Friday, August 31, 2018

Why the lost sippy cup.

I've been asked by a few people why I chose to name my site 'The lost sippy cup' so I figured I would write a quick little post about it.  Honestly the answer is really simple I'm a mom that deals with sippy cups and when you find a random sippy cup that had been lost your heart starts to race and, if you are like me, you panic a little until you realize whats in it and hopefully it doesn't have rotten cheese like milk in it or fermented juice. I landed on it because my life feels like that moment you find a lost sippy cup, hopeful its just water but anxious that you have a rotten cup to deal with, or throw out because I ain't got time for that

Thursday, August 30, 2018

Hockey is our life

Hockey season is upon us and you know what that means? I get to pull out my hockey mom cheer squad gear and voice and hockey mom it up for the next 7-8months.  I am a huge hockey freak and my oldest and youngest son both dream of hockey sticks, pucks, and red lights. I have to admit that as much as I love being a regular old mom, I love being a hockey mom.  
Before anyone gets confused I want to clarify I am not that mom that screams insults, pushes her child with unrealistic expectations or dreams of NHL stardom for her child.  I'm happy if my boys go out and put their best effort into the game.  My hope is that finding a sport that he loves will teach him all about working hard as a team, making friends, having fun and believing in himself.  For that, I am willing to sit in dingy arenas freezing my ass off on the ice cold bleachers while drinking shitty coffee at an ungodly hour on Sunday morning yelling at my son to hustle.  
My littlest is still 1 year too little to start hockey so this year we are putting him into skating lessons.  He has been DYING to go on the ice like his biggest brother since he's pretty much been raised in an arena thanks to hockey and lacrosse so we figured our best move would be to get him to start skating in hopes that he will be able to skate really well when he moves into hockey.
It won't be long now until our lives are swallowed by hockey, in every form, in real life, on tv, video games, and floor hockey and I will love every minute of it.

Tuesday, August 28, 2018


Well, I've fallen off the wagon and haven't posted in forever since things have been a little tough after getting home from the little trip I took with my boys.  I have a post coming up that  I've been trying to put together but it been a bit of a tough one to write so, I'm, not too sure when I'll be posting it.  I've thought a lot of the direction I want this blog to go and I'm slowly realizing that I can't really make it anything I just need to go with the flow and see where I end up with it. 

Monday, August 20, 2018

Flying High

Today I took on the dreaded task of flying with my 3 boys.  I was lucky to have the help of their grandma and auntie, but I digress. It's amazing all the things you can learn by flying with someone, for example, Rhys will tolerate any loud noises as long as it ends up with him going up into the clouds and Oliver is a very firm believer that in order to have a good trip you need to fart in the airport.  I have a feeling though that his 'lucky fart' was just an excuse to fart in the airport and announce it as loudly as possible.
Here in BC, it was really warm so OF COURSE, I ended up getting 2 bad headaches and while trying to sleep so I wouldn't have to deal with it B and Ollie kept interrupting me for absolutely NO reason what so ever and they couldn't stop asking why I was getting angry, Hmmmm...

Here we are though, In beautiful BC ready to go to bed because I've been up since 3am, my headache is creeping back, my c section scar is crossing the line from inconvenient irritants to WTF WHY IS THIS STILL HAPPENING?

I'll try to post again tomorrow but we are on a trip visiting family so my blog has to take the passenger seat for the week.

Until Next Time
Christal <3

Sunday, August 19, 2018

Anxiety is a b*tch

Yesterday was one hell of a day.  B, my oldest son, had his last day of hockey camp and in all honesty, I'm impressed with how far he has come in just 1week.  My middle boy had a tooth that had been bothering him and had needed to come out so I made a last minute appointment to have it removed anyway.  Well, long story short he couldn't have it removed there so I had to call a pediatric dentist for an emergency appointment and it has been removed.

