I, for one, prefer maps. I like reviewing the map and writing my directions out by hand. I like to have all exits, turns and distances clocked out and written down for reference. I like to see the big picture.

I love my tech gadgets, but I’ve typically thought of GPS as being too annoying and quite worrisome because well, computers can mess with you sometimes, and I don’t like being messed with while I’m driving – especially in another country.

And I was right.

For our trip to Indiana, my dad offer to lend us his GPS and I agreed thinking that we would use it just as a back-up to the maps.

As a GPS newbie I was unfamiliar with the fact that YOU NEVER USE A GPS IN CONJUNCTION WITH MAPS. Not EVER.

Nor did I know that the stupid wench would repeat herself a billion times.

In 600 meters turn Left onto I69.

Turn left onto I69.

Turn left onto I69.

And! if you decided NOT to listen to the GPS.

Re-calculating….

Re-calculating….

Through Michigan the wench inside the GPS, who we affectionately named “Gretchen” was really pissed at us because we tried to use our maps in conjunction with her and she was having none of that.

You could hear the tone in her voice getting shrill and aggravated with each Re-calculating… as well progressed.

At one point I was sure if she had arms I would be bitched slapped.

The best part? Gretchen telling us to pull an illegal U-turn in the middle of a four lane road. I shit you not.

In 200 meters make a U-turn.

Make a U-turn.

Re-calculating…..

Please follow the highlighted route…

Luckily for the on-coming traffic I used my super human intuition and did NOT do as she said (unlike this dolt), which surely just pissed Gretchen off more.

I was mad at Gretchen.

There was clearly some trust issues between us, but you can’t blame me. I was a little put off by being encourage to commit traffic violations in a foreign country. How would I explain that to a State Trooper?

Sorry officer! My GPS told me to!

Riiight.

But eventually Getchen worked her way into my heart when she brought us full circle back to Target when I restarted her after our stop. She knew we weren’t ready to leave.

I think I hit something when I started the trip back up and Gretchen ended up bringing up full circle around the mall and back to Target. I couldn’t help but laugh even though I was still pissed off at her for her shitty illegal u-turn advice.

But then, in an attempt at redemption, Gretchen detoured me around construction in Indianapolis and got us back to Casey’s house about 10 minutes faster than Casey, which was pretty damn nice of her.

Thanks Gretch!

Now, somewhat in our good books, we decided to forgo the maps all together on the way home leaving ourselves to Gretchen’s devices. She utterly FAILED at getting us to a Chick-Fil-A (pronounced Chick-Flah*) where we were taken to another remote location under construction and instructed to pull another u-turn. Dammit Gretch, you’re really pissing me off. Now you mess with Chick-Flah? You’re a bitch Gretch. A real bitch.

Forgetting Chick-Flah we got back on the Interstate where we were instructed to pull OFF the Interstate and take some back country through Ohio. Again, I was angry that I let Gretchen mess with me.

If the GPS were smart it would know not to mess with a Canadian when it comes to American treats like Target and Chick-Flah.

I was sure this was payback for not listening to her instructions previously, and as we passed house after house, trailer park after trailer park, I knew we were being taken for a ride. Literally. How could a two lane road in Ohio back country with a speed limit of 40 miles be FASTER than the Interstate?

About 45 minutes into our trip through the bowels of Ohio, Hudson shit his pants. We were scared shitless HA! a little worried about stopping anywhere because the broken down abandoned truck-stops and dilapidated houses just screamed cheesy horror movie, where at one point I was convinced we were going to be part of the third installment of Jeepers Creepers. Had it been night time I think I would have peed my pants, because there is truly NOTHING scarier than being in a strange weirdo place when the sun goes down. THAT is when all the creeps come out to play. Unless we were in Jeepers Creepers of course, because that creepy truck driver is all kindsa crazy day or night.

After about 1 million miles of back country (Nice to meet you Ohio!) and a very quick stop to change a diaper (Hudson’s not mine)  we came upon some semblance of humanity as Gretchen decided to take us back to the Interstate, finally.

I’m sure she was thinking: Ha! I fucked your shit up didn’t I? Serves you right. From now on you will heed my direction you stupid Canadian bitches.

But! It was then we realized Gretch was taking us back to MY house and forgetting an all too important drop-off in Strath-Vegas which required a completely different border crossing into Canada.

NIIICE.

At this point I will mention that before we left I was reminded that, by all accounts, I was to avoid Detroit.

