Take a chance on you

So do you know what today is?

It’s national take a chance day.

Now I know there seems to be a bleeding day to celebrate everything, but in this instance I think this is a little something worth getting behind. We should all have a crack at chasing our dreams. Mark Twain said:

Tonight I will be performing stand-up comedy in a local club and watching a group of first-timers who have spent the past six weeks writing, working and sweating on their first ever comedy sets. Tonight is their big debut and I’m so excited for all of them, to watch them take the stage and take a chance on life.
All too often we listen to the little critics in our head that tell us to quit. These guys are not doing that I’m proud of them for living life full throttle.

Just to hammer home the live your life like it’s golden sentiment, here’s a video from the eloquent Prince EA, who says it so much better than me. Have a good day – may you step out of your comfort zone…go on, surprise yourself.

And if that doesn’t do it for you, let Abba remind you:

Would you rather be a Demi-God or a mortal?

On Sunday my son and I (boisterous being number one) embarked on our third crack at the Vancouver Sun Run. For those of you not in rain city, the Sun Run is one of the largest 10kms run/walks in the world. Before I go any further, let it be known that old Yifof is not much of a runner. I’m more of a happy shuffler. The Sun Run is right up my alley, because it welcomes people from all walks of life and abilities to lace up their runners and get involved. This annual tradition that me and my boy started is something that I look forward to year-round. Not only is it a splendid run, taking in the beauty of Vancouver, but for ten kilometres, running, walking and wheezing amongst thousands of other people, my son and I get to chat.

One on one.

The banter we share keeps our momentum and spirits up, and as a mother who can get bogged down with the day-to-day minutiae, I get to focus on my son. This year as we ran and walked, stopping only for water breaks and to high-five supporters lining the road, our topic of conversation was the Greek Gods. I have to say, not my first choice, simply because I know naff all about them, but as we pounded the pavement, I got a blow by blow account of these legends. The vast volume of information that my son has on these Gods, Demi-Gods and their offspring is staggering. For 10 kilometres he regaled me with tales of Poseidon and Athena and every other mythological being in between. Hearing about the Gods high-jinks From the unique perspective of a ten year-old kid is enthralling and hilarious all at the same time. This, all whilst soaking up the marvellous atmosphere of a collective experience.

What I love about the Sun Run is that it not only gives you a great view of our city, it also brings people together. All to often Vancouver gets a bad rap for being snobby, clicky and filled with pockets of communities that don’t mix. Some might say that as a city, it operates like an overgrown high school, where each group keeps to themselves. But on Sun Run day, all guards are dropped and every one gets into the spirit of a shared experience. All kinds of people line the roads to cheer-lead the participants. My boy and I saw some fabulous sights. People sitting in lawn chairs, sipping mimosas and encouraging the runners on with “Cheers!” and champagne. The sheer number of people who rise early on a Sunday morning to hold signs, offer support and soak up the vibe of a shared human experience, uplifted my soul in a way that is hard to put into words. Such moments are hard to come by. So I’d like to give a shout out to the people from all over the Lower Mainland who took the time to create this little slice of magic: The runners, the walkers, the cheering crew, the volunteers.  We really enjoyed the signs. We couldn’t take pictures of all of them, but here’s a couple:
 

Of course this next sign was totally up Yifof’s alley:

And when we crossed the finish line, how about this for a sight for sore legs:

These fellas from Resource Works Society had the genius idea of cleverly marketing their cause in a cute package (pun intended).  Smart move. Get sweaty housewives falling into your arms, then alert them of your cause. Because they’re the ones who have the kids, and they are really the ones who have any bloody chance of saving our planet. So today on  World Earth Day, I salute the Natural Runners and their quest to get people talking  about how to use BC’s natural resources sustainably.  Check out their website for more information here: http://www.resourceworks.com/

On Monday an article was published on Buzzfeed that says a recent Stats Canada survey found Vancouver to be the unhappiest city in Canada. I disagree. After taking part in the Sun Run I know this city is so much more than melancholy hipsters. Maybe the naysayers, and indeed  all of us should try and put a little bit more sun-run spirit into our everyday lives.

A Celebrity TP Delivery and friendship pride

On Friday night I went to a party at Michael Buble’s house. That’s right, THE Michael Buble. Whilst I was at the party, my friend and I went to the bathroom, but there was no toilet paper.
Who do you think came to our TP aid?
That’s right, Mr. Michael Buble himself. He delivery a fresh stash of loo roll to us, personally.
So now I guess, my claim to fame is that Michael Buble helped wipe my arse.
Metaphorically speaking of course, because otherwise….Ewwwww.
But being at Michael Buble’s house and the TP Incident was not the highlight of my evening.
The reason why I was attending this great party is because it was the book launch for Michael’s little sister, Brandee. She just released her first children’s book, ‘O’Shae the Octopus’.

I gotta tell you, I couldn’t be more proud to know this fabulous and talented lady.
I first met Brandee, seven years ago when our oldest kids were in pre-school and our first conversation is forever etched in my brain.
At the time, I was pregnant with boisterous being number three (the other two were only three and one years-old and yes, before you ask, I was fucking busy).
Our family had just recently moved to a new neighbourhood and so I was isolated and lonely.
So one day as I was going to collect my son from pre-school, (pregnant, pushing a stroller and feeling sorry for myself) I bumped into Brandee.
We struck up a conversation. As we walked along, chatting away, I thought to myself “fuck it, I’m just gonna be myself….I am going to say…the ‘F’ word”.
So I did.
And guess what happened?
In the very next sentence Brandee dropped an ‘F’ bomb too!
She also told me that her brother was Michael Buble. But to be honest, I was just so happy that she took the ‘F’ bomb baton and ran with it, I couldn’t have given two hoots that her brother was an international music superstar. And suddenly, after that walk I didn’t feel so alone in my new neighbourhood.
Over the past seven years I have watched Brandee’s journey unfold. I have watched how she has never stopped believing in her special and unique children’s stories, striving to get them just right. So to see her publish her first book is a wonderful thing indeed.

