Loulou's views

I'm going to talk about something here that I haven't talked about in much detail before. I'm going to talk about money. I have a major problem. And I'm having an a-ha moment, like Oprah would say. (Aw, Oprah! Miss you!) Anyway. A little background information: I'm addicted to shopping. The day Confessions of a Shopaholic arrived in the book store, I bought it. I read it in under an hour. I have never before related so closely to a fictional character. I think I may have even cried, reading about someone who was just like me . Another person I closely relate to is Cher from Clueless. I can be very clueless all the time sometimes, when it comes to my spending habits. You know that thing when you see someone cute and he smiles and your heart kind of goes like warm butter sliding down hot toast? Well that's what it's like when I see a store. Only it's better. Rebecca Bloomwood said it best. When I go shopping, I get a natural high. I feel happy. My hea

During my first pregnancy, I had certain... ideas about how I'd raise my children. "I'll never breastfeed!" I declared one day. "I'll still have a super active social life!" I promised my friends while we were out having drinks, something we did almost every night. "I'll make the rules—my children will listen to me!" I said in a room full of other moms at my baby shower. Only now do I know why they all started laughing at me. What you say before you become a mom—and what you do once your are a mom—are two completely different things. I breastfed, didn't get out much when I had a new baby at home, and never made too many rules for my boys. Everyone parents differently. I co-sleep with my three year old. I'm relaxed about my children's chocolate consumption. My boys use a stroller if they get really tired. I am a helicopter mom, and I'm a constant worrier. I educate my boys, keep them active, and travel with them as often

If this is going to be the last post I publish before Rapture, I don't want it to be about something frivolous, like how much fun I had appearing on Daytime Ottawa talking about blogging, or my upcoming photo shoot with Ottawa Magazine, or how happy I was that Puck wasn't the one to die on Glee last night. (Phew!) I want to talk about something more serious, like what we're all going to wear for Rapture . And if we're RAPTURE READY or not! I'll be honest, my brain hurts, trying to make sense of it all. I've read some really confusing things. Basically, the end of the world is taking place this weekend: "The dead in Christ will rise, then we which are alive and remain shall be caught up together with them in the clouds to meet the Lord." Don't worry, though; you still have time to repent . And oh, LORD, do I have some repentin' to do. I'm sorry, God! I'm just a mere mortal! I looooove you. Okay, moving on... I kept hearing about the

I first found out about email during my first year of university. I was sitting at the computer with my future husband, listening to him explain it to me, and showing me how to use it. I remember being completely against the idea of sending messages to people through a computer. "I'm never going to use email!" I declared, and walked away. A few of my friends had gone away to university, and I stocked up on nice writing paper and pens eager to start writing letters to them. Checking the mail box was fun, and new letters would arrive weekly—pages of hand-written letters from my closest friends, with juicy details about their first year in university and about their experiences living on their own. Eventually, though, I gave in. I got my first email account through the university I was attending. The rest, as they say, is history. And my love affair began. My closest friends and I would go to the computer lab on the 4th floor of the university library to send emails to one a

Life begins all over again when you cross the threshold into motherhood. It's impossible to understands what it means to be a mom until you become one. The change is unreal, and sudden, and your life gets divided into before and after. The before is fuzzy for a long while after your baby is placed in your arms. Life changes drastically . I always appreciated and loved my mom, but once I become a mom myself, we became even closer. When I was pregnant for the first time, I believed that once I got out of the first trimester, the worry would go away. Then I was thirteen weeks pregnant, and I was just as worried as the week before. I ate well; my husband made me salmon at least one a week, I ate more vegetables than any other time in my life, I took my Materna daily, and I indulged in McFlurries during every episode of The Amazing Race. I also slept a lot. Which is a good thing, since it's been almost six years since I last slept. When my son was born, I was a basket-case for the f