A Silly Song, an Old Story and a Birthday Cake Martini…

It’s sort of like a party here today at Martinis and Motherhood.  Reason being, we are officially one year old! And to honour our birthday, I thought it would be kinda cool to celebrate together by taking a scoot back to where it all began – with a re-print of my first post: Cocktails and Canvases.

Then, I’ll be shaking up a very tasty martini. And I think you should make yourself one too.

But, before we can proceed, Mindy Miller (of Mindy’s World fame) wanted to dedicate her Birthday video to us. She’s insisting that it be shown right away. Continue reading

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In Search of Bliss…

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It’s no secret that as moms, we spread ourselves in a million and one directions.

There is never a time when everything is done.

Nope. Life as a mother, wife and wannabe writer is an ongoing juggle. One that requires me to capture little moments of bliss amidst the hustle.

These moments can be found in the hugs that my little people give me or the gift of sleep that my husband, at times, presents. Even if 8:00 am is the new noon and I can hear absolutely everything the kids are doing downstairs, I appreciate that space and time in my comfy bed.

But I have to admit it, there really isn’t much that competes with the thrill that comes from being alone, with my laptop as a story unfolds at my fingertips.

That, for me, is bliss.

Continue reading

A Day in the Life of Mindy Miller

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Hi there,

Thanks for joining us again here on Mindy’s World!

This week Francesca and I have been back on track. We’re not quite two-peas-in-a-pod but pretty close! The Roar video  that we did last week must have done the trick, so I’m super excited about that.

Now, many people have been asking me if the fame of Mindy’s World has changed me. Well, friends, I can assure you IT HAS NOT! I am still the same Mindy Miller that I’ve always been…

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A Coffee with… Global TV’s Carolyn Mackenzie

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The news anchor talks work, kids and her ideal date

By: Shannon Day

At the 23rd hour, while the rest of us are zonked on the couch at home or fast asleep in our comfy beds, Carolyn Mackenzie is not only at work but the spotlight shines bright as she delivers the 11 o’clock news.

Carolyn is the weeknight anchor for News Hour Final on Global. She’s also a mom to Kate, 5, Matt, 2, and is married to Chris, a Toronto firefighter.  Her schedule is hectic but Carolyn has agreed to come over with her husband and kids, to talk about her balancing act as she juggles work, marriage and motherhood.

Continue reading

Bring back the Tucked in Sweater- A Mother’s take on Pop Culture

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Sing- along Fun

There we were.  My three daughters and I. Cruisin’ along in the minivan, radio on high, having a little sing-along:

Me: I may be bad but I’m perfectly good at it.

Take it girls…

Ava (age 9): Sex in the air, you know I love the smell of it.

Zed (age 6): Sticks and stones may break my bones.

Mini: (age 4): But whips and chains excite me.

Together: nana na na na. Come on, come on come on. I like it, like it…

*******

Fret not, this didn’t actually happen. Because when songs, like Rihanna’s S & M, come on the radio, I change the station.

The Bubble Protection Program

I casually switch from one station to the next, trying not to let sex, drug and violent lingo permeate the bubbles of innocence that are around my kids. I work hard to maintain these bubbles.

I know the lyrics would simply go over the heads of Zed and Mini but not Ava.  She loves singing and she hears the words. I don’t want her singing about sex, hickies and drunken Friday nights.

She’s nine.

It should still be about unicorns and rainbows, when you’re nine, shouldn’t it?

Wishful thinking.

I miss the innocence of my own youth when Madonna was the only one hooching it up and songs, like: Me so Horny and Boom, Boom, Boom (Let’s go Back to my Room), could be counted on one hand.

Those were the days, huh?

I’m with Annie Lennox on this one…

Music videos today are a whole other topic of agitation for me, as a mom.  This is why they’re never on in our house. Sure lots of performers have talent, creativity and vision.

Lady Gaga is half-naked in the name of art. Katy Perry adorns her boobs with ice cream sundaes because who doesn’t love a cherry on top? Robin Thicke is pervy, gropey and creepy.

Whenever I give MTV a chance I see women degrading themselves – selling their sexuality all in the name of entertainment because simulating a blow job is artistic expression, not porn, right?

Annie Lennox described such pop stars perfectly when she described them as: “pimp and prostitute at the same time.”  She views their behaviour as: “a glorified and monetised form of self-harm.”

I’m with Annie here and I don’t want my kids looking at this and thinking it’s okay, or worse yet, that it’s something to aspire to.

Long gone are the days of Debbie Gibson and Tiffany with their big hair and tucked in sweaters.

I miss Cyndi Lauper, in her side pony, singing Girls Just Wanna have Fun…

So, you can sing and you’re gorgeous but how’s your finger filacio?

According to the music industry girls have to be slim, beautiful and capable of carrying a basic tune.  This isn’t news; it’s been this way for years. But it now seems that this is no longer enough. It turns out that in order to qualify as a successful female singer you must be willing to set free your inner porn star.

Performers from Britney to J-Lo are giving us a pseudo-glimpse of what they look like when they’re actually having sex. They writhe around solo on a beach or on the ground wrapped in a sheet. They’re basically having sex with themselves while mouthing the words to their songs.

