tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-59312111217738723752024-03-13T22:30:06.550-07:00Baby BrainzUnknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger142125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5931211121773872375.post-69502099103189497532014-03-31T06:21:00.000-07:002014-03-31T06:22:05.506-07:00The perfect snowman<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Taunting us with the odd sunny or mild day, buds appearing
on the trees and even crocuses peeking their tips through the snow, Spring has
been reluctant to show us her full beauty this year. I am not alone in feeling
that winter has been long. I’m simply done. I have been for about a month now. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I did however, feel a certain sadness last week as the
temperatures rose above zero and the snow began to melt. Sadness that I had
missed out on truly experiencing winter with my daughter. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I had three goals this winter: take her skating, go snow
shoeing, and build a snow man during an afternoon of rolling around in the snow.
None of those things happened for one reason or another. It was too windy... it
was too icy... the temperatures were too low... it was too icy... or on the days we had great snow and/or
weather I had to work or was in the grip of seasonal depression... also, did I
mention it was icy? So we spent our winter days doing music classes, making art
and going for drives to the locks to watch the water smash through the snow and
ice. While all of that was marvellous, and <i>she</i>
got to go skating a couple times this year (I just wasn’t there to see it), I
didn’t make it out on snowshoes and the snowman just didn’t happen for one
reason or another. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So, this weekend when it was apparent that Spring was being
a little shy again, and we had 6 inches of snow dumped on us I was surprised to
find myself thrilled. Walking outside Sunday morning in the mild air with all
this PERFECT snow fort, snowman, snowball making snow I knew that I would
finally get to have my winter day with my snow angel. It was perfect – snowball
fights (I think we have a future softball player), snow sculptures and yes, a snowman (a wee creepy thanks to the help of Papa (who I think secretly just wanted to get
it over with and made “balls” of snow quickly). </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">We held onto each other and
rolled across the lawn, clumps of snow sticking to the yarn of our scarves and
mittens. We poured maple syrup into clean snow and ate our failed attempt at
toffee. It was joyous and the first time I think I’ve truly just let my walls
down to let my inner child play since the fall. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">How are you making out with our latest dumping of snow?</span><br />
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5931211121773872375.post-6821207526296686102014-01-30T11:41:00.001-08:002014-01-30T11:42:27.131-08:00Top 3 things a toddler can say to make you melt<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Can I hold you Mama?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">This morning my daughter crawled on my lap and asked, "Can I hold you Mama?" I promptly wrapped my arms around her and nuzzled my face in her neck as she did the same to me.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Then she started rocking. Back and forth ever so slowly. When I stopped she looked at me and asked, "Keep rocking Mama?" So I did. And then she started to sing.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />"Rockabye Mama...."</span><br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-hILjxfues6A/TcVf5KCM8JI/AAAAAAAAACw/5ny9CWjwjc4/s1600/mama+vintage.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-hILjxfues6A/TcVf5KCM8JI/AAAAAAAAACw/5ny9CWjwjc4/s1600/mama+vintage.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"Penelly keep singing?" she asked unsure of herself. Through choked off tears I replied with a nod. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I wish I could remember what she sang exactly. It was something along the lines of, "Rockabye Mama in the tree top... wind blows... rocks... down... and all... rainbows... cradle." Which was hilarious and sweet - but then she started making up words like we do with her when we sing her goodnight. She started singing all these things we've said over the past couple months and I sat in awe of how much she truly is absorbing form us. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Then she asked to go brush her teeth. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">#littlemoments</span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5931211121773872375.post-78468208098149479472014-01-02T09:24:00.000-08:002014-01-02T09:58:38.672-08:00Mistakes<span style="line-height: 17.98611068725586px;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="color: #37404e; font-size: 13.333333969116211px;">“I hope that in this year to come, you make mistakes. Because </span><i><b><span style="color: #45818e; font-size: large;">if you are making mistakes, then you are making new things</span></b></i><span style="color: #37404e; font-size: 13.333333969116211px;">, trying new things, learning, living, pushing yourself, changing yourself, changing your world. You’re doing things you’ve never done before, and more importantly, you’re <b>Doing Something</b>.</span></span></span><br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-D6E-dwFFlog/UsWeQu_J8JI/AAAAAAAAEMY/VIJkAiaAtjQ/s1600/images.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-D6E-dwFFlog/UsWeQu_J8JI/AAAAAAAAEMY/VIJkAiaAtjQ/s1600/images.jpg" /></span></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br style="color: #37404e; font-size: 13.333333969116211px; line-height: 17.98611068725586px;" /><span style="color: #37404e; font-size: 13.333333969116211px; line-height: 17.98611068725586px;">So that’s my wish for you, and all of us, and my wish for myself. Make New Mistakes. Make </span><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline; line-height: 17.98611068725586px;"><span style="color: #45818e; font-size: large;"><b><i>glorious, amazing mistakes</i></b></span></span><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline; font-size: 13.333333969116211px; line-height: 17.98611068725586px;"><span style="color: #45818e;">.</span><span style="color: #37404e;"> Make mistakes nobody’s ever made before. Don’t freeze, don’t stop, don’t worry that it isn’t good enough, or it isn’t perfect, whatever it is: art, or love, or work or family or life. Whatever it is you’re scared of doing, Do it. Make your mistakes, next year and forever.” </span></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: 13.333333969116211px; line-height: 17.98611068725586px;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">--Neil Gaiman</span></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 17.98611068725586px;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 13.333333969116211px;">Hear that Mamas? Papas? Parents to be? This quote sparks so much emotion, determination and motivation in me, and on many different levels. It is the epitome of inspiration: a mistake. Think of all the remarkable things you have done in your life after you've made a mistake. Now imagine if we put that determination to doing amazing things after making a mistake with our children rather than beat ourselves up; rather than live in the shadow of this fear that we'll do it again. OF COURSE we're going to do it again. Hopefully not the same mistakes, but mistakes all the same. </span></span></span><br />
<span style="line-height: 17.98611068725586px;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />So, what if we applied Gaiman's quote to parenting in 2014. Are we going to make mistakes? I sure as hell hope so! Why? because they help us grow as people and as parents. They are the fuel that will help us to become the guide and mentor we aspire to be, and to provide for our children one day. I say let's make them with childhood wonder, take a lesson from every single one of them and<span style="font-size: 13.333333969116211px;"> </span><i><b><span style="color: #45818e; font-size: large;">experience what comes from the mistakes.</span></b></i><br /><br /><span style="font-size: 13.333333969116211px;">Happy New Year my Lovelies.</span></span></span></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5931211121773872375.post-74494483867666325802013-12-17T14:53:00.000-08:002013-12-17T14:53:03.418-08:00The boob post. <span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I never thought I would write such a detailed post about my breasts, let alone how much of a pain they can be. I mean they're small and don't really get in the way - I can run without support just fine and I'd be stretched to squish them into a little black dress (they don't really squish). I'm talking about literal pain... and <span style="font-size: large;"><i>h</i></span></span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><i>ere I am: slightly delirious from flu like symptoms, typing away with potato in my bra. </i></span></span><div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Yeah, a fucking potato. Mr. Potato Head met his maker today (but part of him is getting some serious action). </span></div>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-NTK3q-QWr3s/UrCSFGJmuwI/AAAAAAAADZE/If6U1-s5s28/s1600/potato.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-NTK3q-QWr3s/UrCSFGJmuwI/AAAAAAAADZE/If6U1-s5s28/s1600/potato.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I have a blocked duct. Or, with the low energy-nauseous-achy all over-can't seem to get warm no matter how many blankets I pile on - kind of feeling, mastitis. The later is likely but we won't know for sure until tomorrow. There is a script in my purse that I am hesitant to fill. M</span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">y lactation consultant agrees.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I love my breasts, so it </span><i style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">pains </i><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">me to write anything </span><i style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">ill </i><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">about them. (HA! Sorry that just kind of happened!) But in all seriousness this </span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">is one of the most painful things I have experienced. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It started with a stabbing pain in my left breast. I was walking up the stairs, minding my own business when <b>Ghosty decided to punch me right in the boob</b>. Okay, it wasn't the ghost apparently, it was my breast producing milk and my duct not allowing it to flow. <br /><br />My daughter is almost two and a half and I have nursed her (just once a day, if that, for the past few months) this long without having any complications. A wee bit of chapping when she was first born but no yeast issues, no latch problems and thankfully no concern when it came to supply. Which is how at 2.5 when she's feeling really off at a party and needing comfort I can nurse her just fine. