The Threat of Liver

I have a confession my son is a picky eater and I have failed at expanding his food horizon. In the past, I scanned every parenting magazine, forum, and sought advice from friends. But nothing seemed to entice him to eat if he didn’t want to eat what was on his plate.

I am also guilty of catering to his whims, and have been known to cook two separate meals. One for him and one for us. However, our last supper turned into a disaster. I had made lasagna, fresh bread, and  salad. What’s not to like?

My son looks at it, picks at it, twists it on his fork, his pleading eyes look at me, “Do I have to eat this?”

“You’re joking, right?”

“I don’t like lasagna!”

“Since when? You ate it without complaint the other week.”

“May I just be excused and go to my room?”

It was with that one question something inside me said, “No! You will sit there and finish it. It’s lasagna and there is nothing gross about it. So eat it.”

“Do I have too? I just don’t like the taste.’

“It tastes like spaghetti.”

“Fine. I’m not eating.”

“Fine. You sit there until it’s eaten.”

My husband looked surprised, my youngest son Robert gobbled his with delight, and Alex sat there with tears welling up in his eyes.

“I just don’t like it!”

“Alex do you even know what gross food is?”


“I don’t think so. How about this? You either eat this lasagna or I go to the store and purchase liver. I will come home and you can help me cook it then you will eat it. It will be then you will discover what gross food is!”

“I’m not eating it!”

“You won’t eat the lasagna then you sit at this table until I get back from the store.”

I went to the entryway, grabbed my keys, my purse, and put on my shoes. My husband looked up pale wondering if he too had to eat liver. He also knew that I meant business and sat quietly watching the events unfold before his eyes.

” This is your last chance! Eat the lasagna! Or I will leave, go to the store, and buy liver! You will then eat it and learn the meaning of gross. The choice is up to you.”

I then began the final countdown, hand on the door knob, ready to leave “10, 9, 8, 7, 6,5…””

“Fine. I’ll eat the lasagna. I hate it but I will eat it.”

It with that one threat of liver which forced my picky eater to finish his plate of lasagna. I still shudder the thought of cooking liver and onions. Even I can’t stomach the stuff…

Do you have a creative solution to getting picky eaters to eat? Is there one food that you can’t stand the taste of?

The Judgement of Beauty

On my usual morning routine of scanning the Globe and Mail I came across this article “It’s Booty Season: Be Ready to Be Judged.” In the article Micah Toub discusses the ideal beauty standards men have towards women. The picture of the perfect  booty in Daisy Duke shorts shone across the screen.

I mused over the article and the opening as he sat with his mentor who gawked at females sauntering by and judging them by their parts.  I wonder if the pages were turned, my friends and I were having coffee.  We assessed the man walking by and  my friend stated as matter of fact “I can’t look at him. His beer belly just turns me off.” Would this make headlines at The Globe and Mail?

In the article Micah Toub  points out that  men judge women as objects summed up by their different body parts which in turn allows men to view women as objects.  However, It’s natural for men to judge women just as it is natural for women to judge men.

Yes, it is a natural fact that the occasional Fabio walking in my direction may get an inappropriate wink and the odd glance. But it`s also a primary fact that everyday woman are bombarded by the media with the ideal  images of beauty. So, now we are just supposed to accept the fact that if our booty is not up to snuff that we will be judged based on this scientific evidence.

In the end Micha Toub covers his back by stating that beauty is the sum of all of your parts. Luckily, for me it just isn’t my leg or breast but it’s my whole entire body that will be judged. I believe beauty is in the eye of the beholder and  what lies beneath the skin.

It’s time to question the way we view beauty and if we are willing to attempt to live up to unrealistic standards of blonde bombshells and dark-haired vixens. Don’t you think we need to shift the title of the article from” prepared to be judged” to who gives a rats ass?  Quite Frankly if you don’t like what you see from behind – fuck ya!

Do you think men and women judge each other to harshly based on unrealistic beauty standards? Is media to blame for these unrealistic expectations?

Blogging: Where Do You Draw the Line?

Mr.MBA usually doesn’t read my blog but sometimes on the occasional chance he gets curious and visits my  little online world. This morning as we were eating breakfast we were having a discussion about his broken nose. He looked at me curiously, “You are not going to blog about this are you?”

“No! I’ll leave your poor nose alone.”


He then looked at me, “You know I’m thinking I might have to begin thinking before I speak. Maybe I should trademark everything I say?”


“Well! If you are going to keep mentioning me in your blog.”

I burst out into laughter “Yes! All insightful great one! Please do!”

It was with that we went about our morning business and making plans for the day.  As I looked over the morning newspaper I began to think there are many things I share with readers but also there is a line that I won’t cross in my personal life. I believe some conversations and some events in life are best kept private regardless of how good of a story it is to tell.

So, I want to know are there things you refuse to blog about it? Do you have a line that you don’t cross when it comes to life, family, and career? If so where do you draw the line?

Rapture Day! Time to Celebrate with Mimosas and Chocolate!