J-Lo wants us to see that she’s still “got it.” Miley wants us to know that Hannah Montana is dead and that she’s been replaced by a twerking, giant-tongue wagging, Mistress of Seduction…

Sex.

Sex.

And more sex.

No, actually, my name isn’t Agnes…

Sometimes, when I share my opinions about current pop culture, I sound like my name is Agnes or Enid. I come across as old, out of touch and closed minded, like the perfect BFF for the pastor in Footloose.

I use words like: appalling, distasteful and disgraceful.

Inappropriate is my favourite descriptive word to use, when referring to that which I deem to be unsuitable.  It’s a versatile word that can be applied to a range of categories from swear words to YouTube.

I use it when Ava comes downstairs while I’m watching Orange is the New Black.

I use it when she tells me that “all” the kids in her class are allowed to watch Walking Dead.

I say it so often that Ava has started using it.  Witnessing her saying it to her sisters has allowed me to see what kind of message it sends out.

When she says it, it sounds closed and final. It makes the topic seem beyond the reach of the recipients. It shuts the conversation down, like a door in the face.

I used it last week when Ava asked about the Wrecking Ball video.

My needle is out and I’m ready to start popping…

Ava was curious about the video. She said that some of the kids at school had seen it. I was about to close the door on the topic but I stopped myself and instead, I said: “Actually, let’s go watch it.”

With a look of shock and bewilderment, she agreed.

We googled Miley’s video. We sat together and we watched it. Ava produced a few scrunched up faces and let out a few “ews” and when the video was finished she said: “I like her music but I don’t like the way she acts.”

We chatted a little more about it and then she went off to play with her sisters.

Pop

Ping

Splooooosh

You hear that?

Those are the sounds of bubbles bursting. I can’t maintain them forever and if I try, I’ll end up creating a barrier between me and my kids instead.

There are plenty of things that I don’t want my kids to watch, learn and hear but I can’t conceal those things forever and when they do watch, learn and hear them I want my girls to feel like they can come to me.

No doors. No barriers. No Agnes

I Launder Therefore I Am (entitled to a cocktail)

Screaming Housewife With Steam Iron

One day last week, while reflectively mopping, I said to my husband:

“I feel like I need more purpose in my life…”

My hubby, who’d just gotten out of the shower and was rummaging through his dresser drawers, replied:

I just need some socks…”

So there you have it: missing socks, a quest for purpose and a real-life example of a couple communicating.

So where do I go from here?  I could contemplate my need for purpose and deeper meaning in life but surely that’d be better done in a private journal.  I could assess communication within male/female relationships, but that’d be a massive topic and therefore more effectively explored in a book, entitled: Couple Talk: Absent Socks and the Meaning of Life (or maybe not).

I think I’ll turn my focus, instead, to the exhilarating subject of socks and the ever-so-important role of Launderer…

Laundry is my area of specialty at our house.  Why? You ask. Well, because I’m a laundering goddess, of course. Well, not really, it’s more like my husband doesn’t want anything to do with the laundering process and that’s ok with me, most of the time. As long as he keeps on shoveling the snow outside, I can accept the role of Launderer.

In case you were wondering…   when it comes to sorting the dirty laundry I do so in the following categories: whites, lights, brights, darks, blacks and pinks (yes, it’s an entire load of its own). I then fill and empty the washing machine and the dryer, I reluctantly iron a few things, I fold and I put everything away. I keep my family freshly dressed from head to ankle, faithfully, but sometimes we run a little short on socks…

The case of the absent socks really is an ongoing mystery- an endless conundrum! Who is stealing our socks? Is this someone’s idea of a sick joke?  There are more lone socks at our house than in the average home. Currently, there are about 52 mismatched socks sitting in a bag. How? Why?

I’ve discovered that sometimes socks find their way into the toy boxes and that some of them have even been transformed into farm animals! Thanks Phoebe Gilman. There are also times when a sock loses its partner for a while but gets thrown out before the two can be reunited.  Basically, the sock that was originally lost gets found only to learn that its mate has been discarded. It’s a hapless turn of events.

I’m starting to think that the mystery of the absent socks is destined to remain unsolved.  And, you know what, I’m okay with that. For now, I’ll admit defeat in the sock department of life.  Besides, when it comes to laundry, my whites are pretty damn white and that is something. Right?! Or is it….

I launder therefore I am.  And within this meaningful role, I shine but I am also shamed. I can accept this because I know that when it comes to martini making, everyone can shine without shame. After all, every laundering lady deserves a cocktail! Here is how you can make your very own Dirty Laundry Martini…

The Dirty Laundry Martini

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Ingredients:

1.5 oz. gin

0.5 oz. Triple Sec

1.5 oz. lemonade

2 basil leaves

1 orange

2 tsp. of sugar

Method:

  1. Using a slice of orange, wet the rim of the martini glass.
  2. Pour sugar on a plate, tip the martini glass upside down on the plate and spin until the glass has a fully sugared rim.
  3. In a metal shaker, place ice, vodka or gin, Triple Sec, lemonade and 1 torn basil leaf.
  4. Squeeze in the juice of 2 orange slices,
  5. Shake, shake, shake and strain into the martini glass.
  6. Garnish with a slice of orange and set free a little basil leaf, to float on top.

Toast to clean laundry, bare feet and lonely socks.