Thursday, February 18, 2016

ThrowBack Thursday : The Two Try Brazillion Wax

My blog is getting a little dusty (you know the whole two kids, working full time mom thing.....that's my excuse, and I'm sticking to it!).  As I'm working on new post, I thought I'd share an old post from May 2014. (Throwback Thursday is still a thing, right??)  Enjoy!
Photo: © Mytime |

I bought myself a Groupon last week (how great is Groupon?!). It was for a body salt scrub and mud wrap treatment.  As soon as I purchased it, I called the spa to make an appointment.  The friendly receptionist  arranges a day and time for me.  Just before she hangs up the phone, she tells me I might want to wear underwear that I don't mind getting messy from the mud, or I can go nude for the treatment.  I ponder this for a second.  The last time I was naked for a spa treatment, the out come was less then desirable:

The Two Try Bazillion Wax

About five years ago I decided I wanted to get a Brazilian wax done.  It seemed like a good idea. All my friends had done it, as well as my sister.  They said it hurt like a bitch, but was totally worth it. Bathing suit season was also upon me, and the idea of a smooth bikini area was very appealing. I went ahead and called the spa to book my treatment.

The receptionist told me the hair had to be 1/4 inches long. I asked if  a week and half would be sufficient. The receptionist said yes, and I was all set to go.

The day of the appointment, I arrived bright eyed and bushy crotched.  I was told to strip from the waist down, and place the itty bitty white towel provided over my nether regions. The esthetician came in, and we started chatting. She asked if it was my first time, I said yes, and she assured me that it would be a bit painful but worth it.  "I bet you come back" she says with a wink.  Side Note: Its a little weird being winked at while lying on a table with your crotch on display

She spreads the warm wax on, followed by a strip, and pulls.


Hurting a bit, was a bit of an understatement. I'm pretty sure she took my hair, and half my uterus with it.

"You OK?" She asks

"Yep" I say between clenched teeth. "Just peachy".

She does a few more strips, and for a fleeting moment I think about kicking her in the face, and running bare ass outta there. My thoughts are interrupted by a sigh from the wax professional. 

"Hm mm, that's weird"  she says aloud. Well, that's  not something you want to hear from the women who has her hands on your lady parts.

"Whats weird?" I question back with raised eyebrows

"All the hair isn't coming must not have not been long enough"

"Really? The receptionist said 1/4 inches"

"Yeah, well, actually we recommend 1/2 inches or longer. I kinda thought it wasn't long enough when I looked at it, but I was hoping it would be OK"

Silence. I'm not really sure what this broad is getting at, but from the information she is presenting me, it sounds like my Brazilian isn't going well.

"You could come back next week" she says with a shrug.

Is this bitch serious?

"But you've already started" I shriek in a high pitch tone, I don't even recognize.

"Well I got most of it, it's just, well, sorta patchy in some places. You know where the hair wasn't long enough. If you give it a week, those hairs will be long enough, and I can go over the whole area again. The second treatment will be free".

Well I should fucking hope so. I think to myself. As much as I want to get all huffy, and scream "You should of said it wasn't long enough", or "This isn't right" at the top of my lungs, I don't. Because yelling with your crotch on display is pretty much impossible. Needless to say, I left the salon with a patchy, tender, lady area.  

My husband called soon after excited to hear how the procedure went.  He and I both had a very different idea how the out come was going to be.

"I'm a patchy crotched freak" I yell into the phone. I then explain the story to him, and let him know that 
a) I'm so sad, and confused by the Brazilian 
b) I will be spending the remainder of the night soaking in a bath tub with a bottle of wine.  

Now I'm not saying all wax treatments happen like this. (Actually I'm pretty sure no wax treatments happen like this), but please heed my advice and make sure the spa receptionist knows what the fuck shes talking about. And that the esthetician also knows what the fuck shes talking about. Maybe just make sure everyone is on the same page hair growth wise.

Shauna Lynn

Friday, May 1, 2015

Signs You Need More Adult Interaction

My husband walks in the door from work, and I immediately swarm him.

"Hey babe, how was your day today"? 

"Good, how was yours" he answers back cautiously 

"Oh you know, baby on tit, toddler running around like a lunatic, the usual....but back to your day, what did you do?" I ask excitedly, waiting too anxiously for his answer.

"I supervised a bunch of guys"

"Ohhhhhh!! And then what?"

"Then I had lunch"

"Really?!?!" I say, absolutely fascinated by this "What did u have for lunch?"

"Uh, an egg salad sandwich, and soup" 

"Ohhhh!! And then what?"

"And then I went back to work" my husband says dully 

"Cool, anything happen from there?" I ask, eyeballs about to pop out of my head from anticipation.

"Not really babe" 

It's then I realize that I've been hanging onto his every word like he's the Dalai Lama .