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">After my appointment today, we assume it's because my supply is still abundant and she was able to get it flowing again with a big nurse on the weekend, but she didn't quite drain it.... and voila! A blockage. I am amazed that it can happen that easily and how the pain came on so suddenly. That pain? It's severe. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I found </span><a href="http://www.nbci.ca/index.php?option=com_content&id=7:blocked-ducts-a-m" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;" target="_blank">this article</a><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> that is really close to what my specialist was saying - and although I recommend you head to one yourself - this might give you some comfort and help you stay on top of it. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Or, if you've been through this - <span style="font-size: large;"><b>what's the best way you got things flowing again?</b></span></span></div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5931211121773872375.post-44947936937591710382013-11-28T06:36:00.005-08:002013-11-28T06:56:59.287-08:00The Best Day of My Life<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Today. Today is going to be the best day of my life. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Why?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Because my daughter asked to dance with me. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I work part time at a theatre which sometimes can lead to incredibly late and long I've-been-on-my-feet-for-6-hours-straight-with-no-break nights. Last night was one of them. Exhaustion this morning took over my limbs but my daughter thankfully doesn't understand and insisted "MAMA! Mama get up!!!" </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Penelope help my hand as I obligingly roused myself and lead me towards my slippers and a blissfully delicious cup of coffee. We made a smoothie together (ever see a 2+ year old react to a blender being used? I highly recommend it), sat and shared a glass together, and then she looked up at me and said words that are music to my soul...</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"Mama, I want to dance!"</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">We sat on the computer and I let her chose what categories she wanted from Songza. Her choices lead us here. (Take three and a half minutes to listen... and if you fancy - dance!)</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="//www.youtube.com/embed/Y66j_BUCBMY" width="560"></iframe><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">At first we just danced on our own, then danced down the hallway and in circles - and then this moment came where she asked to be picked up. Climbing my torso like a tree she pulled herself up so we were cheek and cheek, pressed her face against mine as hard as she could, wrapped her arms around my neck and said, "Love you Mama". And then we danced with our faces squished against each other, holding each other tightly and hoping the song would never end. Okay, that last part might just have been me ;)</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">best. dance. of. my. life.</span>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5931211121773872375.post-50605110181037585482013-10-30T07:00:00.000-07:002013-10-30T07:29:38.597-07:00The big BIG emotions of a two year old... and the even bigger emotions of her mama<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b>We have a two year old.</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">That sentence should be all I need to type for most to understand and empathize with what we've been struggling with over the past little while. The tantrums, the NOs, the refusal to get dressed/brush teeth/eat dinner/go to bed, pushing us away in anger, the whining -<i> oh. my. gods. the whining</i> and stubbornness to boot. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">It's the big emotions of a two year old - they're growing and developing at a rapid rate and they are responding authentically, albeit brain stabbingly painfully for us. <i>I envy the truth to their actions and emotions. </i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">My emotions are just as big, maybe even bigger, as I learn how to deal with the anger that results from the shrieking-hairpulling-punching-kicking-and-screaming-in-the-middle-of-the-street-moments. I'm not proud. I yell at my kid sometimes. I wish I could tap in to some ujjayi breath and pause before I react more often than I do, but honestly ...</span><br />
<b><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">by the end of the day I want to be the one </span></span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">shrieking-hairpulling-punching-kicking-and-screaming</span>. </span></b><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">We have been taught, trained, to unlearn natural human responses as we've grown into adulthood. We're taught not to cry when we're sad, or not to yell when we're angry. The focus has been on happiness and bliss for so long <b><span style="font-size: large;">we are forgetting what it's like to react to our authentic emotions. </span></b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">The only thing we seem to be encouraged to do is to laugh or smile when we're happy. A lot of people can't even cry when they're sad because they've been so conditioned. </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I once wrote about screaming into pillows - and underwater - and it's the greatest feeling because you can release the emotion that has boiled up inside you. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Really, that's all our toddlers are doing... releasing and expressing their emotions. I want to try to let my girl work her emotions out for herself - for her to learn how to be a good listener and understand what is happening. I know, I know... it'll come with time. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">For now I'm trying to focus on </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">the flip side. That with all of the above comes the wonderous development of a two year old. Seeing them struggle with a puzzle or a toy and its mechanics only to witness the "ah-ha" moment when it seems to click for them. Hearing them try to string sentences together in an attempt to communicate more fully... and hearing them repeat the same word over and over trying to get their point across through the power of inflection. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Discovering colours, feeling how their bodies move when they dance and how their voice sounds when they sing. Learning to use the toilet and brush their own teeth... it's all fascinating to watch. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">That being said... I'm still looking for ways to stop and <i>breathe </i>before reacting. Have any tips?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5931211121773872375.post-88710287891316344602013-09-22T14:12:00.003-07:002013-09-22T14:31:37.772-07:00Through the seasons...<span style="line-height: 18px;"><b><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>"and the leaves were telling secrets to the wind...that falling is just another way to fly." </i></span></b><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 18px;">That quote seems so delightfully appropriate as we celebrate the fall equinox. This moment of balance between light and dark.</span><br />
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<span style="line-height: 18px;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I have journeyed through the dark, and danced in the light. It's amazing what you go through, <b>not just as a mother but as a person</b> when your world shifts from light to dark and back again - from falling to flying as the quote suggests. We all go through these transitions, the cycles of the seasons within ourselves - over and over - it's never ending. We plant seeds, we watch them grow, we harvest them and we hibernate.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 18px;">As we get closer to the end of this year's cycle I see how balanced the falling has helped me become. How much more centered I feel being </span><b style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 18px;">aware </b><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 18px;">of what season I'm in, within myself. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;">I used to celebrate each turn of the year with formal, sometimes elaborate, rituals. Over the past few years, however; I have come to mark the season's changes through participation - my physical actions a meditation for the changes within that coincide. </span></span><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;">To mark the harvest we canned, we picked apples and roasted vegetables, and a</span><span style="line-height: 18px;">s we did this I thought much about the seeds I had planted in the spring for myself..</span></span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 18px;">.</span>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I </span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 18px;"> thought about how today marks the beginning </span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 18px;">of </span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 18px;">the next chapter of the year and</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 18px;">how abundant our harvest will be. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 18px;">I </span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">have always struggled in my relationships - professional and personal - co-worker, sister, daughter, lover, mother... often it didn't matter. My depression fed insecurities. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Once I started to deal with the dark and learn to be okay in the light, I was able to make more of an effort to give energy back to those who gave it to me. I always doubted the happy, feeling more comfortable in the lows than the highs. Once I became aware of this </span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I made a conscious decision to have relationships that were fair and equal exchanges of energy. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Rather than simply planting a seed and seeing what would happen, I nurtured my relationships; I watered and sunned what sprouted. And I am forever grateful the seasons helped me do that. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">This time of year is indeed about harvesting; for me it's about being grateful for the gatherings that took place all summer which enriched those relationships, and myself by proxy. I now sit calmly knowing that I have love and respect coming from so many different directions and where before I would doubt it, or its sincerity, I now unquestionably accept it as part of my bountiful harvest. I know that I'm deserving of it, because I helped it grow. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">A blessed Mabon/Autumn Equinox. