack-packer you've ever seen
I am a well oiled machine

When I get behind the wheel, I am Zen
I am lost in my head, lost in my internal daily planner
I am the voice that repeatedly tells Will to quit playing with the window
I am the voice that sings Sesame Street
I am the eyes in the rear-view mirror admiring my boys

When I get to the school, I am melancholic
I am sad to say goodbye
I am proud of where they are
I am the appearance of a Wonder Woman
I am putting on a good show, thanks to my well-behaved boys

Now I am alone.
Now I don't know who I am.
Without the chores.
Without the boys.
Without the husband.
Without the clock.
Who am I?

I am not afraid.
I am not depressed.
I am not bored.
I am not restless.
I am not searching.
I am not unsatisfied.

I am entering a new chapter
I am figuring it out
I am thankful to have this chance
I am going to take care of myself
I am determined to carve out my spot
I am on the path
I am proud
I am confident

When it's 2pm, I am Mom again
I am my children.

But I never forget that tomorrow at 10, I will work at figuring out who Stacey is, again.



This meme was brought to you by MamaKat's Writer's Workshop.

Crockpots & Anti-Sexy-Time with David Letterman

I'm playing along with MamaKat in her weekly Writer's Workshop. She provides the prompts and we provide the writing.

1.) What's cooking in YOUR crockpot?

I have two favourite go-to's for crockpot meals. You can find both on my new recipe blog at Willowjak Kitchen Party, where I'll be re-posting some of my favourite recipe bloggers, as well as my own. Both are chicken dishes. One is so simple, I feel like I'm cheating to call it a recipe.

Salsa Chicken

large jar of medium spiced salsa (or you can make your own with tomatoes, peppers, onion, cilantro)

4 chicken breasts

1 cup light sour cream

...umm, yeah. That's it.

I slow cook them together for 4-6 hours. 15 minutes before serving, I add the sour cream to cream up the sauce and it takes the bite out of the spice.

Serve over bed of rice.

Canadian Version of Indian Butter Chicken

2 tbsp butter
1 cup chopped onions
2 tsp minced garlic
1 tbsp grated gingerroot
1 tsp chili powder
1/2 tsp turmeric
1/4 tsp ground cinnamon
1 can diced, undrained tomatoes
2 tbsp tomato paste
1 tbsp brown sugar
salt and pepper
1 whole rotisserie chicken, skin removed and meat cut up
1/3 cup light cream
1/4 cup light sour cream or plain yogurt
1 tbsp minced fresh cilantro

I mix all ingredients EXCEPT for cream, sour cream and cilantro.
Simmer in slow cooker for 4-6 hours.
15 minutes before serving, add remaining ingredients.
Serve over rice.
MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM!!!!!

2.) Find one of your very favourite pictures of Summer and write a poem about it.

When Jake was born, he was our world.
He still is. But he's risen UP.
Sometimes out of our reach.
His childlike innocence slipped out of our grasp
too soon.
He's a big brother now.
Brother to two very needy little persons.
Who look UP to him.
There may come a day when they will look to him
as a guardian.
Responsibility so great.
A grown-up too soon.
A brother so beautiful. And kind. Loving and lovable.

I wish there were more summer days like this.
When he could fly high above the world.
Leaving his future responsibilities below.
When I look UP, I see him laugh without abandon.
The laughter of a little boy.
Who has not yet had to look UP. Or forward.

4.) When I look in the mirror...

I see a blur because I don't have time to study my own self.
I see tired.
I see aging.
I see scared.
I see worry.
I see blue eyes that were never young.
But then a child appears beside me
and now I see a fierceness
I see passion.
I see a Mama Bear.
I see faith.
I see hope.
I see beauty.
I see my blue eyes in the child beside me.
I see my legacy.

5.) The top ten things I'd rather be doing than having sexy-time with David Letterman

1. Cleaning the base of my toilet with a toothbrush (I have 4 boys in the house)

2. Cleaning my pug's ears out or 'expressing' her anal glands

3. Scraping the dead skin from my my grandmother's feet

4. Teaching my boys how to blow their nose

5. Talking to my creditors

6. Listening to Owen and Will grind their teeth

7. Counting fruit flies in my kitchen

8. Eating cow tongue with brussel sprouts

9. Having my teeth scraped at the dentist

10.  Talk some more about Michael Jackson's life and death

This meme was brought to you by MamaKat's Writer's Workshop.

Writer's Workshop: Back to School & Speechless

1st Day of School.

I can't believe the day has come. For four years I have dreaded this day. For four years I have shoved it to the back of my mind and pretended it would never come. For four years I carried the faint hope that by this time, Owen and Will might be among the few who are "no longer distinguishable among their neuro-typical peers" and that they would enter the first grade with smiles of excitement. That tonight, the night before their first day, they might be helping me to pack their backpacks, or arguing over what outfit they want to wear, all while chattering about their hopes of finding one true friend that they will play with for the whole school year and maybe even for all their school years to come.

But that is not to be. Another milestone and another dream has faded away. Or at least, it has been postponed.

I am still excited for my boys. I am hopeful that this year will be one filled with new possibilities, with the acquisition of new skills and the forging of new friendships. I hope that they learn to get excited about going every morning, that they find that friend whose face they will look forward to seeing every day.