I also realize that half of what I said to him was in baby talk. 

I clearly need more adult contact. 

Here are more signs that you need a grown up day out. 

1. Your One Unkept Bitch

I walked by a full length mirror the other day, only to stop, back up, and stare. My reflection was fucking scary. My eyebrows looked like two giant caterpillars were trying to get it on. The grey sweat shirt I was wearing had pit stains on it, and I realized that I haven't had a hair cut since August........its fucking April for crying out loud.

2. You Find Yourself Trying to Talk to Anyone Who Will Listen

The guy in the drive-thru handing you your morning coffee? You know that he has two kids, a boy and girl (Benjamin and Abby).  Is currently working two jobs to put him self through school to be a nurse. His girlfriend Felicia totally supports him, and is his rock when he has a bad day. Also his dog Ringo is scheduled to get fixed next week, and he's wondering if he's making the right choice. 

3. The Song Stuck in Your Head Came From One of Your Kids TV Shows

"Their two, their four,  their six, their eight, shunting trucks and hauling freight...." 

Do you know this song? I do....its from Thomas and Friends. I know every......... single .........word. I hum this song all day every day, sometimes well snapping my fingers and doing a jig. I sing it around the house well washing dishes and folding the never ending pile of laundry.  I even find myself humming this tune behind the wheel of my truck, cruising down the street with no kids......... 

Yep, I definitely need some more adult interaction.

Shauna Lynn

Monday, April 13, 2015

Then There Were Two: The Story of the Shitastic Monday

Photo Credit: ID 35130752 ©  |

I am writing this post with blood shot eyes. Sleep is a rarity around here. I beg for it, only to be tortured with small doses of it. I'm forced to endure the demands of two impatient but beautiful little beings. One who screams out one word demands ("Juice", "Ball", "Pizza"). The other just cries and drools on himself.

If you have not guessed, the picture I'm painting above is my new reality. I am currently back on maternity leave, answering to the demands of a wild, impatient 2.5 year old, and a fussy, non stop nursing 9 week old. Its a new life I'm settling into. It's different, crazy, and has me wondering how mothers of three or more children do it. 

When there was one, it was scary at first (because I really didn't know what the fuck I was doing), but quickly became the norm. I learned so much from my first son, that soon it became so easy. He was an extension of me.  Where ever I went, he went.  I quickly forgot what it was like to not have children at all. He was my sidekick, and I basked in every moment. I became confident in the mother I was becoming; So confident that I suggested to my husband over coffee one morning, "Let's try for another one".

And here we are, 9 weeks in with two little boys. I'm going to sum up how it's going with the story of a Monday morning gone wrong:

The Shitastic Monday

I could hear my little 8 week old half cooing, half crying next to me. I rubbed my half baked looking eye balls and looked at the clock......7:02 am.

He just ate two hours ago, I think to my self.  Will this kid ever get off my tit?

I pick him up, and am about to make myself comfortable on the couch, when I hear my toddler calling from his room. 

"Mom!, Mom!, Poo!"

First of all, why is he up so early....he usually doesn't wake until 8:30.

Second of all, did he just say Poo? 

I put Forrest (the infant) down on his play mat so I can go quickly fetch Marshall (the toddler) . As soon as I pick him up he feels wet. Did his stupid diaper not hold up during the night? I throw him on the couch, take off his pants only to find shit,,,,,,,,,,,, every where. All up his leg. Up his back, and now on my couch and all over me.

"Poo!" Marshall tells me.

Yeah, I can fucking see that kid, I think to myself, but instead say in the most sing song voice I can muster "Oh no buddy, what happened"!?

"Poo!" He chants again.

Now Forrest is crying because he's hungry and never stops eating.  

Time for this bitch to pull up her overly large maternity underwear and morph into serious mom mode. 

I throw the baby in the swing, while running the shit covered toddler to the bath. 

"Poo!" Marshall lets me know again.

Once he is happily emerged in a bubble bath, I wash myself down, grab Forrest, throw him on my leaking breast, and nurse him sitting on the toilet seat while watching my 2.5 year old enjoy his early morning suds. 

I handle two kids, like a boss.

But seriously, how do u moms of three or more do it!?

Myself and the Monsters

Shauna Lynn

P.s, Sorry about the blogging absence! I had some shit I need to take care of, but now I'm back! 

Thursday, June 12, 2014

So Your Holding a Positive Pregnancy Test........

Photo: © |

My husband and I tried for over a year, before we got pregnant with our son Marshall. The month before I tested positive,  I had been four days late.  I was convinced I was pregnant. That was until that bloody bitch showed up and crushed my dreams. So the day I took the positive pregnancy test, I actually didn't expect to be pregnant.  See,  after the crushing negative test the month before, the husband and I decided to take a break from trying. To just be. So as I stared at the freshly pissed on test, with a very faint positive line, I was in disbelief. I mean the second line was barely there. Was it even there?   