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5931211121773872375.post-25282441782742421432013-09-18T08:06:00.002-07:002013-09-20T05:35:40.966-07:00Mama's night out - dishcrawl style<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It's Mama's night out and I'm on a dishcrawl. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">What's a dishcrawl you ask? It's like a pub crawl, but rather than have your head swimming from too much booze, your stomach is bloated and delightfully full from all the food you've eaten. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />We stumble all the same.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">For the next three hours we will visit four restaurants, with three samples at each. The theme: a foodie's paradise. <b>NOM NOM</b>.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The night starts off with a glass of wine at the first restaurant and I'm delighted to see an old co-worker has joined the tour. I catch up on all the gossip from my old radio station - which is indeed juicy with news of former co-workers, and I fall into a relaxed rhythm of chatting with a handful of the other people doing the crawl. It turns out I know a few people and the night turns into a little bit like work as I network and possibly score myself a new freelance client. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I take out my fancy new phone that takes great photos - then I realize restaurants and pubs are dimly lit and i should have brought the good camera. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The other mama shows up. She has brought her husband. So much for a mama's night out. But I really like her husband so it's okay. Kiss kiss. More wine please, and bring on the food. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Arnaud, who manages the Tir N'an Og downtown gives a delightful spiel on the pulled pork hoagie we're about to ingest - it's on a pretzel bun and it's AMAZING. Gluten-free goes out the window for the night. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Good thing, because after a beef and mushroom pot accompanied by a yummy grapefruit draught (only 2% - it's so light it tastes a bit like juice... if juice had hops) they bring us the temptress that is a deep fried red velvet donut dusted with sugar and drizzled with white chocolate. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: center;">It goes great with the last of my wine. We are rushed out of the pub as we are running late. I will get a smaller glass of wine next time.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I'm pleasantly fuzzy as we trek to the next stop on the tour, which happens to be one of my favorite spots downtown Sir John A's Public House. Here I get giddy with excitement for Scottish fare - yes haggis with gravy is included and it's all melt-in-your-mouth-joy-on-the-palette. (piccalilli relish ftw!)</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Paul, the owner, regales us with tales of the food we're about to eat and how it's prepared. </span><br />
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<i style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>This evening is delicious and educational - who knew!?</b></i><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">We are whisked off to the next location, Chez Piggy. It's beautiful but I love the pub and wish we could have stayed there longer. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">My attitude quickly changes as the chef chats about the local and sustainable food choices they are serving. Organic Enright Cattle - deepfried oysters - and the most exquisite cheese I have ever tasted, sourced from Woodstock ON -- "We sell it next door in our bakery," Chef Ian says - which causes me to dance on the inside knowing I'll be back tomorrow for more. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">My editor from one of the papers I write for shows up and we decide to slowly finish our glasses of wine. We get so caught up with work talk that we miss the group going to the next and final stop for dessert. I know it's amazing carrot cake from SIPPS but rather than rush for it, we realize they'll be half way through by now, and I trust my pregnant mama friend to eat my portion so we finish our night on a work note. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Being able to taste all these samplings from a restaurant's menu and do so from FOUR different spots was an incredible experience. I'm happy dishcrawl has come to Kingston and honestly, can't wait to go on the next one Wednesday, October 23. This next one I'm sure will see a group of mamas trekking through the downtown core tasting from place to place. It's too good a deal not to. C</span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">hristine, the organizer (that's her below) tells me she's aiming for a haunted theme. Awesome.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b style="font-style: italic;">***update: So it turns out Christine likes the blog and has offered a free ticket to the next event to give a deserving mama the chance to join us!</b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b style="font-style: italic;">Enter by telling us in the comments below why you need a mama's (or papa's) night out and you could win a free ticket to the next dishcrawl! (value: $60)</b><br /><br />Get additional entries by:<br />Liking the <a href="https://www.facebook.com/BabyBrainz" target="_blank"> baby brainz page on facebook</a> and by sharing </span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">this post on your facebook or twitter (if it's twitter - please make sure you tag @ArtsPromoYGK or retweet the existing post)</span><br />
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5931211121773872375.post-11454274916478911152013-09-17T11:46:00.001-07:002013-09-17T11:57:37.793-07:00clowns, rides, sugar and a petting zoo - what could possibly be wrong with this equation?<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Okay, so she didn't get any sugar. I know, I know - I'm a shitty mom. Take your kid to the fall fair and don't let them get cotton candy <b>or </b>a candy apple. </span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">We will all be thankful at bedtime tonight and my natural mama instincts will be glad that I didn't allow my child to ingest a pound of refined sugar. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">But still, w</span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">hat an asshole. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I did, however; completely guilt trip my partner into taking us so the afternoon was about rides - primarily so he could get me to shut my trap about not having been on one since way before mamadom <i>3 years ago</i> - it was also about demolition derby (no, I'm not joking actually) and attempting to get our child excited about goats and chickens, donkeys and llamas. The llamas she dug. The rest she didn't really have any use for. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Until she saw the horses of the merry-go-round. I never got why they called it the "merry"-go-round. I mean, yeah I'm not so dense that I miss the "go-round" part, but I never found the ride exceptionally happy. Now I get it. The look on a two year old's face when, after picking out her favorite color of horse (oooge), going round and round and up and down, registers that she is indeed holding on to a horse and going round and round and up and down. </span><br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-7kHsz4EGRms/Ujik-W8SnJI/AAAAAAAACM8/68aToqznT9o/s1600/IMG_20130915_161353%5B1%5D.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-7kHsz4EGRms/Ujik-W8SnJI/AAAAAAAACM8/68aToqznT9o/s320/IMG_20130915_161353%5B1%5D.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="text-align: center;"> </span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: center;">Also, when she spots her papa filming from the crowd and yells out a "HI PAPA" so loud I'm convinced he can hear it over the insane clowns-a-dancing-carnival music. He cannot. </span><br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-xqZOmEiEVqo/UjilIYWLMuI/AAAAAAAACNE/bbWI9SF6hDk/s1600/IMG_20130915_162321%5B1%5D.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-xqZOmEiEVqo/UjilIYWLMuI/AAAAAAAACNE/bbWI9SF6hDk/s320/IMG_20130915_162321%5B1%5D.jpg" width="240" /></a><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The slide was the other ride she got to experience. I have a photo of me and my grandfather on one of these from when I was 3. Who was I to deny the kid the slide.</span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />She didn't love it. It was just... well, it was. Not as much excitement as I had hoped for. Expectations right? </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Interspersed with all of this I got to go on a ride with my friend Liz - who seems to be the only person in my life who isn't lame and will go on rides with me - and even the reluctant grump went on a ride.... </span><br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-qndUi99B0aQ/UjilQOwd4XI/AAAAAAAACNM/kJACuUF3Dxg/s1600/IMG_20130915_162726%5B1%5D.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-qndUi99B0aQ/UjilQOwd4XI/AAAAAAAACNM/kJACuUF3Dxg/s320/IMG_20130915_162726%5B1%5D.jpg" width="240" /></a><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">and LOVED IT. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The fair is so much more fun when you go on rides. Even when you don't get the sugar. </span></div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5931211121773872375.post-58813563536916312462013-08-26T18:37:00.000-07:002013-08-26T18:42:44.840-07:00Tribe. Fire. Sisters.<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Women for centuries have been raising babies together. Gathering food and water. Forming a community within themselves where secrets are shared, tears are shed and honesty is prevalent.</span><br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-zYBzG8iWzDg/UhwCk8Z0rDI/AAAAAAAACAQ/hOLiq8cyjjI/s1600/sisters.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-zYBzG8iWzDg/UhwCk8Z0rDI/AAAAAAAACAQ/hOLiq8cyjjI/s320/sisters.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">My sisters are plenty and each of them I cherish. While I have an equally wonderful tribe of mamas and friends in the city in which I live, I am also very blessed to be part of a tribe of intelligent, fiercely beautiful women. These are women I have known for well over a decade, who met me as a coming-in-to-my-own-but-I'm-still-lost-twenty-something, and who have grown with me into adulthood. Each of them have had their own majestic and heart-wrenching experiences along the way. Through it, we know each other. No walls. No bullshit. Just raw beings; wild women who see one another in truth.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Because of my life's path and because I live much further away, I sadly only see these delicious creatures once or twice a year. It u</span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">sed to be more - as the summer festivals rolled around, we would congregate in forests, and clearings, farm houses and campsites to reconnect, to share and learn from one another; to run Amok and partake in shenanigans - often around a gargantuan bonfire, the sounds of drums and giggles our soundtrack.