O’Shae the Octopus is a great little book for kids. It’s all about O’Shae (named after Brandee’s son), an octopus who instead of having eight arms, has been blessed with ten.
It’s a beautifully illustrated book and has the most wonderful message.
It is so cool to see Brandee get her dream come to life, because, she is just such a great person.
Cos if you’re uber talented AND don’t flinch around the odd ‘F’ bomb, then you’re a legend in my world. If you have any boisterous beings in your life, be sure to pick them up a copy.
So while it was nice to be gifted TP by a celebrity so that I wasn’t forced to drip-dry, it was a far bigger triumph to watch Brandee bask in her much-deserved glory.
Well done Brandee! I wish you, your book and this amazing author journey you’re on every success…Cos, you know what?…You fucking deserve it all x

Mum, Mom, Mamma…No matter how you say it, it’s all just shorthand for unconditional love.

Happy mother’s Day Y’all.
I love Mother’s Day.
Especially now.
Now that I’m a mother myself to the three boisterous beings, I truly appreciate what it means to be a Mum.
Motherhood is the best – and hardest journey you’ll ever get to experience.
From the moment you know that you’re having a baby, it’s like the axis of the world shifts slightly.
From then on, every decision, you make with your child(ren) in mind.
You second guess every. little. thing.
You try to be your best self, because there are people depending on you.
Being accountable every minute of the day ‘ain’t easy.
Not every woman who gives birth knows what it is to be a mother. Not every woman puts her kids first.
Not all mothers sacrifices their wants, in favour of their kids needs.
But I’m not here to preach, or judge on the women who just don’t get it. Not stepping up to the mother plate is their loss.
I can’t identify with their journey, because in the Mum department, I struck gold.
Fuck, who am I kidding…I am infinitely-beyond-words-lucky.
Because fate dealt me a Mum who is there for me. She always has been.
Someone who I can count on, no matter what I get right, what I do wrong.
A woman who taught me to go out and seize life.
To chase my dreams and stick two fingers up to all the negative nelly’s.
She knows just what words to say to cheer me up.
She knows damn right that the best solution to life’s ridiculous bits is to giggle like a hyena at the sheer absurdity of it all.
Having a mother that cares, someone who’s ‘got your back’ – is priceless.
It’s worth more than anything in this material world.
FACT.
If you’re fortunate enough to have a mum who is all of that to you, too, then I’d say you’re damn lucky.
Often, in this crazy mixed up world, we don’t take the time out of our day to tell the people who really love us just how much we care.
So today, I’m bellowing it loud and proud.
Thanks Mum.
Thanks for being there from the start. Heck, thanks for always being there. For being my cheerleader. For guiding me. For having my best interests at heart.
Thanks for showing me that a strong woman is allowed to cry. Thanks for showing me that sometimes, when life gives you lemons, say “fuck ’em all” and laugh instead. Thanks for staying up, all those sleepless nights, from babyville, to me coming-home-at-the-crack-of-dawn in my twenties. Thanks for cuddling me when I was sick. For lifting me back up to the light when I had a broken heart. Most of all, thanks for showing me that unconditional love is the most precious thing we can ever feel.
I love you Mum…You’re the best.
So with that sentiment in mind, check out this little Mums-are-awesome message below. Get yer hanky.

Week Two

 

So this week I’m Queen of the Grumps. Not just a little bit grumpy, slightly pissed off or mildly moody. No, I’m in full-on, ‘Don’t fucking fuck with me mode.’ Nah, pretty it ain’t. I make the Grinch look like the Dalai Lama. What has prompted this bout of “Severely fucked-offitis”? Who knows. I think it could be due to many reasons. The weather (fuck it’s cold), being home too much, no fucking exercise, eating shite, very shite food…being a white, western, moany bitch. And finally, I think it is cos I miss people on Facebook. Really. I miss hearing little funny comments from people. I don’t miss hearing people whining about their fucked up lives (As you can see I’ve got the whining part covered myself, thanks very much) but I did have a sizable amount of friends who were fucking hilarious, who wrote funny shite and would make me chuckle heartily in the most inappropro places.

So now, I clearly need to go get my connection on in other ways. The world of research is divided on how Facebook can make you feel. Some say it boosts a feeling of connection, others say all the bragging, pictures of yourself in a bikini, (who cares that the pic was ten years ago, pre-kids and divorce etc.), makes your friends feel hopeless, lonely and leaves them with an unhealthy dose of F.O.M.O (Oh how I love a good acronym)…which stands for Fear of missing out syndrome.

So the answer is, if you are still reading, who fucking knows. In my quest to find out, I stumbled on a website:

http://greatergood.berkeley.edu/article/item/feeling_connected_makes_us_kind/

That website says, studies show a sense of connection makes us kind. So maybe that’s why I got the Queen of the Grumps crown this week…Aaaannnd, according to the article if I go off and perform five selfless acts, I will feel better. So I will. I’ll post what I did and the results on the blog. In the meantime, I’ve got six kids coming home after school and my house looks like a World War Two bombsite. Pah. Housework. That is sure to put me in a bad mood, for there is nothing worst that fucking housework. However, I have a cunning plan. I will crank up the groove and funk music, housework be damned. The radio has already belted out Alphabet Street by Prince and now, Donna Summer is doing her best serenade with ‘I’m every woman’. So I’m off to dust those saquatches to oblivion. Laters.