As Rapture day quickly approaches and we all prepare for the final end of life as we know it! I’ve been  I find  preparing a few rapture day carols and some final day baking. I want to be ready for the party!

However, if by chance that I don’t get selected by our higher power and am forced to roast in the eternal fires of hell then at least I will have comfort in my two favorite things Mimosas and chocolate.

I feel kinda nervous about this whole day…I mean it’s like high school basketball all over again.  What if I’m the last girl to get picked? Or, what if I don’t get picked?

I can see God in his white robe  pointing his  finger at me and exclaiming “Hahaha! I created you but you didn’t make the cut! You unworthy heathen!”

I can see him selecting all of those mean judgemental girls who didn’t like you and wouldn’t pass the ball.  They would get all of the attention, win the gold halo, they would then all hop in his convertible, and drive off to heaven!

Luckily for all of us there is no such thing as rapture day! The one thing I have learned about God is that he is loving, forgiving, and compassionate. The last thing he would do is judge us.

So, phew! I think we all off the hook this weekend. I’m sure it will be relief to  those mean girls that they can make time for their Botox appointments so they can have their furrowed brow staring down at you….

So on that note! I want to know how you will be spending your rapture day? I will be spending my  Saturday afternoon in my non-mom bikini, watching the kids run  through the sprinkler, reading my book, and drinking mimosas. I think it will be the perfect afternoon with the ones I love!

But of course I will have my rosary and marshmallows on stand by just in case I’m wrong about this whole judgement business…

Smashing My Head Against the Bio

I love to blog, I love to write, but to sum it up in short and write a bio about yourself is a painful process.  Especially, when you have a hard time being serious about yourself. I’ve never submitted a bio that didn’t involve a joke about coffee, stained shirts, little cars, or yoga pants.

I glanced over my About Me page and shuddered…

Help! I’m trapped in the suburban carnival! And I’ll never be able to find my way out! I’m scared of Botox, my car is too small, and I fear spending too much money on yoga pants!  I always put my foot in my mouth and my mother in law is extremely passive-aggressive. It’s all of these things which are the carnival of my life. Right now, I am currently suspended upside down from my trapeze waiting for somebody to come out with the net.

I thought perhaps I would change the about me page. On the odd chance that my Mother in Law would ever discover that yes I do  find her extremely passive-aggressive. In the end it would start a battle of MIL vs. DIL with Mr.MBA being  diminished into a cloud of dust as two tornadoes swirled about him.

Perhaps, a domesticated clown isn’t the best way to describe myself. But most days I do feel slightly, awkward, clumsy, and give a wink at the most inappropriate of times. So in attempt to for you to learn something serious about me.

I looked up tips for writing the perfect Bio. Yes I did! The consensus of articles from the web stated five facts that you should share about yourself. So ahem!

1. Education

I attended a small liberal arts school studied Political Science and Human Rights.  It is there I learned the value of critical thinking, developed a love for Aristotle, and can recite The Universal Declaration of Human Rights.

2. Achievements

I went to beauty school for six months and discovered it wasn’t for me. I made the wise decision of becoming a beauty school drop-out. And it was the greatest achievement and wisest choice of my life. I saved the world from an onslaught of blue haired ladies in their walkers on the hunt for men at discos.

3. My perspective on Life

You only get one life!  Live it to the fullest!

4. Publications

I won a poetry contest in Grade three! The laminated book still resides in the school library. I do not remember the words of the poem but it involved a deer and a stream.

5.  Travels, hobbies, and interests

My second summer of university I worked as an Aupair in the foothills of Switzerland. And if you have ever seen Outsource that is pretty much what I did l in India for a year. I also have a love of reading, cooking, eating, running, and dark pubs arguing over politics.

So as you can see I am smashing my head against the bio and have a hard time being serious. Do you have any suggestions for me?

What’s Behind a Smile?

A smile is more than just an upward curve of the mouth. It is the gesture which symbolizes joy, happiness, optimism, and laughter. A stranger with a welcoming smile can brighten your day! And a friend with compassion who listens without pursed lips is the one you lean on when times are tough.

One small gesture can mean so much in so many different ways. As I was leafing through one of my Father’s old poetry books. I came across this little poem – it brought a smile to my face.

A Smile

Let Others Cheer the winning man,

There’s one I hold worth while;

‘Tis he who does the best he can,

The loses with a smile.

Beaten he is, but not to stay

Down with the rank and file;

That man will win some other day,

Who loses with a smile.

~ Unknown

It was the eternal optimism of this poem which made me smile. It seems when things get grim the last thing anybody wants to do is smile. But what if we did? Would it change our own perspective on life? I want to know what hides behind your smile? 

A Mop! A Mop! A Cleaning Lady for a Mop!

I once had ambitions  just like Richard the III and dreamed of my own matriarchal  kingdom. It would be  a shiny beacon that would make Martha Stewart envious of my organizational skills. In the past week I have washed, scrubbed toilets, and de-cluttered  almost all of the closets. It was only within moments my homes squeaky clean appearance was tarnished…

The aftermath of my madness was questionable, but what lead to this madness? Was it that I gave Mr. MBA too much free rein last night when he did the laundry? Or was it  giving the kids too much freedom in their room  not policing where they put their toys and laundry? I’m unsure where or when my madness occurred but when it did everyone took cover!