I pray that my fears are just the product of a typical mom who is over-thinking and paranoid. I worry that at this new school there will be no familiar face that Owen and Will can turn to when they feel anxious or afraid. That they won't understand where they are, or that I will be coming back for them at the end of the day. I worry that Will's language will not be understood by anyone, that when he says "are you okay?" someone will understand that he is trying to tell them that he has hurt himself and needs a mommy kiss to make it all better. I fear that Owen's quiet, sometimes-complacent personality doesn't leave him ignored and left to sit on his own in a corner, or that Will's anxiety-driven OCD doesn't cause his staff to think he's acting defiant. I pray that my boys are treated with compassion, understanding, a willingness to figure them out and a determination to raise them up to meet their optimum potential.

If they could only speak, I would not worry so. They could tell me how things went during their day. They could speak up if they felt they weren't being treated fairly. They could talk through their own fears with me on this night.

If only's won't do any of us any good. But I am grateful to have this place to write it out. So that tomorrow morning when I drop off my boys, I can leave them with a smile, after having left my fears on this keyboard. God knows I have sensitive little boys who pick up on every emotion that floats around them. They don't need my fears to add to their own.

So best of luck to all of the other little kiddos out there who are starting, or returning back to school. But most of all, my prayers are with all moms and dads who will be worrying too.



As a footnote, I discovered that today MamaKat is hosting a Writer's Workshop with the prompt "First Day Of". Today should qualify. Today is the first day of a new chapter. Check on Mama's Losin' Itto see what some other bloggers are up to.

Catchy Slogans & Jingles

They just don't make commercials like they used to.

Do you remember when the jingles or slogans to a commercial were so universally recognized that you could repeat the slogan and everyone would instantly know what you were referring to?

- where's the beef? (Wendy's)
- it's the big chunk of fudge! (Oh! Henry)
- I've fallen and I can't get up! (Medic Alert)
- Mikey likes it! (Life cereal)
- This is your brain on drugs
- it melts in your mouth, not in your hand (M&M's)
- finger lickin' good (Kentucky Fried Chicken)

What is it about these commercials that make me feel so good? If I was rational about it, I would see that it has nothing to do with their awesome direction, writing, acting, etc. I think it's just my nostalgia for a time when I had nothing better to do than watch tv and memorize slogans. There is something to be said for the catchy commercials. They're timeless.

"I'd like to buy the world a Coke..."


"I don't want to grow up, I'm a Toys R Us kid..."


"my bologna has a first name, it's O-S-C-A-R..."


And remember the California Raisins?

This assignment was hosted by Mama Kat's Writer's Workshop at Mama's Losin' It.

I will never forget

"Lonely rivers flow to the sea,
to the sea
to the open arms of the sea
lonely rivers sigh 'wait for me, wait for me'
I'll be coming home wait for me"
- I will never forget Jonathan's 17 year old voice singing Unchained Melody to me on a cassette (you can laugh- I still do).
My 'don't forget me' mixed tape for our separation while he spent a summer in Switzerland.

I spent a year in the dark.
At least a year in bed, not wanting to see anyone, not wanting to talk to anyone.
Wishing I could sleep my life away.
For two years, I crawled in all of my dreams.
I watched everyone run ahead of me, while I dragged my knees through the dirt.
- I will never forget the morning I woke up and realized that in my last dream,
I was running again

They were so ugly that they were the cutest things we had ever seen.
A handful of wriggly wrinkles and slobbery kisses.
Stephanie went home with the sleepy-eyed, Penelope,
Jonathan and I went home with the pug-on-coke, Matilda.
We paid an outrageous amount of money and
15 minutes into the drive home with our new family..
- I will never forget my shock with the realization that little worms were crawling out
of my darling, new, little pug's butt

Remember this?
Jake was five, his brothers were three.
He tried and tried, but he got no love from Owen. He'd try to cuddle. He'd try to hug.
He'd make funny faces. He'd bring them their favourite things. He'd mimic the therapists
and me to try and coax some acknowledgment from O.
One night he found the magic button and the result was a bear hug
from his ordinarily-cold brother.
- I will never forget the look of sheer joy of Jacob's face when he turned his beautiful face to me
and said "Mommy!!! Owen loves me! He really loves me!"

Nellie was a beautiful soul.
She was absolutely selfless and had an innocent heart that opened up to everyone she met.
My nan let me stroke the fine skin on the top of her hands
and she'd use her hands to carefully scrape exactly half a tin of DelMonte fruit cups
for our bed-time snack.
My Nanna loved me and never once made me feel bad about myself.
She made me want to be a better person.
- I will never forget the moment my Nan took her last breath and the feeling that she took a piece of all of us with her when she left.

I peed on a stick. It turned blue.
I was no longer one. Now I was two.
The second time, I felt like there were five.
An ultrasound said there were two.
I felt the tumbles, the rolls, the hiccups, the pokes and the kicks
and I longed for those sensations when all was still.
- I will never forget the mixed emotions I felt when each of my babies were placed in my arms for the first time. Fierce joy and calm. Intense love and fear. Because I already missed knowing it was just me and them. And now I had to share and expose them to the world.

This assignment was hosted by Mama Kat's Writer's Workshop at Mama's Losin' It.