I ran to the nearest drug store and bought one of those early detection test.(First Response, if you wanna know!) This test wasn't fucking around.  I pissed on it, and it lit up like a Christmas Tree. BAM. Two pink very detectable lines. 

My reaction went a little like this:

Holy shit .....I'm pregnant!!!

I'm pregnant!!!

I'm pregnant.

I'm....... pregnant?

I'm. Totally. Fucking. Pregnant.

Even though we had been trying, and wanting this so bad, my emotions were everywhere. I  started to teeter on the psychotic.  One minutes I was laughing, the next minute I was crying.  Then there was that good solid 45 minutes where I just stared into space. But after the initial shock wore off, and I came back to earth, I was excited to get on with my new pregnant lifestyle.  

Here is my advice on what to do, if you are holding a positive pregnancy test:

1.  Get Your Emotions Out. - If you need to laugh, laugh.  If you need to cry, cry.  If you need to rock yourself back and forth in a corner until your brain can comprehend the fact that your growing an actual person in your uterus.....then rock away.  My point is, now is not the time to keep it all in. Let your crazy, happy, scared, worried self out.

2.  Tell Your Partner - Once you have sorta calmed down, to a place where you can form words,  plan a way to tell your partner.  I went out and bought a small onesie.  When my husband came home, I greeted him at the door with it.  

He didn't get it.

"That's cute. Who's it for" he asked completely clueless.

"Our baby"  I replied with a smile so wide, it practically ran off my face and out the door.

"What? Why? Really? No? Yes? Yes?" were the babbles of words that flowed freely from his mouth.

See its fun and hilarious to tell your partner.

3. Bask in Your Moment.  Before you go running the streets, grabbing anybody who will look your way, and screaming in their face that your with child, try and refrain.  Just soak it all in.  Plan, dream, and wonder.  It really is such an exciting time.

4. Call the Doctor- Once you've processed, and told who you want to (or don't want to) make a doctors appointment.  That way she can address any questions you have, you can have some blood work done, and to hardcore confirm your one of the pregnant bitches! Boo ya!

Holding a positive pregnancy test for the first time, can leave you feeling bombarded with emotions.....even if you were trying.  But look at it this way, you really are about to embark on a pretty wild ride! And if you decide to do it again, the second time won't be so scary.  I should know, I just found out we are expecting baby #2!

Shauna Lynn



Thursday, June 5, 2014

The Sun is Out, and I'm Taking Advantage

I love summer, it is by far my favourite season. The warm weather, BB Q's, sunsets, fireworks, beaches, and swimming. I was born in the summer, and if it were feasible I would live my whole life barefoot in the warm grass. So after that long brutal, tortuous, winter (have I mentioned that I have a flair for the dramatics), I'm loving the warmer weather. So much so, that we are barely in the house. I'm ready to grab spring and summer by the balls, and take advantage of every sunny moment.  Here is how we've been spending the warmer weekends:

6:30 am : The Marshmallow (aka my 21 month old son Marshall) wakes up and calls for me from his room. I guess he didn't get the memo that weekends are for sleeping in.

8:00am - My little family goes out for breakfast. I don't feel like cooking on the weekends.....I'm just not the domestic goddess that you may think I am. (dripping with sarcasm)

9:00am - We find ourselves at The Home Depot.  Summer is also time for the husband to get some projects done around the house. 

10:30 - The husband (aka Matt) and I take our Marshmallow to the park, for a walk, garage sale'ing, or a festival/event that our city may be having. This also tires the little munchkin  right the fuck out.
2:30 - After lunch and a nap, Marshmallow is up and ready for action. We usually play in the back yard. My husband does some yard work, while I yell orders from a lawn chair, drinking a large ice coffee. Last weekend it was really warm, so we busted out the sprinkler. If your looking for a cheap way to spend the hot summer days.....a sprinkler is it! Marshall ran through that thing for and hour and a half straight! 

5:00pm - Dinner time rolls around, and we always have something to BBQ. Last weekend it was shish-ka-bobs, with a delicious greek salad. I seriously thought about licking the plate. We eat outside on the patio, and enjoy the last bit of day left.

8:00pm-  Matt starts a bonfire, and we let Marshall hang out with us in his pj's a little pass his bed time. What can I say, we are clearly the epitome of cool parents.

9:00pm - I put my beautiful baby boy to bed, smelling like campfire and spring time, then join my husband around the fire. Sometimes a few friends will stop by, sometimes it's just us, but it's a nice way to wind down our night.

Are you taking advantage of the warm weather?