Yes, true Ontario snobbery. Detroit is like the sister city to Hamilton or Windsor which “we” have lovingly coined at the armpit (or crotch) of Ontario.

Not only did we drive through Detroit, but I think I saw every abandoned factory and smashed out, tagged building there is in that city. The stereotypical OMG-WTF-am-I-doing-here? Detroit. The only thing missing was Eminem serenading us.

Eventually we made it home without incident. Gretch was packed away to be returned to her rightful owner, and though I never plan on buying one, I now have a soft spot for that self-righteous, cynical bitch Gretchen.

* Yes, I now know that it’s pronounced Chick-Fil-A (just as it’s spelt), you can blame my Canadian accent for the confusion. And! Chick-Flah is more fun. Deal with it.

I’m going through a slump. I don’t know if it’s this lackluster design, my brains or the fact that I’m overwhelmed with other tasks in my life, but I am just not feeling like writing typing here at the moment. I try. I agonize over something to write type. I start, I hate it and throw it in draft before I erase it all together.

I look at my stats and the agony increases. The stats show the suckage and it ain’t pretty people. I could just walk away and work on my other online responsibilities, but I don’t want to. I want this space. I want this space to be fun again! I want to love this space like I used to when I first began. You know the feeling. The one where you half smile and sigh when you open your browser to gaze upon a cute design hosting all your favourite images and stories of your life. People are visiting and commenting and sharing in a part of your life.

Maybe I need just need a hiatus…

In the meantime, here’s a friggin’ cute baby for you gaze upon.

Friday morning us three crazy Canadians and a handsome little baby Hudson piled into my car and made the seven twelve hour trek to Indianapolis where we invaded Casey’s house, ate her food, slept on her couch and kicked The Moosh from her room. In true Canadian fashion, we made ourselves at home the minute we crashed through her front door.

After hanging out with a couple other rowdy Canadians, Casey was truly un-phased by how *cough*classy*cough* we are, and for her to open up her home to “strangers” for the weekend was so very gracious and truly heroic because we are  loud, obnoxious and crass  ladies.

What brought us together? Our favourite preemie, Maddie.

Sunday we participated in the Indy March for Babies which took us on a five mile trek through downtown Indianapolis while we enjoyed the super warm weather and sunshine.

But that was after a truly tragic evening.

Something happened to me this weekend that I have a hard time talking about.

I don’t think I’ve cried this much in months years.

It all started with an all too innocent game of Boogie Super Star.

And ended in this.

In my defense: a) I was copying the dance moves in the game, b) I had NO idea she was filming this hot mess, and c) it made my Hedder laugh so that’s all that matters.

And one more thing? I want to take The Moosh and her mommy home and keep them forever and ever.

When I couldn’t make it to LA for Madeline’s service I was heart broken – still am – but my passport is expired and there’s just no conceivable way I would have gotten it in time to fly there ( us Canadians can’t fly to the US with all our fantasticness without one). In my mind I feel as though I was /am less of a friend because I couldn’t be there in person for Heather and Mike when they needed NEED so much support.

I’ve been wearing purple just about every day, had my nails painted purple, I’ve blogged, created a blog, helped my new home girl Jenn move a blog and re-tweeted more than I ever have in my life, yet I feel like I haven’t done enough. I feel like there is just so much more I can and should be doing.

And in no way am I trying to diminish everything that everyone else has done, no matter how small. The most important thing is that Maddie’s memory is alive. This is strictly about me and only me.

But no matter what I do it will never be enough. I will never replace what they’ve lost. I will never be able to bring Madeline back or take away their pain. I am fighting against an overwhelming current of sadness and tears which I can’t quite manage; instead I tumble and twirl into the eddies just hoping for a mere second where I can break loose and catch a breath before I dive right back in.

Heather and I were emailing back and forth last night when the news came in the mail. I fired back emails about working on moving her blog, Rigby and Mordecai, everything and anything I could babble on about to distract her as she had requested. I wanted nothing more than to be in that living room, take that mail from her hand and tell her it’s okay to wait. Tell her it’s okay to just grieve her loss and not read that painful, painful document. (Because seriously California? You HAVE to come up with a better way of getting a death certificate to grieving parents. You’re on notice Cali. Buck up.)