I awoke this morning groggy, getting breakfast ready, packing lunches, listening to the sound of my coffee brewing in the tassimo (my one trusted friend ) it was when my little man yelled, “Mom where are my socks?”

“Your Dad put them away last night they should be in your top drawer.”

“They’re not!”

My second son, “Mine are not either!”

My husband came trudging down the stairs in his wrinkled dress pants and shirt. I gave him the once over “Did you stuff the dryer full?”


“Why would you do that everything is going to be wrinkled!”

“Don’t worry I’ll fix it.”

He went downstairs and put his wrinkled clothes in the empty dryer. I thought to myself not a word just I just need my coffee.

“Mom! I still don’t have any socks!”

I wandered upstairs and looked at his room. My ears began to turn red “Where is your floor? What have you done? I just cleaned this yesterday!”

He gave me his sweet eyes, “I don’t know!”

I went back to the kitchen to discover the dog in the garbage. It was everywhere the remnants of last nights spaghetti sauce. I was biting my tongue, keeping my cool, the dog gave me the look, and took cover in her crate.

Mr. MBA reappeared smoothed out and ready to face his day! “Did you put away the kids clothes last night?”


“That’s funny I can’t find their socks. I’ll go look in the laundry room.”

As I hit the bottom of the basement steps,  and entered the family room. I looked and discovered a pile of clean socks in the centre of the floor.

“Mr. MBA could you come here!”

I heard the foot steps slowly come down the stairs. “Yes!”

“What’s this?”

“It’s the kids socks.”

“Why are they in the middle of the floor?”

“I thought they could just match as they go!”

“You thought? You thought? You thought they could  match and go?”

“Is that what your mother did?”

“Well no!”

“So do you think I want to look at a pile of socks every time I watch TV?”

Mr. MBA slinked up the stairs “I think I better go now.”

All of my Better Home and Garden dreams thwarted with a blink of an eye. I felt dizzy with the onset of madness and all  I could do was declare  “A Mop! A Mop! A Cleaning Lady for a Mop!”

Have you ever been driven to madness?

Stephen Harper and the Industrious Beaver

It was this week the people went to the polls and elected Stephen Harper’s Conservatives a majority government. It was a surprise to many fellow Canadians and Political pundits that the Conservative machine won the vote of the people. It’s a question which left many people wondering  how did this happen?

The only answer is Stephen Harper is like the industrious beaver never giving up or admitting defeat. In the past seven years  he has toiled with minority governments making parliament his warm wooden home. It is with his plain stubborn determination that he turned a group of bickering Progressive Conservatives into a well oiled machine that towed the party line.

Unfortunately, our sly fox Michael Ignatieff,  was unable to capture the elusive beaver and was too wily to bond with fellow Canadians.  It was  Jack Layton  the rabbit in the night that snuck up on the fox stealing all of his loot and what was left of his party platform. The rabbit hopped and he bopped across Canada convincing Canadians that he was the fella who would represent their values.

The porcupine who has also been welcome into the house.She will observe, vote, and do her best to focus on changing  Canadians view on the environment rallying for a more green society.  Elizabeth May is  also ready to have her prickly needles on guard and keep all of the good old boys in line.

I can say this with glee! It was the skunk that got his curmudgeon! He finally shown his stripe to fellow Quebecer`s they could no longer stand the stench of Duceppe’s politics and gave him the boot. So long Skunk!

Many Canadians are unsure of how the Canadian landscape will change with a conservative majority. What will happen next is anybody’s guess…

However, Stephen Harper is just like the beaver working to build this own legacy changing the shape of the Canadian Landscape. But will that landscape turn into a beautiful meadow or a mosquito infested pond? Is the question weighing on many Canadian minds.

How do you think the Canadian Landscape will change under Conservative majority?

Election Day! The Party Leaders in a Moment of Silence

Do you ever wonder what could be going through a politician’s head through the final hours of election day? In order to survive Canadian Politics you must have a competitive spirit, a dash of madness, and a love of politics. It’s those final moments as they prepare for the crowds, the media, and the speeches. I wonder what they will be doing in their last moments of silence…

In the final hours I suspect:

  •  Gilles Duceppe is working with his tailor to put on the finishing touches of his beautiful suit and selecting a tie.
  •  Jack Layton consulting with his make-up artist to ensure she covers the shine of his balding head so it doesn’t distract from his winning smile.
  • Elizabeth May  perhaps enjoying a jaunt in the wilderness thinking maybe next time…
  • Michael Ignatieff already beginning his next great academic novel ” The Death of Osama: Will it shift US Foreign Policy?”
  •  Harper playing the keys of his piano wondering if he will ever win a majority….

So as we all wait in anticipation for tonight’s final results – what do you imagine your favorite political leader doing in his/her  last moments of silence?