Shauna Lynn

Friday, May 23, 2014

How Not to Become a Hoarder

Nothing scares me more than a hoarder. Actually that's a lie, a lot of things scare me more than a hoarder, but I just wanted to get my point across...OK?. I can't even watch the show Hoarders, I just try and get the jest of it from the commercials.......that's enough for me.  I think it may be because I'm claustrophobic, and the very idea of a bunch of "things" or "objects" surrounding me is enough to send me over the fucking edge.  I don't like it. So if you like to hang on to things, here is my advice on how to purge your life.  I'm not necessarily saying its good advice, so take it or leave it.  Side Note: When I say "purge" everything, I don't mean baby items, or things with true sentimental value

How Not To Become a Hoarder

1.Throw that Shit Out - I've always heard that if you have not used something in a year, throw it, or give it obviously don't need it.  I take it a step further......If I haven't touched the motherfucker in six months, its gone.

2. Give Yourself a Reward- Adding on to number one, every six months I do a huge purge.  I pick a day and go through everything, ,throw out what I don't want, donate what I don't wear, and pile up all my bills and loose papers that I haven't thrown away.  Then I host a bonfire, and use that as an excuse to burn all my bills and drink one or four glasses of "reward" for cleaning up!

3. Organize - I also organize my house once every six months. I put everything in its place. Its hard to hoard things if they don't have a place. This organization usually stays in effect for about 45 seconds, and then everything goes to shit, but the actually organizing helps keep the hoarding at bay!

4.-Learn How to Say No.  When I was in my early twenties and got my first apartment, a girl I worked with offered to give me a few items she wasn't using.  I said sure, and prepared for her to give me a box or two of household things.  Instead this bitch showed up everyday that week with 3 to 4 boxes of crap.  I am not being ungrateful here......she was obviously purging her house, and decided it was easier to give the stuff to me.  She gave me six "glue-gunned" together lamps, homemade crafts, doilies out the wazoo, and four toasters among other things.  Four fucking toasters......"just in case one broke". Lesson of this story: Just make sure the stuff you are being offered is stuff you will need and use. It's OK to tell someone no, you really don't want their crap.

Hopefully I have given you decent advise on how not to become hoarder.  If however you have come to the point where you already have too much stuff, just host a garage sale. Whatever money you make, don't spend it on more "stuff". Instead you can put it towards a fabulous trip.  Your welcome!

Photo Credit:

Friday, May 16, 2014

Reasons Why You Should Have a Gym Buddy

If your a regular reader of this profanity filled blog, then you are aware of my efforts to get into better shape. If your not (then welcome! I hope you stick around), feel free to catch up HERE.

Any way, the whole gym fiasco has been going pretty good. I'm down 10lbs, I have some extra energy, clothes are starting to fit better, and in general I feel pretty good. About a month ago my girlfriend Trudy joined the gym (actually, more like got suckered into it.) Seriously peeps, working out has never been so much fun.

Reasons Why You Should Have a Gym Buddy

1. You have someone to try new classes with. Sometimes it can be a little intimidating to try some of the classes the gym has to offer. This is especially true if your about as coordinated as a snail (which I checked, they are not very coordinated).  When you have a friend, you at least have someone to look over to with a face full of sweat, and beat red from trying to keep up, and realize you are not alone.

2. Laughter. Trudy and I did this one class called Sha'bam. A danced based class, complete with jumps, and spins. It was taught by this super energetic guy who had better dance moves then Beyonce.  It was a lot of fun. What made it even funner was the complete fall down laughter that came from watching your friend make a complete ass of her self....and visa versa. . In Trudy's words to me:  "I can't even fucking dance next to you, because you look like one of those Star Search rejects from the 80's with a permanent smile plastered across over your face."

3. Motivation -  There have been days that I don't feel like going, but if Trudy calls me up, I will go. There are times when she wants to leave early, but if I stay for an  extra class or longer on the elliptical, she will too.  She usually tells me I'm a fucking bitch face, and she quits me as a friend....but she stays non the less.

4. Excuse to Hang Out- Trudy and I have been friends since we were 14 years old. As we've gotten older, we realize how busy life can get (babies, jobs, husbands, etc.). Sometimes it's hard to see each other every week, but if we make a couple "gym dates", we are catching up while getting into shape.

5. It's No Longer a Chore: As much as I liked my "me" time at the gym, there were some days that I really had to drag my ass to the gym (and when I say drag, I mean seriously pick my ass up, down an XL coffee, and force myself to get in the truck, and drive to the gym )  When I know I'm going to meet up with Trudy, it doesn't seem  so bad. The work outs go by quick, and its always a laugh fest. It's grade nine gym class all over again.

So take a cue from me and ask (or like I did, force) a friend to go to the gym with you.  If none of them will do it, just tell them your going to get hot without them.  If that still doesn't work, make a friend at the gym.  Either way, working out with a pal is a shit load of fun!

Shauna Lynn