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">This year there were giggles. There were drums. There was fire. We were and are tribe. But it's different now. Rather than see the sun come up because we are stumbling back to our tents from hours of dancing and running amok for hours, we see the sun come up because we are waking with our toddlers. We are taking arnica or advil for our aches from sleeping on the ground instead of the fact that we had too much mead or because our hands hurt from beating a drum all night. But, instead of mourning the festivals past, I have come to grow content in the gentle shifts. (There may or may not have been a bit of pouting and nostalgia along the way.) </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It was being faced with a choice that caused me to realize I had reached that point, that I had indeed shifted... Upon coming out of the privy a few nights back (yes, there are privies in the woods if you know the right people) I had a choice. I could turn left and follow the sounds of the drums, knowing it would take me to fire, dancing, frolicking and letting the wild woman in me run, if only for a couple hours. </span></div>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-k-OxXJzwmeM/UhwCneXrV9I/AAAAAAAACAY/jIPyVMcuOCo/s1600/sister+quote.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="254" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-k-OxXJzwmeM/UhwCneXrV9I/AAAAAAAACAY/jIPyVMcuOCo/s320/sister+quote.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Or, I could turn right and follow the sounds of my child crying and my partner attempting to soothe her back to sleep. I wasn't aware that I had a choice, let alone that I was making it until I was at my tent unzipping the door to fold my girl into my arms and give my love a sweet, gentle kiss goodnight, telling him he was a beautiful father.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">As I lay there the next morning I realized that it wasn't so much a sacrifice as it was a shift to not run with the wolves that night. That shift wouldn't, couldn't, have happened without the support of my sisters. We will run again, and often... and thanks to that, our pups might just run along with us.</span></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5931211121773872375.post-63757715459376260732013-08-16T18:16:00.000-07:002013-08-16T18:16:50.653-07:00Night Mama<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">A tired girl flops on the bed, tucks her head into the crook of her elbow. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">She feels the softness of the blanket coming up around her shoulders, and each corner of it being straightened out to ensure each bit of flesh is covered in comfort. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">A hand rests on her back, reassuringly stroking it up and down, soothing her into slumber.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">With a little pat on the bum and a kiss on the head, she hears her daughter whisper "Mama, sleep. Night Mama."</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Nothing better than being tucked in by a two year old. <3</span></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5931211121773872375.post-7600033383204454602013-08-14T11:33:00.001-07:002013-08-14T11:35:46.841-07:00The unexpected that will make your whole day...<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">As I begin to recover from from a serious bout of pneumonia, I'm also learning how to be with a toddler again. Between grandparents taking her for days on end and the last few evenings spent as "family time", today was the first day in a week and a half that it was just me and my girl. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I won't lie. I was nervous when I got out of bed this morning. Would I have enough energy to keep up with her? Will I have the patience to deal with her tantrums and fussy food choices? Will I get a break today from the punching and kicking (our home has now become a zero tolerance household for hitting)?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">After a morning of sitting on the kitchen floor sharing "tea", laughing at the breakfast table and dancing to the radio, my sweet and thoughtful girl - who was full of smiles and giggles - and I went for a bike ride. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I'm not sure if it was the cool air, the joy of being on the bicycle, or just the right amount of caffeine, but we swung, slid, and ran around in circles until our noses were red. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Wanting to keep those caffeine levels up, I grabbed a coffee </span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">and another "tea" for P - it's water in a take out cup in case you were wondering) </span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">before we headed back home. We sipped our beverages while strolling along window shopping. Turns out my daughter doesn't mind shopping, or strolling. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And THIS was when the most amazing thing happened. As Penelope and I are having a conversation about why she has to wait until we got home to eat lunch and I was unlocking ma bicyclette, I noticed this man sitting on the patio of the cafe - just looking at us. Seriously, just staring. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">He met my eyes, smiled and said, "You are a great mother!" Followed by an exceptionally stunned expression in which he was obviously surprised that he had blurted out the words. He then said pointing to the bike chariot, "I can just tell. You - You're a great mother."</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">To which I responded, "Thank you kind sir - you just made my whole day!"</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I've been on the receiving end of harsh criticism from strangers who feel they know what's best for your child (it's a strange phenomenon we are all victim to, much like the horrible birth stories we hear from strangers while we're pregnant) I've never received such a compliment and biking home I couldn't help but marvel at how one sentence of kindness could erase the residual negativity that tends to get left behind after your parenting in public is judged. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Lesson: Some days, NOTHING is as you expect it will be, and almost always it will be better.</span><br />
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5931211121773872375.post-16245385472038203722013-08-01T10:00:00.000-07:002013-08-01T10:00:01.168-07:00"I WANT TO POOP"<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-QGF4DT5OiNw/UfqTgKHKWCI/AAAAAAAABgU/zn2HM-kAImk/s1600/shit.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="224" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-QGF4DT5OiNw/UfqTgKHKWCI/AAAAAAAABgU/zn2HM-kAImk/s320/shit.png" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Yes, it's another poop post. Tantrums and shit.This is my life.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">We have moved into the dreaded potty training stage and it turns out, it actually <u>is </u>fascinating - IF YOU HAVE KIDS. If you don't... this is not going to be your favorite post.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">At first I wasn't sure that P was ready but when we went camping at the cottage a couple weeks ago, she discovered a small chamber pot. Surprisingly, she took to it right away yelling for me when she had to go, squeezing her little butt cheeks together until I could get it underneath her. I won't lie, I was impressed. <i><span style="font-size: large;">I never thought I'd be impressed by the ability to control our own bodily functions</span></i>, but there it is (kids are freaking fascinating sometimes!) </span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">me - impressed.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I really want to do diaperless training, but I'm thinking the day care isn't really going to be on board with that idea so we've purchased a little mini seat that attaches to the lid on our toilet and that annoyingly jabs us in the back every time we use the crown, and a <a href="http://www.green-talk.com/2010/04/05/becopotty-seat-biodegradable-bum-seat/" target="_blank">little compostable potty</a> for downstairs. Yes, you can plant it afterwards and the poop pot will help grow a tree. </span><br />
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This is where I wanted to put a photo of a tree coming out of a potty but it turns out they are really hard to find on the interweb so you just have to imagine it.<br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So now we have something for her to sit on both up and down, the kid is obsessed. Mind you she's not actually using the toilet but she REALLY likes to sit on the seat and pretend. She has also come to the realization that she's able to delay bedtime by screaming, <b><i><span style="color: #741b47; font-size: large;">"I WAN'T TO POOP"</span></i></b> at the top of her lungs.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />While she's great with dropping the kids off at the pool, the bladder release isn't going so well in terms of her actually getting it <b>in </b>the potty. At this rate I'm going to have to buy stock in Bounty. Have you ever had to soak up a spilled drink on a hardwood floor? It's a little like that but gross.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">No major accidents yet, although I'm sure they're coming... any pointers parents? <b><span style="font-size: large;"><i>How did you get your kids to actually use the toilet rather than just sit on it?</i></span></b> Did you use pull ups? diapers? go the naked route?</span><br />
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5931211121773872375.post-70745577179573688462013-07-26T09:54:00.008-07:002013-07-26T10:10:01.620-07:00Welcome to the Terrible Twos<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Se-FYrC_vFQ/UfKiAY7vMsI/AAAAAAAABZQ/H9FEulQYVUs/s1600/warning_sign+TERRIBLE+copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="256" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Se-FYrC_vFQ/UfKiAY7vMsI/AAAAAAAABZQ/H9FEulQYVUs/s400/warning_sign+TERRIBLE+copy.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">When we struggled with how to handle our daughter’s
biting/hitting/kicking/pinching/slapping, a lot of people – friends and
strangers alike – tended to comment the same way, “oh, wait until she hits
those terrible twos” and smile sweetly as if they know terrible secrets of
what’s to come.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Well, here we are. The second birthday has passed.</span><i style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b> My suit
of armour is shined and I’m ready for battle. </b></i><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Let’s be honest, the tantrums have
been happening for a while and the comments have been happening even longer.