When my boy went in to get his tooth pulled out my anxiety skyrocketed. The dentist wanted me in the room with him to hold his hand and help keep him calm which as a momma bear I did but this is when my anxiety started to take over. My heart is always the first thing that tips me off.  I will feel my heart beating faster and faster and it starts to feel like its going to beat out of my chest.  Then the next thing is dizziness, my dizziness isn't just of the spinning room variety. When I get dizzy from my anxiety my thoughts, worries, ideas, and emotions start spinning around me and they make me feel off balance then I start to feel like I'm drowning.  Sometimes, if I can catch it before the dizziness, I'm able to ground myself with one of the exercises I've learned from my therapists, but its really difficult to catch it early enough to prevent it.  As the dizziness continues Ill start to disassociate and its all like a dream at that point.  When my anxiety turns into disassociation I start to act on instinct and I become impulsive. (I plan on writing a post on my disassociations later)

I managed to get through the ordeal and my boy came out with a nasty hole in his mouth a tooth that he can put under his pillow when he remembers it lol. He will need more dental work done and there will be more teeth to come out so I will try to be better prepared for next time.

take care

Thursday, August 16, 2018

Being a Mom Of Boys.

Living with my 3 sons and my boyfriend of 11 years I am drowning swimming in a sea of testosterone.  I always knew that one day I would have a family, after all as a child it was drilled into my head that girls grow up to be mommies and take care of their babies.  I always knew that I was destined to have a heard of boys. If I'm being honest, having children wasn't exactly something I wanted it was just something I assumed I had to do, like taxes or get a job so when I found out I was pregnant with my first son the only feeling I felt was fear.  All I could think was WHAT THE HELL HAVE I GOTTEN MYSELF INTO.  Over the following months, until my big bundle of blue was dragged unwillingly into this world popped right out, I tried as hard as I could to figure out what I was supposed to do.  When you're pregnant there are SO MANY rules to follow but once they come out its all of a sudden like a multiple choice test only every option is a correct answer. 

I was elated when I was told that the bun in my oven was blue.  I've always had friends that were boys, I was a 'tomboy' I could play sports, climb a tree and fix things which are all you need to know, damn I was an idiot back then.  For all 3 pregnancies my little guys were there proudly displaying their goods and when I was told the good news I couldn't wipe the smile off my face.  I had it all figured out and I knew exactly what I was suppose to do, right, HA HA HA HA.

Nobody ever prepared me for the number of times I would have to tell someone to leave their penis in their pants, to stop talking about poop, or to quit practicing slap shots in their bedroom. I also learned that there is nobody that loves anyone like a boy loves his momma.  I got really lucky with my 3 sweet little daredevils, not a moment goes by where I'm not reminded how much I love them whether its a hand-picked dandelion (my new favourite flower) given to me with THE proudest grin, sticky hugs that leave ketchup handprints on the back of my new shirt or the tea that my son made me because I was feeling a little sad. Nobody will ever love me like my little humans.

Wednesday, August 15, 2018

pt. 2 of my struggles.

I was planning on posting this earlier in the week but life happens.  However, I'm nowhere to continue on with the long ramblings of my experiences.
I grew up on the other side of Canada and roughly 11 years ago I moved out here to Alberta.  By the time I moved out here I was on anti-depressants and doing amazing.  I was going out, meeting people, having fun it was great.  Around this time I met my boyfriend and future baby daddy S.  It started off slowly and then we hit the 6-month mark and BAM I found out I was pregnant.  It was at this time my insecurities and fears popped up and I made a tough decision to have my baby boy and raise him with S.  It was one of the scariest things I decided to do.  S and I decided that we wanted to raise our baby in a small town around family and since I had, by that time, cut most ties to my family we decided to move closer to S's family.  I was tough for me to go from a family that barely talked to each other to being surrounded by people that not only liked each other but loved each other and wanted to be involved in each other's lives.  I was constantly looking for the loophole, the 'real reason' people were helping.  I grew up in a very unstable home filled with emotional neglect, addiction, fighting, etc.  It was a really toxic environment and like anyone else brought up in that environment I had major trust issues to name one.  Looking back now I was scared and confused and my depression had darkened the doorway of my mind again I just didn't want to admit it.
By the time I had my second son I was in a much better place and I had gotten back into shape and eating healthy right after Ollie was born.  He was probably my easiest pregnancy, delivery and 4th trimester.
That brings me to Rhys, the baby. I was in labour for 24 hours before it was decided an emergency c-section was needed.  We had almost lost him (I talk more about it in my post 'big reaction for such a small thing').  I was 100% convinced that Rhys didn't make it which was a total mind f**k when I was out of that haze from the surgery and it really played with my mind during his first year.  I spend most of my days just laying on the couch not letting him go, afraid I might lose him if I do. It leads to the hardest deepest depression I had experienced and it took FOREVER to climb out of.  Just now as I sit here typing this I'm finally just climbing out of the hole I had made for myself over the last 2 years.
Right now I'm on Zoloft and Abilify and I'm finally feeling more and more like me as the days go on.  I'm working on going to the gym more and eating healthier.
Every day is a fight but its one I am determined to win and I will never give up.
Until next time

