it's hot.

I've said it before and I'll say it again - it is very, very hot. For some reason our apartment is a lot hotter than outside - and we don't even get direct sunlight. So the other day I loaded up a backpack and we went to city hall - there's a huge 'field' (read: not real grass) beside the library and a big fountain adjacent from that field, right in front of the doors to city hall. I say fountain, but in the winter it's a skating rink and in the summer it's like a mini splash pad. Kids and adults alike splash and cool off there, so we thought it'd be a fun adventure that would cool us off and get us outside.

Seth absolutely loved it. He ran around and splashed and got soaked and adorable. My camera battery died half way through our trip, but thankfully not before I got some really sweet shots. Here's our first adventure to Celebration Square!

Dear Kyle gets crabby when it's hot too. 

picnicking.

twenty-five weeks

Today I am twenty five weeks pregnant. I feel like this pregnancy is just zooming by in a blink, and in just over three months we'll be welcoming our little fox into the forest.

I haven't written much about this pregnancy yet, mostly because I felt when I wrote about every week when I was carrying little bear I just felt repetitive and boring. Not much changes on a week to week basis, and writing about big moments makes more sense to me. I have been taking weekly photos though, just for documentation of how differently I've grown this time.

The way my little belly is growing is just one of few things that are different this time. Though a lot (and I mean A LOT) of things are very much the same, there are also a few very noticeable differences. Little fox's kicks and wiggles are way more noticeable this time, and I was feeling little 'bubbles' a lot sooner as well. I'm craving some different things (though all still in the same areas of sweets and salt and cheese) like cinnamon raisin bagels - I haven't craved those ever before, and I just cannot get enough. The same old cravings of poutine and Cesar salads are there again, too. And what's a pregnancy without a craving for ice cream? But that's probably more than enough about food - I'm just very happy to finally have an appetite again.

A small part of me feels sad that my pregnancy is going so fast - or maybe our life is just more exciting now with a toddler - and I haven't really been able to take it in and enjoy it as much as I did last time. Some days I don't even look pregnant! But there is a much larger part that knows this is just a small piece of our journey together and learning how to take in the small, important moments when the world slows down is what really matters. Quiet moments when I'm laying on the couch and my sweet fox kicks me really hard as if to say 'I'm here, momma' and I just smile and rub my belly, or when Seth pauses in the middle of playing and points to my belly and I softly tell him 'that's your baby brother in there.' These tender moments that stick with me are all I need to focus on when life is busy, and I am grounded in knowing that no matter what these boys are mine and I am theirs.

Now on a less emotional note - being pregnant in the summer is not my favourite. I have been very sweaty, hot, uncomfortable and cranky. I'm not very uncomfortable physically (I'm not as big as I thought I would be!), but I hate the sticky feeling on my skin when it's hot and humid. It's dreadful. We've been going to the mall and out to the park a lot more recently, doing whatever we can to stay cool and happy - but I am so ready for fall already. It's very hard to enjoy pregnancy when it's so very hot outside. I've wanted a fall baby for a long, long time and I am so excited to see what warmth the cold weather will bring us this year.

lately.

Our life lately, in photos.

The cat must learn patience.

first silly faces

wild boys.

15 months going on 15 years.

don't let me fall, daddy!

laying on the floor watching bubble guppies - the best way to start the day.

welcome summer, let's be friends.

Yesterday was the first day of summer, and oh what a beautiful day it was. The little bear and I went out and sat in the sun (or rather, he ran around exploring while I snapped pictures and occasionally chased him down) and enjoyed the nice warm sunshine. I forgot how much I actually like summer - last year I was too worried about my tiny newborn over-heating or getting too much direct sunlight to really enjoy ever going outside. He and I get the same when it's a touch too warm - we get lethargic and eventually cranky - so last year we pretty much lived indoors with the air conditioner cranked to the max.