As much as I didn’t want her to read it, if I were in the same situation, I would have to. All I could do what sit here, at the other end of our wireless, cold, connection as I waited for her to reach out, and thankfully she did. We chatted back and forth about the most mundane things to distract her until the wee hours of my east coast morning, and yet I still feel as though I have failed her and Mike by not being there (because I have a tendency to want to interject myself into situations where I don’t need to be, it’s a habit).

See, totally about me.

One of the most important things we can do, as their community, is keep Maddie’s memory alive. Come the day that the walks have ended, the donations dwindle and it seems as though everything we can do has been done, remember that there is always more: a quick tweet, an email, even a card can mean so much.

Mother’s Day is mere 17 days away.

Father’s Day shortly thereafter.

I don’t know what else to say other than both Mike and Heather’s strength is completely and utterly admirable. Her and Mike both have been so giving throughout this whole ordeal with letting everyone into their lives; letting us grieve their loss along side them, virtually holding hands along the way.

:::

Help convince Hugh Jackman to donate $100, 000 to the March of Dimes in Madeline’s name: here’s how.

I’m heading to Indianapolis Friday with Karen on  to walk along side Casey as we March for Maddie. Casey has been generous enough to put us up for the weekend so long as we ply her with Canadian chocolate, which is pretty damn generous of her.

So please, if you can, donate to support our cause. Even a dollar can go along way because all pledges go towards helping families of babies born too soon or sick. Monies raised helps fund research to find answers for some serious problems that threaten babies just like Maddie Moo.

Things to do, crafts to mock, people to see, websites to finish and on top of all that, there’s the monstrous task of locating and organizing all the Maddie links for March for Maddie (If you’re wanting to help locate links please email me at temptingmamaATgmailDOTcom).

I just can’t seem to find the energy to motivate myself to tackle anything. The past week zapped all of my physical and emotional energies as I tried – still try – to keep all the balls in the air. As I work to keep those balls from falling, I can feel them already beginning to slip ever so slightly that once the syncracy is thrown off I fear the will tumble to the ground.

I am lost in a fog of pain and heartache for my friends.

Three thousand miles never felt so far as it does these past few days.

:::

I return to work in less than 30 days. I am back to a regular 7 – 4 work day and I am so unbelievably conflicted about it which has made it even harder to be happy about getting back to my career.

Not to mention, I haven’t done a damn thing to prepare for it.

OMG, I have so much to do! I don’t even know where to start. Perparing for daycare… where are my boxes of books and personal work ’stuff’? Does my boss even know I’m coming back since I haven’t talked to anyone in about four months!?

Yet, it all seems far too trivial to even care about while my friends have suffered a life altering loss.

Yes, I am exhausted, worn down, lost and confused and just trying to work through it. Humour me, m’kay?

:::

Please DO NOT misconstrue this as me complaining. Though I didn’t know full well what I was getting into as I started March for Maddie, I am HAPPTY to do it. I want to do it. I NEED to do it. I will NOT stop until everything is complete for Mike and Heather. It’s just a touch overwhelming and incredibly sad reading posts after post about sweet Maddie Moo. Plus, there is more going on than just this site I am working on as a gift to Heather and Mike.

Godspeed Little Madeline Moo.

Heather and Mike’s dedications to their beloved daughter Madeline can be viewed at their respective sites. Please, go give them some love and while your on your way, grab a fist full of tissues – you’re going to need them.

There are no words.

In the midst of rallying to support a family who has lost their beloved little girl, another family has realized their worst nightmare.

Shana has lost her handsome infant son, Thalon.

Sweet innocent, precious Thalon, taken far too soon. I am numb. I feel as though this is a sick nightmare I am fighting to wake from. How could this happen? Why?!

Shana has lost her precious new baby Thalon.

Heather has lost her beloved Maddie.

I am at a loss as I salute the universe with a big FUCK YOU. I can’t even fathom the pain, the heartache and loss these two families are feeling.

I know it seems as though I’ve been asking a lot of you this past week, but Please, take a moment to do what you can to help these families with service costs. No parent should ever bear the loss of a child let alone the finanical burdens associated with it.

:::

Services for Madeline will be held on Tuesday, April 14 at 2:30 PM at Old North Church, Forest Lawn, in Hollywood Hills. Please wear purple in honor of Madeline.

:::

Mike & Heather Spohr
11870 Santa Monica Blvd. #106-514
West Los Angeles, CA 90025

(I’ll be back to regular posting again sometime… at the moment, it just doesn’t feel right. xoxox)