Tuesday, August 14, 2018

Big reaction for such a small thing

Today I was planning a whole different post, a continuation of my post last Monday but I have something else I wanna write about today. 

This afternoon my boys had their yearly appointment with the optometrist and as usual B and Ollie checked out Rhys, on the other hand, has astigmatism and he wants to get him wearing glasses.  Now as soon as I found out that familiar panic started to creep into my chest again.  The panic that can spiral into  stress, anger and frustration before settling into depression but I fought it off,  I took my 10 deep breaths on the 15 minute walk home, I snuggled with Rhys while he had his afternoon nap and I kept telling myself 'Rhys is healthy, Rhys is happy and Rhys is going to be fine". 

A quick little history might help explain my reaction.  Rhys was born 1 day shy of his due date by an emergency c-section.  I was put right under and as soon as I came to I found out that when he was born he wasn't breathing and needed to be intubated and they had to give him chest compressions. He was a mec baby (a baby that swallows meconium before they are born) and he had to have that removed from his lungs.  Rhys spent 10 days in the NICU until he was able to properly regulate his breathing and body temperature.  Rhys had to have his adenoids out due to sleep apnea and now this.  After Rhys's difficult birth (I had originally thought he had passed on and for the first few days I thought I was hallucinating him) I started to have some symptoms of major depression and my PTSD developed a little more.  

Knowing all that maybe my overreaction to Rhys' appointment makes a little more sense.  It feels like its just one more thing.  I am fighting my urge to let the negativity take over and instead embrace my adorable 3-year-old needing glasses which if we pick the right ones they will last and he will just look even cuter.

Until Next Time C<3

Sunday, August 12, 2018

Self Care Sunday

Self Care is how you
take your power back

As someone who suffers from depression, anxiety, complex PTSD (possibly others but this is all I have been diagnosed with so far) self-care is a HUGE thing that I have to make room for in my life or I fall down into the deep dark hole that is my depression.  I make it a point of having 1 day a week that is dedicated to self-care, a day that I spend letting myself do NOTHING at all unless its something I want to do like shopping or going for lunch with a friend. 
Today my self-care has been tea and coffee while watching youtube videos by 2 of my favourite YouTube channels as well as listening to new podcasts while working on my 'arena blanket' for the upcoming hockey season where I end up spending 80% of my time in a freezing arena.  

What does everyone else do for self-care? Do you make time for self-care and to focus on yourself? 

until next time 

Saturday, August 11, 2018

All I do is clean, clean, clean

Yesterday the heat was insanely unbearable so the boys and I laid around in my room with all the fans going watching movies. It was a nice way to spend a hot as hell day, however, since I did no cleaning yesterday it looks like the worlds biggest mess bomb went off.  This post is just one way of avoiding the mess that sits before me. 

Last week I had that major lightbulb moment of 'OMG my meds are working.'  I had the house clean, I had been making more than sandwiches for supper and I was going to the gym. The pride I was feeling was amazing.  Now fast forward to today and the massive mess my boys had made in 1 day has knocked my energy and pride down a peg. 

I knew that having kids meant there would be little to no time with a clean house but I had hoped that as my sons got older they would be able to clean up after themselves even just a little.  I am stubborn as hell and as much as my children like to think they are more stubborn then I am they are very wrong and I am determined to raise kids that grow into adults who know how to clean up their houses and just, in general, take care of themselves.  For now, they will clean while I stay on their case because I love them, they are kids and let's be honest cleaning sucks. 

Wednesday, August 8, 2018

WTF Wednesday?

