Little girl, we’ve been graced by your peaceful presence now for nine months. For nine long months we anticipated your arrival and now for nine short months we’ve watched you grow. From wide eyed wonder taking it all in to wide eyed full of wonder as you take it all on.

Adored, beloved, darling, you are cherished by us all.

::

Mira has popped through two teeth in the last couple of weeks and it would seem as though she is working on more. That hard work mostly bothers her at night but even then she is such an understanding little lady. During the day she is on the go. Not quite crawling on hands and knees but pulling herself along the floor with her arms. With her new found movement Mira is finding all sort of trouble to get into. We’ve had to redouble our sweeping regime as she’s putting all findings in her mouth.

She is well guarded, this precious baby sister. There always seems to be a sibling begging to carry, snuggle, or kiss her. They can always make her laugh. And our little peacemaker has settled many a conflict and dried many a tear without a word, such is the power of her sweet smile.

After her first enthusiastic bites of avocado, she hasn’t shown much interest in food. She samples now and then but for the time being The Mia-Bomb’s quite happy with her milk. And with all that we already have going on I’m quite happy to hold on to our nursing sessions.

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These nine months have passed in a blink but we can’t imagine life without this blessed bundle of joy.

Happy 9th Month, Mira Love.

Three years are just a drop in the bucket. But they are three years which have changed us forever.

Three years with this sweet boy full of love, kindness, and hilarity. Three years of little boy curls. Three years when my heart has been squeezed that much more.

photo by: Cheryl MacLennan Photography

Happy Birthday, little man.

::

Wishing you all a beautiful weekend! 

We celebrated a birthday this past week. A very important sixth birthday.

We adore this boy with his bow-ties and belts, crazy antics and tender heart. With his father’s frank and open nature and my sense of humour. Full of wild curiosity, go-until-he-drops energy, and thirst for knowledge. He’s a treasure of a boy, a caring brother, and a darling son.

Liam had been planning his birthday for weeks, if not months, although he still left us guessing what he would settle on until the last minute. He loves to imagine wild and outlandish plans but prefers to settle on the tried and true. Penguins at the zoo, birthday waffles, pizza with friends, and vanilla cake with raspberry buttercream – and as much as possible celebrated in red.

His birthday gift requests: a tuxedo, a box of “Organic O’s” (like Cherrios), a red cowl, and a pair of TOMS. He quickly got over the disappointment of not receiving a tuxedo and pulled on his new shoes and cowl. Among his special and most favourite gifts was a new friend –  Fantastic Mr. Fox. Irina made this special stuffie for Liam and sent it all the way from Lithuania. We’ve all fallen in love with Mr. Fox – he even wears a bow-tie, just like Liam.

Birthday celebrations are so much fun! We love them.

…And now we’re counting down the weeks until the next birthday.

::

Hope your day is full of joy and celebration, friends!

(Erm, sorry for the princess, but I couldn’t resist the chicken clown’s face.)

Hello again!

I’m back after my brief hiatus. Dipping a toe back in tentatively, hoping WordPress is kind to me and spares my posts from the glitch that was bothering me last week. It would seem there is a bug, yet unfixable, in the newest version of WordPress – which sadly I have.

Even over this short break I’ve missed sharing here but the break has been refreshing. Refreshing because in taking a break from writing here I’ve taken a break from my computer.

I’ve been feeling so muddled lately. Moving too fast but getting nothing done. Filling my spare moments with poor choices which were only tiring me out more. I was forgetting to enjoy the silence, those few moments when I find them. I felt trapped in some crazy cycle of exhaustion. And I started to worry it would lead me to another attack of shingles.

Stepping back – if only physically for a few days – has been good for me. I’ve been thinking about boundaries and choices and priorities. I’ve been brainstorming, coming up with lots of ideas but not a lot of solutions. While I wonder about all that, I’ve pulled back a little. I apologize for unanswered emails – I’ll get there but I’m taking my time and taking it wisely.

I’m remembering the firsts in my life; putting pen to paper again; setting limits and wearing internet blinders (in hopes that I won’t be distracted by every shiny nugget). I’m retrieving the peace I’d neglected, ditching stress, planning more time with my little people, and most of all remembering grace.

I’ve yet only taken a couple of baby steps but I’m feeling better all ready. Today has been a good day. School was done, baking and dinner accomplished, laughing, smiling, embracing. I didn’t feel like a crazy person. That’s good, too.

These moments are too precious to miss, these people growing in leaps and bounds, these days blurring by. But I’ve discovered I can freeze them, even if just for a moment, and breathe deep of this goodness.

Breathe in. Breathe out.

“Gratitude unlocks the fullness of life. It turns what we have into enough, and more.

It turns denial into acceptance, chaos to order, confusion to clarity. It can turn a meal

into a feast, a house into a home, a stranger into a friend. Gratitude makes sense of our

past, brings peace for today and creates a vision for tomorrow.”

~Melody Beattie

In the name of gratitude and truthfulness I’ve decided to post a little piece of reality here once a week. Likely just a single picture. See my original post here.

For his first 2.75 years, he was mama’s boy. This week for the first time he pushed me away when he was hurt; he asked for daddy when I tried to help; he announced, “Not you! Daddy do it!” over and over. I know I didn’t do anything wrong, I know I’m not the centre of his world, I know that it’s healthy and part of growing up. I’d like to think I am a bigger person knowing what I do. I’m not. It stings. I feel a little shattered.

But I’m getting over it because that’s growing up. And we’re all doing it (even me).

(Really, I am fine. He let me read his story AND tuck him into bed tonight. I am grateful.)

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If you’d like to join in with a reality check of your own, please add a link or note in the comments!