While we tend to think, “people just like to give advice,” I’m starting to
think people simply like to add another to their circle of misery. What’s that
they say about it enjoying company?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I’m not quite sure where the incessant need to crap on
someone’s parade comes from, rather than offer solutions or introduce other
parents to tactics that might encourage her to be more gentle. Is it like this
all over the globe? Or is this a horrible first world problem that just needs
to stop? </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Mama drama, competitive playgroups and partner and MIL
bitching sessions aside, I want to know why people insist on pointing out how
much worse it’s going to get! </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><i>Telling me today that my daughter’s massive, epic
shit storm is nothing in comparison of what’s to come isn’t going to make me
feel better about having to deal with today. </i></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Is it because they feel the responsibility to warn parents
that the proverbial shit is about to hit the fan? Do they feel that because
they had to endure it, now it’s their turn to sit on higher ground watching someone
else go through it?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So here’s a thought... all the parents who now have young
toddlers, <i><b>let’s take a vow</b></i> to refrain from telling new moms it’s going to get
worse. Let’s instead offer encouragement. I’m not talking about blowing smoke
and making things seem all rosy - always be REAL! But, hey teething sucks,
growing pains are tough, brain development is happening at a rapid pace and we
already know these are going to be hard years ahead. How about we tell our
friend, or that stranger in the park who is on the verge of tears because her
kid just bit her, ran away and is climbing on top of the four year old by the
slide and simply won’t listen to her, that she is an INCREDIBLE MOM and offer
to help!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I want people in my life who<i><b> make a choice</b></i> to help each
other through the tantrums with funny tales, who will be there through the
breakdowns with a hug – because tears flow after you’ve been kicked in the nose
for the fourth time that day – or bring coffee (or even better, wine) to
parents who have had especially long, difficult days. My favorite: show up at
their doorstep unannounced when you know they’ve had a sleepless night and
offer to take the kid for a walk so they can nap, or read, or sit in a tub with
a glass of wine. Yes, you are seeing a trend – every mama needs wine!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Let’s come together to make the twos (and from what I’m
hearing now... threes) a little more bearable. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">What have you done to help out a
new parent with a crazy toddler?</span></div>
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5931211121773872375.post-14332204938285798542013-07-10T12:40:00.003-07:002013-07-10T14:19:12.616-07:00The no game<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">The conversation that just took place after Penelope threw a plate on the floor...</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Me: Let's try to keep the plate on the table Poppet</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Penelope: No.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Me: Yes</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Penelope: No!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Mama: Yes</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Penelope: No. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Me: No</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Penelope: No</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Me: No</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">*confused look*</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Penelope: Bubbles!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5931211121773872375.post-86542688023382277192013-06-05T06:04:00.000-07:002013-06-05T16:57:59.250-07:00Happy Hips<div class="MsoNormal">
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: x-small;"><i><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;">This post is part of </span></i><span lang="EN-US"><a href="http://yummymummyclub.ca/"><i><span style="color: blue; font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;">YummyMummyClub.ca</span></i></a></span><i><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;">'s support
of the Dove</span></i><i><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;">® Unstoppable Moms for Unstoppable Girls
Contest. I received compensation as a thank you for my participation. This
post reflects my personal opinion about the information provided by the
sponsors. Go to </span></i><span lang="EN-US"><a href="https://www.unstoppablemoms.ca/default.aspx?utm_source=YMCBlog&utm_medium=various&utm_campaign=doveloblaw"><i><span style="font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;">www.UnstoppableMoms.ca</span></i></a></span></span><i><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: small;"> to enter by
sharing how you inspire girls to reach their full potential.</span><o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">When my daughter
was a little more than three months old, I came out of the haze most women
enter as soon as their child leaves the womb. I realized I had been going
through the motions and started actively working on learning to love the new
me; the mom. Somewhere between "</span><i style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Oh shit, I'm pregnant</i><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">" and "</span><i style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Hang
on, Penelope needs boob</i><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">," I acquired a couple curves. So I should say
I've also been actively working on learning to love my new body. </span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Finding a
balance between mamahood and all the things I love to do is difficult some
days, but not impossible by any means. I'm a mom. But I'm also a partner, a
broadcaster, a lover, a painter, a promoter, a yoga enthusiast, a writer, a
sister, a daughter... you get the drift; <span style="font-size: large;"><b><i>I'm not self identifying as only a mother. </i></b><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I'm also a
novice belly dancer. I was asked to participate in a cabaret show and at first
I thought hellll no; I'm not good enough to solo in front of people; I'm not
back to my pre baby body; my costumes don’t fit right; I'm not... I'm not...
