Friday: The Adventure Begins 🚗☕💥

Tournament weekends are magical… until you realize you’re driving three excited and sugar-fueled teen boys.

Highlights of our Friday:

  • 📞 Prank calls – They were relentless. And they eventually remembered to block their numbers…
  • 💺 Massage chairs at OnRoute – Picture three boys collapsing into heaven while I quietly judged.
  • ☕ Tim Hortons consumption – Enough caffeine to power a small city.

We made it to the London Knights’ rink for a tour. Up close and personal, including their shiny new change room… 👣 bare feet on unknown floors… I silently questioned my life choices.

Lunch? Swamp water returned from the depths of the ’90s Pizza Hut buffet. I honestly thought we left that behind. 🤢


Game Time… Or Snack Time? 🏒🍬

First two games: losses. Did it matter? NOPE.
Mission of the weekend:

  1. Mini sticks in the hotel hallway 🎯
  2. Stuff face with hotel snacks 🍭
  3. Repeat

Hilton lobby snacks = ultimate champion.

Meanwhile, anxiety me: cannot sleep without my husband and other kids. Apparently I have attachment issues. 😬 Send help.


Saturday: Enter Tournament Grey 😑⚡

G woke up… in full tournament “G” mode. Some kids spring out of bed full of sunshine. Greyson? He is… an entire vibe. Thank God I can track him. Hotel breakfast? Cool, he just charges it to the room.

Good news: Chris, Briar, Ben and family from Leamington joined! Chaos + love = perfect combo.

Game 1: Loss.
Chicken wings later: Big win. 🍗✨ Perfect fuel to bring on an even bigger win that afternoon!

Evening madness:

  • 🎤 Live duo in the hotel bar.
  • G’s buddy joined mid-song. Voice of an angel. 😇
  • Zero tequila consumed. Promise.

Mini diary aside: Kids bonding over mini sticks, parents cheering, and me… hanging off of Chris, while wondering how I survived Friday.


Sunday: Reality Hits Like a Puck 🏠💥

Four more games. Practices for other kids. Laundry mountains. Welch’s wrappers everywhere. 🎉

Home = solace. Housework = battlefield.

Yet… the big hugs from RyRy? Totally worth every chaos-filled moment. ❤️


Tournament Survival Guide (With Greyson as Exhibit A) 💡

1. Accept the Grey 😑
Some kids sparkle. Greyson? He’s the whole diamond. Keep your cup full of caffeine to handle the tsunami.

2. Snacks Are Life 🍭
Fruit by the foot, hotel chips, candy wrappers. Just. Let. It. Happen.

3. Mini Sticks > Sleep 🏒
Hallway hockey = happiness. Photos = mandatory. Prayers = optional.

4. Embrace the Chaos 💺🍹
Massage chairs, swamp water, karaoke mid-song… future comedy gold.

5. Prioritize Sanity ☕🛌
Coffee, herbal tea, strategic naps. Laundry waits. YOU cannot.

6. Document Everything 🎥
Elevator stunts, off-key singalongs, tournament faces… future laughter guaranteed.

7. Monday Apocalypse Prep 📋⚡
Lists, chocolate, more lists. House looks like a tornado hit. You survive. Somehow.


Monday: Herbal Tea + Triage Mode 🫖📝

Herbal tea in hand, triage-style lists on paper, sheer willpower in the tank. Reset. Recharge. Prepare for the week ahead.

Tournament weekends: magical, exhausting, hilarious, and unforgettable. Greyson included. And despite the chaos, I wouldn’t trade it for anything. ❤️

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I’m Alanna

Hi, I’m Alanna… a solo-turned-blended mom navigating life with five kids, two bonus kids, one very dramatic cat, and a fiancé I somehow convinced to join this circus willingly. I write about real-life parenting, big family chaos, solo motherhood survival, raising teens and tweens, mom-of-multiples life, blended family dynamics, and rebuilding after the kind of relationship chaos that could be its own Netflix limited series. If you’re looking for a perfectly curated, aesthetically pleasing motherhood blog… you have taken a VERY wrong turn. But if you want honest stories, dark humour, mom wit, and a front-row seat to the beautiful disaster that is raising seven children in a blended family while wrangling a cat who clearly runs this house… welcome. You belong here. I talk openly about life after bring married to an addict, “co-parenting”, starting over, finding joy again, and how love shows up when you least expect it (usually when you’re busy yelling at someone to pick up their socks). So grab a coffee… or something stronger. This is motherhood, but with sarcasm, resilience, and absolutely zero shame.

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