Weekly grocery shopping done in under three minutes!

I remember the days when my babies were actually babies and going to the grocery store by myself for an hour in the evening felt like a bloody vacation! I would stretch the time out and walk every single aisle and just listen to the musak playing in the store and read ingredient lists for funsies. 

Fast forward 8 years later, and I now dread grocery shopping. I don't need a Safeway Vacation these days. I need a 2-weeks-on-the-beach-with-my-husband-and-six-books, vacation. PLEASE!?

Unfortunately, that beach vacation is not going to happen anytime soon. In the meantime, I have to find ways to get our weekly food staples into the house, while also maintaining my sanity and avoiding the grocery store. 

Inevitably, every time I go to the store to get milk or bread or eggs, I come out with about 10 other things my stomach thinks we MUST HAVE right now! (Like Licorice Allsorts and Hawkins Cheezies and four different kinds of fancy cheese). This routine is simply not working for our food budget, or my pant size!

Enter the solution: the SPUD Weekly Staples Box

With one simple click, I get over $65 worth of the items we use on a weekly basis, delivered right to my front door!

And now you can too! For the month of March, you can try out SPUD home grocery delivery and the Weekly Staples Box for only $40 a week (new customers)! 

Your time is precious and I really want you to have that hour or more you would have spent driving to the store, picking everything, and then paying for and sometimes packing your own groceries, to do something else. Maybe catch up on your fave Netflix show. Have a family board or card game night. Go for a nice long walk, or get to that class at the gym you can never go to because - stupid grocery shopping!

Go for it! I can't tell you how much SPUD.CA makes my life easier. And you know what, I don't care what anyone says, Organic Milk DOES taste better in my morning latte!

Yours in health(y food) and (extreme) laziness,



*Disclosure: I am a Spud Ambassador and was compensated with a one week trial of the Staples Box. All opinions are truly my own, because I am that lazy and really do hate grocery shopping! 


Happy International Woman's Day! Go forth and GODDESS (or strike)!

I've been scouring the internet all night looking for that one pivotal piece of writing that would sum up what International Women's Day is, why we celebrate it, and why some women are going on strike tomorrow. 

I can't find anything that is working for me.

What I am finding is a lot of women asking who is going on strike? Are you doing it? How? When? What?

These updates and questions remind me of the day before a school dance in junior high. All the girls are asking each other if they will be wearing a skirt or not. No one wants to be the only one showing up in a skirt, and no one want to be the only one showing up not wearing a skirt. 

For anyone wondering... I am not wearing a skirt. Or in this case, going on strike. 

For one thing, I have a job now, one that I really like, and I want to go to work tomorrow. In three days we will be celebrating the 10 year anniversary of my boss's fabulous fashion boutique at her current location and there is so much to do to get the store and ourselves all ready for a weekend of events. 

I can think of no better way to celebrate International Women's Day than supporting and working for a fellow woman, one who left the corporate world to live and work according to her own philosophy of consumerism and lifestyle. 

Sure, maybe I'll wear red too if that makes y'all feel better. You go ahead and wear whatever colour works for you and makes you feel like a bad ass! Be a Shelby and wear pink as your "signature colour." Coordinate the shit outta your outfit! I feel good in green. And blue too. Maybe I'll go with a nice red lippie tomorrow. 

The thing with this strike business, is that it feels a bit elitist. Maybe some of you don't HAVE to go to work and can afford to just not show up, but that is not the reality for the majority of women who are the sole breadwinners for their families, who live paycheck to paycheck, or who will get fired if they don't come in to work. So maybe don't be all in your face to other women about your privilege if that's the case, mkay? 

Now, about all that emotional labour we are often responsible for? Absolutely quit that shit for sure. And maybe not just for the day. Let's make a pact to try to cut down on this bullshit significantly this year. The guys who are working on my new house joke whenever I walk in the door, "Oh-oh, the boss is here." You know what? DAMN FUCKING STRAIGHT GUYS. I am not going to apologize for knowing what I want and telling them how and what to do. 

Ladies, be the fucking bosses in your lives. Support women-owned businesses. Don't let anyone tell you what to wear or not wear to be a "good" feminist. Take out the garbage, or not. Leave the house on Saturday and let everyone know that laundry needs to be done before you get home. Get yourself some sex toys and take care of yourself whenever you need to, with or without a partner. Drink good wine. Or coffee. Or scotch. Buy those shoes that you think are too much, but make your heart sing, AND DON'T HIDE THEM AT THE BACK OF THE CLOSET! 

 Meet my new Stellas!

Meet my new Stellas!

Speak boldly and with conviction. Have all the confidence of a mediocre white man and go forth knowing that the world owes you.... 


Now, I am off to paint with the blood of my menses and drink the tears of #notallmen from my sacred chalice made from the clay of Mother Earth. #feministtraditions




P.S. Except for you Sophie Gregoire Trudeau.



I have made an observation of my life these past few months as I creep closer and closer to the "official" beginning of middle age. It seems my level of righteous indignation at the injustices of this world is increasing at a rate proportional to the amount that I am sweating at night. Which is to say - a whole damn lot!

One particular injustice or societal trend I keep seeing over and over, is something I call the fetishization of men who assume roles of caregiver/feminist/allies. I don't know if there is a technical phrase for this phenomenon, so I kind of made one up. I like to call it, #givingmenallthecookies.

This is why women can’t have nice things in this world. And by nice things, I obviously mean economic, political and societal equality. 

You know what I am talking about. You see the one man wearing a baby in a baby carrier at the playground or the mall, something women do all the damn time (while also doing many other things I would add), and he gets fawned over like he might actually be the ONLY man on the planet at that very moment. 

Or how about the man who got invited to the White House to talk about parental leave because he was denied leave from his employer when his child was born? A few years ago, I sat in a giant conference room full of American mothers, all of whom had zero leave when they had children, as they unironically applauded this man like he was some kind of parental-leave messiah. As one of the few Canadian women in the room (I actually had a full 52 weeks of parental leave - twice!!), I was very confused by this. Why is it that thousands, if not hundreds of thousands of women can fight for something for decades, but the minute it affects a man, and he has something to say about it, it becomes front page news and is White House invitation worthy? Why are the feels of this one new father so much more important than those of the countless mothers who have come before him and have been fighting, seemingly unseen and unheard, for maternity leave in the USA forever? 

The most recent example of #givingmenallthecookies that had me all hot and bothered, was at a recent blogging and social media awards presentation. The list of nominees was impressive. New faces and established bloggers alike, and included many women changing the world through their words, businesses, and online presence. These awards are an opportunity to acknowledge the hard work of many in making these spaces for themselves and others, and at THIS conference, which is primarily targeted at women in the parent blogging community, we celebrate our own. Or so I thought.

Continue reading here....