I'm not... Then I realized I was being ridiculous. I decided to try to turn
those negative thoughts around in my head and focus on what I am! I AM a belly
dancer, I LOVE playing dress up and being painted, I AM a performer! <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">So <span style="font-size: large;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">rather than
give up something I truly love doing</i><b><i>, I put my ego and insecurity aside</i></b></span><i> </i>and
teamed up with my favorite body painter Shelley Bellefontaine, from <a href="http://www.you-name-it.ca/" target="_blank">You-Name-It Face and BodyArt</a>, to create something spectacular for a circus themed puppet cabaret show: a
snake lady.</span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-5U7xVJhxmt4/Ts7Xki3Z98I/AAAAAAAAAP0/ahIRLYW0dfE/s1600/IMG_8012.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-5U7xVJhxmt4/Ts7Xki3Z98I/AAAAAAAAAP0/ahIRLYW0dfE/s320/IMG_8012.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Sure, I was
hiding behind a mask, and a layer or two of body paint. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Y_PVH5bE3hM/Ua80LGjH2jI/AAAAAAAABGQ/Rc75SQMiv4o/s1600/IMG_8065.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Y_PVH5bE3hM/Ua80LGjH2jI/AAAAAAAABGQ/Rc75SQMiv4o/s320/IMG_8065.JPG" width="213" /></a></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I was also dancing in
</span><i style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">nothing but</i><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> that body paint, in my new mama body! Really, what better way than
dancing in front of 200 people in nothing but paint to a) stop taking myself so
seriously, b) try to let go of being in control of everything and most importantly c) fall in
love with, and be comfortable in, my new body. I figured if the dance
wasn't A+ at least we'd have fun painting, and I could tackle all of the
above. </span></div>
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</div>
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">
Everything that could go "wrong" did. I cried through the process of
creating the costume - sewing slinky fabric is like trying to walk a straight
line after 6 shots of tequila; the air brush machine didn't work the first
night; the paint came off certain parts of my body before I hit the stage; and
having my daughter in the audience for one of the performances caused my
breasts to engorge so much I thought the nipple covers were going to come off
while I was dancing.</span><br />
<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">But, who do you
think I was dancing for? Every time I shimmied or did a belly roll in my living
room, while I fought for my body to remember movements, there was this wrinkly
innocent being staring at me that giggled every time I did a hip lift in her
direction, that was so full of delight simply from watching me dance.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Through all of
it, I got confirmation that everything happens for a reason, and that we can
control nothing but our attitudes. In doing the show,<b> <span style="color: #cc0000; font-size: large;"><i>ego turned to self-confidence,
insecurity to self-awareness and control to whimsical frivolity</i></span></b><i><span style="color: #cc0000; font-size: large;"><b>.</b></span> </i>Those
three things just happen to be what make me beautiful. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">A year and half
later, I’m still working on me. Trying to improve my attitude; working on my
ability to see situations from multiple perspectives and recognizing; and
dealing with my issues, rather than projecting them onto other areas of my
life. It's a never-ending learning process and it helps me be the person I want
to be. <b><i><span style="font-size: large;">Just because I had a baby doesn't mean I'm going to stop looking within.</span>
</i></b>If anything it has caused me to look deeper. I'm hoping this will help guide me
to become the mom I dream of being and by her seeing this within me, she’ll become an unstoppable girl. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-3UaDZsGIWtA/T5qW8qaFWMI/AAAAAAAAAY8/Q3QJZt-Amas/s1600/Family+044.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-3UaDZsGIWtA/T5qW8qaFWMI/AAAAAAAAAY8/Q3QJZt-Amas/s320/Family+044.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Let’s <b>talk </b>about
how moms can improve how our daughters view their bodies. Because, just
as it is our responsibility to ensure our children are eating well and that
we’re stimulating their minds and hearts, it's up to us to<b> <span style="color: #cc0000; font-size: large;"><i>encourage
participation</i></span></b> in activities and to <b><span style="color: #cc0000; font-size: large;"><i>engage in communication</i></span></b> about any self
esteem issues that may arise. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I hope I’m able to encourage by example, that when
my daughter sees me taking joy in <i>how </i>my body moves, rather than comparing how
it looks to others’, it's integrated into her mind that this is just what you
do. That “normal” is being secure and comfortable in their own skin, knowing
who they are and having the confidence to dance, drum and dream. Or plant a
garden, play a banjo, go to a yoga class, write a book... no matter what the
activity she will know that the possibilities are endless if they embrace what
her <i><b>spirit </b></i>is calling her to do, that<i><b> is what makes her <span style="color: #cc0000;">beautiful and strong</span></b></i>. </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif";"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif";">I want my
daughter to dance with me, no matter what she looks like, and I want her to
look to me as a positive role model. </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">The </span><a href="https://www.unstoppablemoms.ca/default.aspx?utm_source=YMCBlog&utm_medium=various&utm_campaign=doveloblaw" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;" target="_blank"><span style="color: windowtext; text-decoration: none; text-underline: none;">Dove Unstoppable Moms for Unstoppable Girls Contest</span></a><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> is for moms just like me who have thought about quitting an activity they loved because of how they felt about their bodies. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Are you an unstoppable mom? <a href="https://www.unstoppablemoms.ca/default.aspx?utm_source=YMCBlog&utm_medium=various&utm_campaign=doveloblaw" target="_blank">Share YOUR story</a> about a time when you thought about quitting an activity you loved because of how you felt about your body and let them know how you think moms/role models can better support girls to participate in activities. You have until June 13, 2013 to enter. You could win $2,500 for yourself and $2,500 will be donated to help raise a girl's self-esteem.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/--zAAqyMc7EU/Ua8z0PUHedI/AAAAAAAABGA/D3fU1fTpH20/s1600/IMG_8040.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/--zAAqyMc7EU/Ua8z0PUHedI/AAAAAAAABGA/D3fU1fTpH20/s320/IMG_8040.JPG" width="213" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Check out more
stories on <a href="http://yummymummyclub.ca/">YummyMummyClub.ca</a> about amazing unstoppable moms:
<a href="http://www.yummymummyclub.ca/family/mummy/unstoppable-moms-for-unstoppable-girls">http://www.yummymummyclub.ca/family/mummy/unstoppable-moms-for-unstoppable-girls</a></span><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5931211121773872375.post-81750466458187640332013-05-24T09:35:00.002-07:002013-06-05T06:50:48.193-07:00The silence <span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">You know that moment - right after your toddler has been running around literally bouncing off the walls, and every other surface possible, and pulling your hair and shrieking and chasing the cat - when there's actually a blissful moment silence.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">While you sit and allow yourself to enjoy the 3 minutes of silence, you have this thought tip toeing its way to the front of your mind:</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><i>nothing good ever comes from a child playing quietly in the next room.</i></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Last time it was the marker. Not just any marker mind you - a giant permanent black marker, and I thanked the cleaning gods my daughter likes to draw on paper and not the walls. She also likes to draw on her body. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Awesome I know... but it washes off. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">This time, it was the marker - a slim sharpie in the color of, yes you guessed it, <b>black</b>! In which she decided she had had enough of drawing on paper and her body and decided that the newly distressed antique sewing machine I had done for the walk in closet would be her latest victim. </span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-s4qaHPDM_Q4/Ua88thoiryI/AAAAAAAABGg/tv7Pg-3L5Vg/s1600/marker.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-s4qaHPDM_Q4/Ua88thoiryI/AAAAAAAABGg/tv7Pg-3L5Vg/s320/marker.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">And this is how I learned that (helpful tip) nail polish remover takes off permanent marker -- mind you it took off a bit of the paint but thankfully it's a distressed look so it works.<br /><br />I have no idea where she keeps finding these hidden markers but I'm now on round up duty!</span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5931211121773872375.post-66863723299244230842013-05-19T09:50:00.000-07:002013-05-19T14:02:43.207-07:0030 hours family free...<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">30 hours without a boy. 30 hours without a toddler... 30 hours...</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">alone.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-8DN1EOJb76I/UZj-Qyi2RnI/AAAAAAAABEU/JsV4dZ_rFoY/s1600/alonetime.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="318" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-8DN1EOJb76I/UZj-Qyi2RnI/AAAAAAAABEU/JsV4dZ_rFoY/s400/alonetime.jpg" width="400" /></a><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">It's not that I don't like my in-laws. I really do. </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">No seriously I really do... especially my mother-in-law (yes she reads this, and yes I'm totally sucking up... kidding - she doesn't actually give a shit what I say as long as she gets quality time with her granddaughter, which she totally is :D) but when J suggested heading to Ottawa to visit with his family, and taking Poppet with him, in order to give me a little bit of time to myself I won't say there wasn't this happy little version of myself jumping up and down inside with glee. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Since P was born, I've had one night to myself (about a year ago), and a blissful Mama's night away not too long ago with one of my best girlfriends, but this is the first time I've had two (almost) whole days and a night alone in my own house. So, I repeat...