In my quest to not make this the most depressing blog ever I'm trying to think of 'themes' for my posts and I was thinking WTF Wednesday might be a good one, especially as a mom of 3 boys.
Heres the first one Let me know what you think.

As a mom to 3 boys there are usually a lot of things I say or questions I ask that I NEVER would have ever imagined saying.  let me set this up for you.  I've been potty training my 3 year old for a few weeks now so I am really used to seeing his naked little tooshie blurring around the house while loudly proclaiming that he will never wear pants or underwear again.  I'm quite proud of how well he has been doing only a few weeks into potty training so I try to not fight too much and let him have a little-naked party time before I distract him with food and wrestle a rage-filled toddler into his ginch and let him go on his way.  Today was quite different though.  R came up the stairs from his room as naked as the day he was born yelling that he likes being a 'nakie butt' and after about 20 minutes of naked running around I asked where he left his underwear and he just stared at me with the biggest guilty sh*t eating grin which any mom of a toddler will tell you that look makes your heart speed up and you slowly start going into panic mode.  After 5 minutes I'm practically begging this insanely hyper boy to tell me where his underwear was, which let's be honest is already a weird ass question but I give up questioning the 3-year-old and go to the 7-year-old who HAS TO know and he did.  It turned out R felt the need to stuff his CLEAN ginch into his damn sippy cup.  At this time my heart has finally calmed down now knowing that I don't have a massive lake of pee to clean up off the rug, poop finger paint all over my wall or any of the other disasters that parents imagine when they are looking for missing underwear.
Naturally, my first question was 'Why did you put your underwear in your sippy cup?' and that is when the idea of WTF Wednesday came up because WTF? Why is that a question? I always thought that telling your kid to not eat rocks or dirt would be the weirdest things I would have had to say to my kids but nope I've said gems like this
-why did you put your underwear in your sippy cup?
-get your penis off the table
-don't put your penis in the shampoo bottle
-stop licking the van window
-stop licking the tv
-stop licking your friend
-stop licking (insert anything here)
-Quit talking about killer clowns
-We pee in the house, not outside the house.

Kids sure do keep life interesting.  If you would like to hear more WTF moments let me know in the comments and I'll make something like WTF Wednesday a weekly thing OR if you have any other ideas let me know.
C <3 

Sunday, August 5, 2018

Part 1 of my struggles

************~~~~~~TRIGGER WARNING talk of mental health issues~~~~~~*************

I originally wanted this to be my very first post, however, I had no idea how to start or even what to include but I feel like this post is a crucial one for this blog SO I'm just going to wing it and post whatever pours out of my brain. *fingers crossed its not a huge jumbled mess*

I have been diagnosed with PTSD, Depression, and Anxiety.  They have been constant companions since childhood.  My PTSD stems from some childhood trauma, a trauma I experienced in college as well as trauma from the birth of my littlest boy. 

I always knew I was a little different as a child.  I was very outgoing and enjoyed being around people.  I loved making people laugh and have a good time, I was a huge people pleaser so I always put on an act and I would pretend to be someone I thought they would want to be around.  I never got along with my mother and I was always trying to impress my father.  I would make up these wild elaborate stories in the hopes that it would make people like me and want to have me around.  I would live in this little fantasy world where I was popular, loved and felt important.  I made up these little stories of what my fantasy life was and that was the life I put forward.  As I got older and had more control of my life I stopped having to put on an act and I was able to control how my life works.

"Complex PTSD is specific to severe, repetitive trauma that typically happens in childhood - most often abuse" (from

While I developed CPTSD as a child, trauma has popped up a few times.  In college, I was lucky and lived in the dorms with roommates that I had a great relationship with.  One night however while we were hanging out in one of my roommate's bedroom her boyfriend came storming in tossed one of our guy friends across the room and pulled a knife on him.  one of my roommates called the cops and I was terrified.  Ever since this incident I've been on high alert and aware of my surroundings.  Yes, I'm that crazy lady that checks her back seat for crazy ax murderers, and I'm the person always scanning the room for exits and watching for suspicious behavior. 

