My Walls

I love looking at what people do to

make their home their home.

Home is maybe my favourite word.

It means something different to every single person in the world.

I love my home.

So many things make up what home means to me,

but this post is about the artwork

I decorate my home with.

We don't have tons of money,

but that has never stopped me from decorating

my home exactly how I want.

There is something immensely satisfying about

hanging something on your wall that you love.

Take a peek at the art I've put on my walls...

I had a big space to fill, and no money with which to fill it.

This is a huge canvas, which I got on sale at Giant Tiger.

I love it because it matches the rest of my living room perfectly,

and it's super nice for $20, no?

I've had these paintings since high school, when I fell in love

with the Canadian artist William Rafuse.

The pictures are a little close together, but the previous owners

left nails that made me put them up this way.

Ah, the art in my kitchen. This group of four just makes me happy.

Two more Rafuse paintings (the waiter and waitress)

Top Left - "Eat, Drink, Be Merry" a $10 purchase from the One of a Kind Show

Bottom Right - "Bottle Collection", Artist Unknown

 My tea lady! I love her.

She was a gift from my mom, and she sits, drinking her tea in my kitchen as well.

Our hallway is small - so these photo's had to be taken from the side.

Left - Moulin Rouge, Artist Unknown. Bought at Value Village for $2, with frame!

Right - My own photographs.

 (From Left - The cutest baby in the entire world. Bird on tree, taken at our old place in Effingham. 

A group of telephone booths, taken in Edinburgh, Scotland. Sheep in doorway, taken in the Highlands of Scotland. "Be a Legend" window shot, taken in Edinburgh, Scotland.)

Putting up your own stuff is the best.

A wise man that Andy Warhol.

This gem sits above our doorway out to the world,

with an important life lesson.
5 bells from Winner's! 

I am a big font & wine fanatic,

so this piece does well to satisfy both of those loves.

$10 from a liquidation store!

 Another one of my own, in our entrance way.

Door in Dublin, Ireland. One of my absolute favourites.

I always wanted one of these over done country stars.

When we were out East, I looked everywhere and couldn't find one,

so my husband's aweome Aunt & Uncle did, and lugged it all the way from Nova Scotia for me.

Below it is my husband's pride and joy - his avocado tree.

Welcome to my home, stop by anytime!

(Well don't actually, text me first. I need time to clean up.)

xo BM

Bodacious Smooth White

If I can give anyone advice on anything,

it's on the subject of vino.

If you like wine as much as I do (which is, like, a lot)

check back in on Thursdays for what I'm drinking,

and what you should be drinking too!

Reds, whites, rose, sparkling, vintage, newbies, ports...

I don't discriminate.

Today's Pick:

Bodacious Smooth White

Blend of Pinot Grigio, Riesling & Moscato

I'm on a white wine kick lately - usually I'm more about the Reds,

but there are some fantastic Whites out there deserving of my love.

The best Whites are the blends,

and this one is a blend of 3 - which is totally delish.

It's on the sweeter side, due to the Pinot Grig/Riesling mix,

so it's a perfect sipper, no food necessary.

I'm not going to pretend I know what Moscato is.

(In my head I'm pronouncing it like a rich, 

old Italian lady would sort of pronounce mosquito)

It's cheap too - I rarely, if ever spend more than $13 on a bottle of wine.

So drink up friends,

and have a Bodacious-ly good weekend.

(Get it?)

Labour & Delivery

Okay, so when I'm a Mom, I guess I have really good intentions of 

starting a blog, and then promptly run out of ideas and

stare at the post screen for a month and have, literally,

nothing to write about.

So - because I'm still feeling quite a large writer's block, 

I've decided to write about my birth story (how new age of me, I know)

because it seems a lot of people (read women)

are quite interested in how "it" all went down.

_______________________

It's my 29th birthday. Not just your ordinary 29th birthday either,

this was my champagne birthday (turning 29 on the 29th).

I am 8 days overdue, feeling enormous and so cranky,

because being like this is not how I envisioned my champagne birthday, at all.

My husband and I and some friends decide to go to the movies,

which, let me say - was a terrible idea.

I was not feeling well all day, more than just typical pregnancy stuff, 

but less than actual labour stuff. 

Either way - sitting in a movie theatre,

in those tiny seats not built for a woman who is 5'10 and crazy pregnant, was torture.

We went out for froyo afterwards, and I was not pleasant.  

We left shortly after to save my friends from my grumpiness, and I 

waddled over to the pizza place beside the yogurt shop, 

picked up a "pity party" pizza, and we went home.