</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> </span><a href="http://www.glitter-graphics.com/"><img border="0" height="30" src="http://dl10.glitter-graphics.net/pub/245/245910c5vhn8ec6y.gif" width="30" /></a><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">So, what's the first thing I did? No, not a nap. I freakin' cleaned. Sounds indulgent eh? I looked at the toys scattered everywhere, the dried banana on the coffee table, the half eaten bowl of apple sauce in the dining room, the dishes piled on the counter and the books laying on their spines from front door to kitchen, and decided if I was going to enjoy my family free time, I was going to have to clean the downstairs so it looked like grown ups lived here. Seriously, what is wrong with us that it takes one of us being alone for a handful of hours to clean that banana off the fucking couch?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">After scraping, sweeping, wiping and tidying I am having a lovely cup of tea that will lead me to taking a delicious nap in which I will cuddle deep into my electric blanket with a trashy novel until I doze, and when I wake I will walk downstairs and be greeted by no one but </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">a bottle of stupidly expensive vintage red (okay, there are two. prepare for drunk dialing later), a take out sushi menu, and a list of a dozen things I want to write, read and create. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">This is my time alone. This is bliss.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Is it too excessive to have both a nice long hot shower AND a bath? </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5931211121773872375.post-54350072859732450812013-04-28T16:15:00.003-07:002013-04-28T16:18:06.529-07:00Picture post<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Today was our first summer day - yes I know it's only spring, but we could have run around naked quite comfortably. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br />
Wait. Why do we live in the city again? If we lived in the country we could have done that! </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br />
So, anyway... we spent the day in the back yard doing garden work and playing with the best girl in the world. We took some pictures. Some of them our family will love. The many faces of Penelope is on going however...</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br />
</span><br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-blgAhODeFOE/UX2scEh7l_I/AAAAAAAABBU/tgnleEhFZSk/s1600/hammock.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><img border="0" height="211" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-blgAhODeFOE/UX2scEh7l_I/AAAAAAAABBU/tgnleEhFZSk/s320/hammock.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"> peak-a-boo in the hammock</span><br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZZBeraoz7vU/UX2sfolnKSI/AAAAAAAABBc/LUh-rrp8hi0/s1600/mama+and+p.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><img border="0" height="211" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZZBeraoz7vU/UX2sfolnKSI/AAAAAAAABBc/LUh-rrp8hi0/s320/mama+and+p.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Rockin' the shades</span><br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-bmUuZf9gleE/UX2slCA9ogI/AAAAAAAABBk/X2FnY0nz_4A/s1600/nap.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><img border="0" height="211" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-bmUuZf9gleE/UX2slCA9ogI/AAAAAAAABBk/X2FnY0nz_4A/s320/nap.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"> It's been a long day, Imma just gonna chill out here for a bit</span><br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-su78KOmcZ3s/UX2smy2Bv6I/AAAAAAAABBs/0ODEPG2ym90/s1600/penelope+at+2+months+haha.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><img border="0" height="211" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-su78KOmcZ3s/UX2smy2Bv6I/AAAAAAAABBs/0ODEPG2ym90/s320/penelope+at+2+months+haha.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"> Oh hey, something is hilarious...</span><br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-hMXu1vBUdBc/UX2sqPGWRSI/AAAAAAAABB0/bxI1IJfLqtQ/s1600/penelope+at+21+months+grr.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><img border="0" height="211" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-hMXu1vBUdBc/UX2sqPGWRSI/AAAAAAAABB0/bxI1IJfLqtQ/s320/penelope+at+21+months+grr.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"> wait... no. no it's not</span><br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-uoXN58ylJxI/UX2stcxchlI/AAAAAAAABB8/oYrSpLnNgnM/s1600/penelope+at+21+months+huh.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><img border="0" height="211" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-uoXN58ylJxI/UX2stcxchlI/AAAAAAAABB8/oYrSpLnNgnM/s320/penelope+at+21+months+huh.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"> In fact, I'm a little annoyed you're taking my photo to begin with...</span><br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-TlGON0psl4E/UX2sw6EVvEI/AAAAAAAABCE/mDKvPmrlKRE/s1600/penelope+at+21+months.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><img border="0" height="211" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-TlGON0psl4E/UX2sw6EVvEI/AAAAAAAABCE/mDKvPmrlKRE/s320/penelope+at+21+months.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"> Okay, screw this I'm going to play with Papa...</span><br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ed3FYSOalWY/UX2s1otSTAI/AAAAAAAABCM/4npmjvWEJcc/s1600/walking.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ed3FYSOalWY/UX2s1otSTAI/AAAAAAAABCM/4npmjvWEJcc/s320/walking.jpg" width="187" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5931211121773872375.post-82825138989355312752013-04-28T10:39:00.001-07:002013-05-01T04:20:56.028-07:00Getting a kick in the pants from Lawrence Hill<br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">This was the week of girl's nights. A trek to Toronto (three bottles of wine and a
dirty martini later), a catch up with an old friend over dinner and tea and then last night I washed the toddler out of my hair, a clean t-shirt and put on some eyeshadow. With lattes in hand we embarked on a literary girls' road trip.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Enjoying a
reading by Lawrence Hill would have been spectacular in itself, but it happened
to be held at one of the most exquisite pieces of property in the area,
<a href="http://www.wintergreenstudios.com/" target="_blank">Wintergreen Studios</a>. Wintergreen Studios has 200 delicious acres, completely off
the grid with a straw bale lodge and a series of hobbit houses along the
property, which houses a lake and beautiful walking trails. *yum* A walk
through the woods, a hike in heels, and an offering at the river reconnected
me. To the land. To myself. To passion.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Hill himself was poignant, funny and a delightful reader. Hearing
about his trials with the book burning in the Netherlands made me realize just
how strong you need to be to be a writer. You need teeth and determination. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">As I realized my copy of The Book of Negroes sat in my
dining room, unable to be signed, I <i>was</i>
lucky enough to chat with him about writing, children and the trip to the UK
with my 10month old daughter on my back. He asked, “Who does that!?” and I say “Me...
I’m VERY SLOWLY writing a memoir about it.” He then asked me who my publisher
was, I replied with a laugh. He told me to get on it.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">He’s right. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I’m starting to forget the little details. As a freelancer, I write for work,
so rather than chronicling the amazing stories of our trek when I have down time, I
have started to doing other things... like ironing.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">So, with the sunshine and our dance around the Maypole coming up this week (Happy Beltane) I am tapping into my muse with a
renewed sense of conviction and determination to do this... if not for anyone
else but Penelope and I.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Thanks for the kick in the pants Lawrence Hill. </span></div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5931211121773872375.post-20188780108980786572013-04-22T16:07:00.002-07:002013-04-22T16:07:35.025-07:00Bicycle, Bicycle... I want to ride my bicycle, I want to ride my bike... <span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">In the winter of 2012 I sat in my dining room table and cried. Big drops splashing on the table top as I described one of my loves in detail, which was now missing, to the police. My red and white Schwinn had be stolen from our back yard. It wasn't so much that I was sad about the bike (don't get my wrong I was) but I was furious that someone had gone through our gate and taken it. So, I cried. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-gz-xHZ-cWhI/UXXCjabOqxI/AAAAAAAABAg/55AsjvWlIco/s1600/bike.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-gz-xHZ-cWhI/UXXCjabOqxI/AAAAAAAABAg/55AsjvWlIco/s400/bike.jpg" width="208" /></a><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Feeling violated and pissed off, I made myself feel better by telling myself that, l</span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">iving in a city infamous for bike theft, it was only a matter of time before it got stolen. But damn I loved that bike.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Imagine how quickly my head whipped around when I walked past our friends' house a few days ago and saw my beautiful bicyclette propped up against the garage door! After a few emails we discovered my bike had been ditched on their neighbours yard. The police wouldn't come get it so they gave it to my friend. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> I know I should be super grateful and excited I got my bike back. I am. What are the chances, seriously!? I'm a little annoyed, however; at the guy who found it and was too lazy to take a super nice bike to the cop shop (a 3 min drive away) in hopes of someone being reunited with their long lost love...</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">...</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">... okay okay, I'm taking a breath and letting it out.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">And now I'm stoked to have my bike back.