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I bleed red & sweat chocolate…





36 hours.

5 days.

I’ll be over —————–> there curled up in the fetal position, wine bottle in mouth.


My daughter’s 10th birthday is today. I’d actually planned for a post for my OWN birthday, exactly one week ago today…but then the Cosmos snafu’d, my husband came down with a severe case of strep throat and was knicker knocked six ways to Sunday and down for the count for the past five days.

I refer you to line #6.

Line #6, states, “5 days.”

Oh, yes. The very same five days I begged, bartered and bribed each of my two eldest sons to pick up, roll, edge, trim and haul ass to the recycle bin:

My daughter’s gift from all of us was to re-do her room.

Being the only child who really hasn’t had any challenges at all…EVER…I feel that she often feels a bit pushed to the wayward as we focus on journeys of recovering drug addictions, behavioural challenges, surgeries and…y’know…brain eating infections’n’shit.

Fine time for the Cosmos to show up late to the feckin’ party.

I have spent the past five days bleeding, battered (from ramming my cranium into the bed frame of the loft bed so hard I swooned…) and bruised trying to make this room come to fruition for today.

I don’t think I could string a thought together to save my ass, or brush my teeth without crying. But, DAY-UM, peeps…I pondered things and pondered things.

I thought and muttered (and, maybe cussed a few) and processed a lot of the rage-y of the invisibility and of my perceived loneliness and of shit I didn’t realize needed pondering.

The pondering kept me doing and the doing kept me pondering.

Parenting is hard.

Parenting with chronic disease is harder.

Parenting with the Cosmos being snafu’d is just bat-shit crazy and unbelievably unfair.


It’s a new chapter for my daughter. She’s becoming ever-closer with me and, to be quite frank, I’m awkward. I’m SO much more comfortable with boys…I…don’t know why it takes her 40 minutes to pick out a pair of shoes. The first pair fit just fine, eh? But, I aspire to learn from her as much as she learns from “Me.” This is just a wondrous part of the process.

See, she absolutely knows what I live with. Her reaction brought tears to all of our eyes when she opened that door this afternoon. Grateful, thankful and thoroughly astounded.


Listen, I don’t “glorify busy” and I’m sure-as-shit not trying to martyr myself in any way. I asked for help. I plodded along only as swiftly as my Go, Go SpazzyHands would allow.

The end result isn’t just a room, friends…it’s a MEMORY.

Specifically, it’s a memory for my daughter.

What’s with the title, then?

Well, funny story.


I’d had to go to IKEA solo in order to pick up the bed frame. Yes. I did have to.

I’d even managed to scoff off the employee who’d asked if I needed help.

I don’t need it, thanks.

Here’s the thing…I totally feckin’ needed it.

Suffice to say, if the cameras were on me, the security guys were probably clutching their bellies and wiping tears from their ocular orbs but by the gods I got those sumbitch boxes the size of Vancouver onto that goddamn trolley.

But that wasn’t the best part. Oh, no. The best part was my awesomeness that knows NOT to try to load said sumbitch boxes the size of Vancouver into my van.

Nope. I know to open the boxes and just put stuff in, piece by piece. Bit slower, yes…but I was like a thundering herd of turtles anyway.

Ever had a papercut? From paper? From a file folder? From a box with eleventy-billion-ply cardboard?

That's...gonna leave a mark.
That’s…gonna leave a mark.



There is, in fact, three separate slices in there, folks.


True story.




So, anyway…I bleed red, got it? I bled for this project, which, come to think of it, is really pretty normal for me. So…ya.

Then there’s this:

Highly functional AND lickable
Highly functional AND lickable


This…is makeup.

Specifically, makeup translucent powder that I’d made for myself.

Why is this important?

Because one of the ingredients required to craft said powder…is cocoa powder.


I spent five solid days sweating in places I didn’t even know could sweat. THAT, is how much effort I expended for the greater good and things gingerBrynns.

Guys. My face…it literally sweated CHOCOLATE. Not in colour, by the gods, no.



Shit you not. I don’t know how I resisted buying a pint of Haagen Daaz right afterward.


Wanna see?


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That’s her room.

New chapter of the book of her journey through time & space.

I love you, Hannah.


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