My husband and I played yahtzee. I was not feeling well, and he kept saying

"do you think this is it? Like do you think you might be in labour?"

To which I kept replying, "Nooooo." I was really scared about going into labour,

so I was in denial for a long time.

We went to bed, and at 1AM, I woke up with rather excruciating pain.

Went to the bathroom - and well, my water broke.

Fast forward 6 hours of beginning labour pain at our home,

lots of breathing and yelling and crying. Chris was a trooper -

keeping track of my contractions with his phone app.

We called our midwife who told me to sit tight, and not go to the hospital,

(she wanted me to take a "nice, relaxing bath" - let me tell you, that did not happen).

and at 8AM we all decided it was time to go.

Being in labour at the hospital before you get to your room is really awkward.

You have to register when you first get there, so Chris and I are literally standing

in line while I am having contractions and everyone, EVERYONE - is staring at me.

I'm getting sympathetic smiles from old women in front of me 

(who I wanted to kill at the time, stop smiling at me!)

There was a Tim Horton's kiosk right beside the registration area, 

and while people are ordering coffee, they are also getting a good one woman pregnancy show.

The registration area asks you all kinds of rediculous questions,

like what my religion is and what my midwife's last name is. 

(I HAVE NO CLUE! 

I have something dripping down my leg and I am in crazy amounts of pain.

Buddist? McLovin?)

We finally made it to the labour and delivery area.

After a rather awful exam, and some wait time,

I am FINALLY allowed to go to my private room and lay down.

 And now we wait.

And by wait, I mean - have "kill me now" contractions every few minutes for...

19 hours.

NINETEEN HOURS. The pain could have been in a Game of Thrones torture scene.

No exaggeration - contractions are the absolute worst thing I have ever experienced.

After 19 hours,

I was given the greatest thing ever offered me - an epidural.

(Side bar - oh em gee. Get an epidural. You ladies who don't are amazing,

but I do not see the point of going through labour without one.)

Once I had an epidural, my labour was a BREEZE.

It was actually a wonderful experience.

5 hours post epidural however, we are told that my baby is not moving

into the right position, and I will most likely need to have a c-section.

I am devestated, because after all this time, and pain, and investment -

I wanted to have him the good old fashioned way. 

I cried, and the Doctor agreed to wait one more hour.

Very luckily, my baby moved into position within that hour,

and 26 labour hours and 6 pushes later (with the Doctor playing 

with my son's mohawk during the pushes...),

 at 1:53AM August 31-

 BRENNAN WAS FINALLY HERE.

I could never explain what it's like to see your baby for the first time,

but it's not a feeling I will ever forget.

The mixture of relief, love, nervousness, pure joy - is overwhelming.

It's a high you will never experience any other way.

_______________________

Remembering this time brings up so many emotions -

especially as I sit here with my nearly 6 month old son

playing at my feet.

Having a baby is a crazy trip.

And now I have to go because he literally just threw up everywhere.

xo Blond Momshell

The F Word

While you do have to worry about the real "F" word

when you have kids, I think most parents, (moms especially)

will understand that the F word I'm really referring to here is...

FORMULA.

Holy crap - what a bad word that remains to be

in mom circles. (Which is one of the myriad of reasons

I have yet to join a "mom circle").

The pure torture that was breast feeding at the beginning

of my life as a mother was *brutal*.

As soon as I popped out the baby,

literally a 1/2 hour later nurses were grabbing at me,

forcing my sweet new son to attempt to "latch",

giving me absolutely no control over my own body,

and making my son scream and cry.

(Or maybe that was me?)

Fast forward 5 days later, and I was a very content

breast feeding mom.  I actually really enjoyed

breast feeding, as it was rather easy once

my body started acting more like a cow.

However - my son didn't really gain any weight.

And I hated breast feeding in public, or around anyone really.

It was kind of stressful, and after 3 months of the ol' breasticles,

my body decided it had had enough and we were left

with formula as the only option to nourish the boy.

Oh. Em. Gee.

Formula is amazing!

Get this - I'm not chained to my baby anymore! YAYYYY!

My husband can feed him - everyone can feed him!

He gained lots of weight, continues to be extraordinarily happy,

and doesn't seem to be suffering any brain damage or

death due to formula (which, is like, totally a thing. EYE ROLL.)

Something I've learned - 

don't let other people dictate how you will raise your child!

Breast feeding is ah-maz-ing. 

So is formula!

Do what is RIGHT FOR YOU and YOUR baby.

Now, I'm off to pour myself a glass of cab/merlot

while my son formula feeds like a champ.

Success!

xo Blond Momshell