</span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5931211121773872375.post-44551983329642170772013-04-07T17:57:00.000-07:002013-04-07T18:03:46.327-07:00Charlie... it's short for Penelope<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-rjKqfCZlQ4Q/UWIXYV4QtFI/AAAAAAAAA_s/866Dl6E-y6o/s1600/pene;o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-rjKqfCZlQ4Q/UWIXYV4QtFI/AAAAAAAAA_s/866Dl6E-y6o/s1600/pene;o.jpg" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">When her name came to me I thought that would be it. We got the old lady vintage baby name we wanted; she was classic and I stayed true to the insane reoccurring dream I had while pregnant of a spider. I will spare you the gory B-Movie details... but what it came down to was dreaming of the weaver, the change... MY change... voila: </span><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Penelope" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;" target="_blank">Penelope</a><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">So, why do I want to call her Charlie?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Almost 2 years ago it was basically narrowed down to Matilda or Penelope. Then a couple weeks before our daughter was born, my partner and I both kind of fell in love with the name Charlie. Then I called her George for the first day she was alive because she reminded me of my grandpa George, super wrinkly and looking like she should just be out fishing somewhere... in plaid with big cuffed jeans. (yeah, he was all kinds of awesome.) Anyway, after day 3, or 4 maybe I tried calling her Matilda or Tilda and it just didn't fit. (Much to the joy of my sister in law who has promptly claimed the name for her first daughter.) Then, because I also dig the boy names for girls I tried calling her George (J hated it) or Charlie... but I knew she was Penelope. I could feel it when I looked at her. So, we named her that. Penelope Mae. She's my vintage doll.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Although I look at her and I do see Penelope (Poppet), there is still part of me that wants to call her Charlie. Quite strongly over the last week or two... What the hell? Am I alone in this? Anyone else second guess their kid's name through the years?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I can just hear it now...</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">"What's your daughter's name?" </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">"Charlie"</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">"oh, cute... is that short for Charlotte?"<br />"no no, Penelope"</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">*snort. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I found out Saturday night that J's grandfather's mom was named Charlotte... that would have been so perfect. And now just keep thinking about having another baby so I can name it. I have apparently had too much whiskey tonight.</span><br />
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5931211121773872375.post-34693721412238977912013-03-22T17:59:00.001-07:002013-03-22T18:01:00.347-07:00Earth Hour: Kingston Unplugged<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Massive tantrum in the middle of a store, the kissing that's the best I've ever had, the chalk board and her new sudden independence. It's been happening and I'll be blogging about it all.... </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">After I get past running this:</span><br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ApehEO24dp0/UUz931xLRnI/AAAAAAAAA_c/AltL9Q5gSQg/s1600/earthhour2013_web_RGB.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ApehEO24dp0/UUz931xLRnI/AAAAAAAAA_c/AltL9Q5gSQg/s640/earthhour2013_web_RGB.jpg" width="412" /></a></div>
<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5931211121773872375.post-62276218200481960032013-03-08T08:12:00.001-08:002013-03-09T07:11:01.869-08:00International Women's Day ~ I am toddler, hear me roar! <span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">In honor of International Women`s Day today we went to our first social justice action event together: a freeze mob held on the university campus. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Coming up with a slogan for Penelope's sign was challenging. What DO you put on it that will really get people talking and more importantly, </span><i style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">thinking</i><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">!</span><br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ZvduWjb7IAo/UToLP0CH49I/AAAAAAAAA-U/QXC9DoDxyqw/s1600/feminist1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ZvduWjb7IAo/UToLP0CH49I/AAAAAAAAA-U/QXC9DoDxyqw/s320/feminist1.jpg" width="157" /></span></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Then a friend suggested "Feminist since 2011"... and although we are more egalitarians than feminists, the language was simple and I thought hopefully it would drive home the point that there is a 19 month old at a demonstration for equal rights, a demonstration that said I'M PROUD TO BE BORN A FEMALE, a demonstration that pleads to the world for women to be treated well, as all humans should be.</span><br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-3YvYM_r83So/UTtMpFcjKpI/AAAAAAAAA_I/AFgqSaKoX0E/s1600/DSC_0455.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><img border="0" height="211" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-3YvYM_r83So/UTtMpFcjKpI/AAAAAAAAA_I/AFgqSaKoX0E/s320/DSC_0455.JPG" width="320" /></span></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">While I shot the demonstration for a story for the weekly I write for, m</span><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">y amazing Poppet grabbed people's attention, and inspired discussion. She even made it to the <a href="http://www.thewhig.com/2013/03/08/tune-in-and-turn-off" target="_blank">daily paper</a>. And, of course when I submit my story for Kingston This Week she'll be included. Hey, if it gets people talking! </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">The one thing I was not expecting was the rush of emotion as these women banded together in solidarity.</span><br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Isd1SY2F88o/UTtMiLpAMNI/AAAAAAAAA-s/cCRxJ89gZ4o/s1600/DSC_0453.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><img border="0" height="211" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Isd1SY2F88o/UTtMiLpAMNI/AAAAAAAAA-s/cCRxJ89gZ4o/s320/DSC_0453.JPG" width="320" /></span></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">With a cello and violinists playing tragically beautiful sounds, women emerged from the walls and their seats in the cafeteria of Queen's University (and again at the mall later in the day) to display their messages and draw people's attention to the fact that people still aren't treated equal, from job promotion to sexual satisfaction. </span><br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-4syIwX8xJwU/UTtMkLwYJmI/AAAAAAAAA-0/oCHNINbI750/s1600/DSC_0465.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><img border="0" height="211" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-4syIwX8xJwU/UTtMkLwYJmI/AAAAAAAAA-0/oCHNINbI750/s320/DSC_0465.JPG" width="320" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Standing frozen among many of the women there was my amazing kid - she stood perfectly still for the entire five minutes. Maybe it was the music, maybe it was being part of a united front, maybe it was how strong she looked woven in with these incredible people in our community, and maybe it was the thought that I truly hope she chooses to fight for the rights of herself and others as she grows up... but the tears just started flowing! I've never been so proud! This took the emotion of hearing "mama" for the first time and squashed it flat.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-QGLRMjDZuxY/UTtMm02r_PI/AAAAAAAAA-8/hVjCDya8_6Y/s320/feministpenelope.jpg" width="211" /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I can't help but wonder... will she be doing this in 20 years? What is her future going to look like?</span><br />
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5931211121773872375.post-43470807394743674502013-03-02T17:46:00.001-08:002013-03-03T04:42:13.605-08:00Bitten, Bruised and Battered (or, How to Handle Getting Your Ass Handed to You by a Toddler)<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">When I say my toddler kicked my ass, I don't mean she has been rambunctious all day and I'm tired, or I had to physically chase after her so much that now everything between my neck and my feet are begging for a hot soak in the tub. When I say that I had my ass handed to me by a toddler, I'm talking about her physically hurting me. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Our house is full of love, hugs, kisses and random dance parties. Yes, we've got our stressful days but we don't yell, or throw, or hit. Even though we try to teach by example, it's not enough. Tonight I was p</span><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">inned to the floor by a 19 month old ninja trying to fight her way onto my chest in order to get a handful of hair in her fist and my shoulder in her mouth. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">When she's not going Hannibal Lecter or Ninja Baby on me, she's pinching, slapping, or hitting with her toys. </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Or, she's biting through clothing. T</span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">onight she bit a hole through my skirt. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">How do you get it through to her at such a young age that it's not cool to smash your mama in the face with your sippy cup, bite her on the back of the thigh or grab a chunk of skin (and sometimes flesh), dig your nails in deep and twist?!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">"No" doesn't seem to work. She giggles when I use a stern tone of voice. </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">"Stop" makes her want to do it more, to the point of chasing me around the house to try and get a grip on one of my limbs so she can sink in her tiny little fangs. </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I haven't seem to have mastered "the look"... although I'm working on it. Give me time.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I understand that at one and a half, a child's language is developing and due to their lack of vocabulary, they rely on actions to communicate. </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Incoming molar aside, the hitting and pinching is telling me she doesn't like me; that she wants to cause a reaction in me. Is it as simple as her needing more of my attention than she's getting? </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">My big question: How can I help her channel this energy so she's not hurting people? What are the great activities that help curb toddler aggression?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">My new approach, as I attempt to cease the bloody marks on my skin, is to reinforce the "gentle" instead of responding with the negative, "no"s, "don't"s and "stop"s. And maybe take a time out myself before reprimanding her. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br />Suggestions, advice, and guilty confessions of your reaction to an aggressive toddler welcome! (and politely begged for --- see the comment section? leave 'em there")</span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0