Children we see in our everyday lives are going to bed hungry, attending school without breakfast and eating what they can from the local food banks which are gravely in need of imperishable foods. These children don’t have clothing acceptable for the harsh Canadian winters or are not able to afford uniforms required for some school districts.

One out of six: that’s four of my son’s classmates. Four children I see on a daily basis that are unable to receive the very basic care that a child is entitled.

BlogHers Act Canada is participating in Blog Action Day 2008, please stop by and show your support!

xox

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You never really know what you had until it’s gone. It’s so unbelievably true; when relationships die it’s extremely painful. My two best friends and I were inseparable during high school I even lived with both of them for a short time when things were rough at home. We experienced many of our firsts together, but when we separated at the time of going off to college things changed. Our lives headed in different directions and as much as we tried to stay together, it just wasn’t happening. The two of them remained inseparable while I was left entirely pushed aside. Though our relationship had gone through some serious bumps, one of them was still my Maid of Honour when Mike and I wed. Though, when she married a couple months later and I was expecting Carter, things changed.

That phone call and the one that followed, I’ll never forget. My heart was broken and I knew then I had lost the friend I considered a sister. When she announced that she was getting married, I too shared with her that I was expecting. We were happy for each other and giddy with anticipation as we discussed our futures, her wedding plans and our anticipated baby names. Just a few days later, she called me to discuss wedding stuff where she mentioned to me that she now didn’t want me to stand up as her Bridesmaid because I was going to be seven months pregnant at the time of the wedding. Being that it was in July she assumed that I would not be able to tolerate the amount of standing and walking that would take place.

As she tried to convince me that this was the best thing for me, I was weeping. I was so disappointed and heart broken as I knew that this was where our relationship was ending and there was nothing I could do about it.

A few months later, after her wedding, when I was in the hospital after giving birth, she called to wish us best, which I was grateful for. But after that I rarely heard from her; she’s never met Carter. Our relationship is very much a thing of the past and I am pretty certain that it’s not ever going to be the same.

It’s so painful. Heart wrenchingly painful.

I never thought that I would really have friends like that again. You know the ones? Where you can share absolutely everything and not even think twice about what comes out of your mouth? The ones that don’t judge you if you’re unshowered, teeth aren’t brushed and can laugh with until you cry?

That was until the weekend. When I finally met them while we traveled to BlogHer Reach Out in Boston.

This weekend I laughed until I cried so much it still hurts. My heart aches now that we’ve gone back to our regular routine, and I feel as though a part of me has left with them and I’m dying to see them again.

I’m looking for a swing jacket.

Okay, I’m looking for a couple of them. Denim, wool, canvas…

Yes, they’re everywhere lately, but not when you’re pushing plus size. Those jackets? Those are difficult to find. I just don’t know that there is a flattering version of this jacket for larger midriff women. Every one that I’ve tried on seems to increase my size about twofold. I am on a mission and I will not fail.

OMG!! Overstock.com is now shipping to Canada! I nearly jumped off the couch when I saw that while googling for the above picture.

*ahem*

So while perusing the malls today looking for said coveted jacket I wandered into a couple plus size stores; checked out a couple pairs of pants and some shirts while I searched and I was shocked to see the price of the clothes. In comparison: a layering t-shirt from Old Navy? About 12 bucks. A similar shirt from the plus sized store? 25 bucks. Granted the stores may be owned by different chains and have different suppliers, blah, blah, blah.. but these shirts were not that different aside from the price.

I came home and vented to Mike about the cost of the clothes and how it’s not fair.

His response?

It’s expensive to be fat.

*blink*

[stare]

*blink, blink*

Well, more material makes the clothes more expensive. We eat more food and our health sucks.

*blink*

Oh, the logic.

EDITED TO ADD: I don’t think he was really referring to me and my fat. Just fat in general.

:::

So, Friday morning - bright and freakin’ early - though, I’ll probably STILL be up from the night before, my girl Karen and Double Agent Girl will be swinging by my pad to pick up Hudson and I and then head out on a road trip to Boston for the BlogHer Reach Out in our swanky sponsored Saturn Hybrid Vue from GM. We’ve planned to race coordinated a safe and quick journey from here to Boston and hope to get there just in time for dinner with our other girls Motherbumper and HerBadMother! who’ve got the Aura.

I’ll let you know who wins the race. I’m banking on us, though those two mothers are quite badass, we may have our work cut out for us.

Good thing we’re travelling in a hybrid or my fat ass just may have brought down our fuel efficiency.

Style and trends and not my forte. Not by a long shot; I’ve always been a t-shirt and jeans kinda gal. Can’t help it, I wasn’t raised by fashion conscious people, I lived in the sticks and now? I just suck.

There. I said it. I suck.

I will never be Stacey London. (Stacey. I love you. CALL ME! I could desperately use your advice. Yes, you can bring Clinton along…)

I’ve been trying, slowly to become a little more daring with my hairstyle (I figured I’d start there) since I typically wear my hair up in a messy bun. (Typically? Read: ALWAYS) and threw in some highlights, then lowlights, then chunky lights. I cut off seven inches and now? Now I am thinking a medium length angled bob with…

*deep breath*

…

*exhale*

…

BANGS.

I haven’t had bangs since I was eight years old. I remember how painful it was growing them out then, but hell, I was EIGHT. What the hell did I know about cute clips, headbands and whatever.

(Ya, still don’t know. But I can learn!)

I’ve slowly been working towards this. I went from all one length, to fringe, then side swept bangs… now I figure it’s time to go all out.

Bangs.

Wow.

My last cut I went for this Jessica Simpson-like shoulder length cut (removing seven inches of hair!!!)

I really liked it, but it just wasn’t styled like this (ever) and looked cute, but child-like cute.

I’m thinking maybe the same blunt cut at the bottom, but Reese-like bangs??

My natural colour is an ash blonde, which is not so favourable since it just looks greasy and washed out. (which it’s not really because I do occasionally shower.) It’s not the bright, white/ash blonde it was as a child. Seriously, I wish I had photos… it was like this:

(I was cuter though, sorry kid. It’s true)

Now? Not so much…. so I’m going darker - about a shade darker than my natural colour and with chunky blonde highlights randomly throughout.

I can invision it, I just pray it works. I know, it’s just hair and it’ll grow back (but! Not before Friday when I leave for the BlogHer ReachOut Tour in Boston. *wOOt*)

(But more to come on that later.)

My appointment’s on Monday morning and I’m still unsettled on whether or not I go with bangs.

*sigh*

Then? After? Shop.

(Maybe something coordinating for baby and me?)

I desperately need pants since the only jeans that fit at maternity and I’m nearly FIVE FUCKIN’ MONTHS postpartum. I have no idea where to start because, like I said: I HAVE NO FASHION SENSE.

Are flares still in?

Do I have to succumb to the ’skinny jeans’?

What about boot cuts? Does that mean I need some heels?

Mah brainz r swirling with the ideaz.

Maybe I’ll just wear my pink crocs.