Right after graduating from college my parents separated and my sister and I were living in our family home.  I took a HORRIBLE job so I could help pay bills and get food.  It all became too much and I decided to speak with my doctor at the time about why I was crying all the time, couldn't get out of bed, wanted to just not exist (which has been a common theme my entire life) and I ate all the time just to feel something other than numbness and sadness.  This was the first time I was put on anti-depressants, thank god I was on my father's health insurance at the time.  I noticed that at first I was feeling better because I was finally getting help but when I was about 3 weeks on my medication I started having some thoughts about accidentally harming myself. For example I would be cooking supper and the thought of 'what if I accidentally cut my hand off' would just push its way into my head and I would take extra steps to keep it from happening.  Eventually, around the 8 week mark, my medication balanced out and I was feeling a bit better.  My doctor at the time, was quite reassuring that I was just suffering from situational depression and eventually it would pass.  She was wrong though.    

I think Im going to end this post here before it gets entirely too long and boring.  I will be back to continue the rest of it next week.  I will have another different post later this week.  
Until then, 
C <3

(picture of me at the gym with a filter to lighten the mood, the eyes are looking a little creepy though)

Saturday, August 4, 2018

working out the kinks

I just wanted to post a quick little update in case anyone is actually visiting my little blog.  My goal is to post at least 2x a week which I feel is doable right now with the 2 biggest boys home for summer break.  I'm currently working on what I feel is an important post that is looking like it might be a long one and I'm hoping to have it up Monday morning as I'm going to spend most of the day writing on it and ignoring my family (unless I need coffee, sweet sweet coffee). 
I also wanted to ask anyone that may be reading this, whenever, to leave a comment about what they would enjoy reading about or any questions. I'm still finding my path with this blog so any help is GREATLY appreciated!

Wednesday, August 1, 2018

'My house isn't messy,
its custom designed
by a 3-year-old."-unknown

Cleaning in my house is like an Olympic sport; "How much cleaning can you do before your kid can fu*k that sh*t back up".  Naturally, the more kids you have, the bigger the mess, the more points you get and the winner gets a maid for a year.  As much as I would love a maid I wouldn't bother at all. If this summer has proven anything to me is that 3 boys are gross as hell and when it comes to cleaning 3 boys vs. 1 mom there is no way for the mom to win the golden prize of a clean house. 

If any mom tells you she always has a clean house and/or kids that help clean without a screaming match I call BULLSHIT. cleaning with kids is like spitting into a fan, which I'm pretty sure my sons have been doing.  You work hard cleaning one room then when you finally finish and go to sit down you are surprised with the massive mess your kids created in another room that now you need to clean up and while you clean that mess you know the room just finished cleaning is going to look like a massive garbage heap the next time you go in there.  

Somedays my anxiety takes over and makes me feel like a sh*tty mom for all the unwashed clothes piled high in front of the laundry room door, the sticky spots on the kitchen floor from breakfast when the 3-year-old decided the floor needed a drink and nobody decided to tell me or clean it up.  Doing it all so I can have a clean house is impossible and, realistically, never going to happen so these days I just throw in a load of skid marked ginch, run the dishwasher then start a movie with my dudes because that sh*t isn't going anywhere but my sanity and patience will so I give up hoping for the impossible and enjoy time with my 3 crazies.

Self Care

Getting ready to hit the gym has become a bit of a ritual. Hunting for a clean sports bra like its a mythical unicorn while cursing myself for keeping so many that provide absolutely ZERO support and do the worst job of covering my nipples.  Then I search for a towel that wraps around most of my saggier tummy, thanks for that lovely souvenier children

"An empty lantern provides no light
Self-care is the fuel that allows your 
light to shine brightly" -unknown

I love this quote. To me, it means that, as a mom, if I don't take care of me I cannot do my best when it comes to taking care of my boys and leading them down the right path.  I also read it as the only way to be true to yourself is by taking care of yourself. 

My self-care is anything from listening to some music or a podcast,  going and seeing a movie alone, or even just a shower without someone sitting on the toilet telling me all about Roblox.  These days just packing my gym bag has a way of calming me and making me feel a little more grounded.  Just the anticipation of spending time focused on MYSELF makes me feel like I am able to handle whatever the boys throw at me until Shane gets home.  

People in general and especially parents really need to make sure taking care of ourselves is a top priority so our light can keep shining bright.