This year is so different. I have a wild toddler who loves to explore and dodge all my attempts to take photos of him, and I feel much more confident in my saggy mom skin. I have a smidgen more energy, too. It helps to not be in the newborn fog - that's the one thing I'm not looking forward to with fall, the return of the fog.

But for now, it's summer. Sunshine and time outside and hopefully some bright new beginnings for us. Be good to me, summer. Be good to us all.

love without madness is not love.

While packing up, purging and organizing I came across a certain box. It's Kyle's one sacred place to keep all the memorabilia from our early (and current) days as a couple.

I decided to go through it and read through some of the letters I wrote him, the things I drew for him and the little bits and pieces and I became increasingly afraid and embarrassed for my former self. I felt tempted a few times to burn some of the disgustingly romantic and mushy-gushy things, and I wondered why in the hell Kyle had stayed with me when I was so intense that I scared even myself.

circa. 2009 - one of our first 'kissy pictures'

Then I stopped and realized that they were in that box for a reason. Kyle keeps them because he loved that girl. He fell in love with the girl who wrote his name out a million times on notebook pages. The girl who was so over-the-top in love that she was willing to forsake everything to show him that she could be trusted. The girl who wanted to prove to him that relationships don't have to hurt, and they don't have to end. The girl who spent all the money she had every month for a year just to see him for two days. He loved that girl because she was crazy and wild and intense. And it made me sad that I felt I had lost part of who that girl was.

It's not that my love for Kyle has changed so much as it's relaxed. Back then it was a terrible struggle and our young hearts dove into it headlong and reckless. It was leaving at the end of those two days not knowing for sure when we'd see one another again. It was crying with joy on the Greyhound because I could see him there waiting for me when I got back. It was dealing with jealousy and trust issues spending so many long weeks and months apart. It was the only comfort I could find as I struggled through my rough times in high school.

circa 2010 - one of my weekend visits

Now it is so very different. It's getting up every morning and seeing his face. It's being able to hold him whenever I want to. It's picking silly little arguments because being around someone all the time - no matter how much you love them - will eventually get on your nerves. It's less intense because it's our new normal. It's being married and being home base to one another. It's not wondering when we'll get to hold one another again. It's not being afraid to let go because we know it's not the last time.

I think I can now understand a little more the way some marriages decay over time. You get comfortable and relax because let's face it - the intensity will burn you out if that's all your relationship is made of. Any long term relationship is about finding a balance between the wild and intense madness and the comfortable place. Finding that box really opened my eyes up to that, and since then we've both gone through all of the stuff we saved from each other. Reading those old love letters again brought me back to that madly in love fifteen year old. The girl that loved wildly and deeply and gave her whole heart to everything she did. Love without madness is not really love, so I want to keep some of that madness in our life.

circa 2012 - married life at last. 

crazy auntie meg.

Meet my first niece, Harper Greigh.

I got to go meet her today and I can't believe my big brother has two kids. He's still a 17 year old with a skate board and a backwards baseball cap in my mind. Though I'm still having trouble wrapping my head around myself having two kids, haha.

Welcome to the family, sweet girl. You're so far beyond loved, and you've only just arrived.

getting to know myself

In life we go through seasons. Of change, of growth, of happiness, of sorrow. We experience moments that shape us and sometimes we don't notice changes in ourselves until long after the moment has passed. That's what I feel like this past year has been for me.

I didn't notice until recently how much I've changed, and how vastly different the person I really was a year ago and the person I thought I was a year ago were.

I was a bit over-confident and a bit cocky. I thought I was strong and could always get what I wanted and hold my own. I didn't think I was a push over, or that I ever did things simply to please people when I didn't agree with those things. I was wrong in a lot of ways.

I don't want to say I have regrets, it's more like I have lessons. I have lessons about Seth's first year. I let a lot of different outside sources influence things I did or things I thought and how I interacted with and raised my son. Neither of us are really the worse for wear, but there's still - only sometimes - this little nagging voice in my head wishing I had known better or done differently. But you can't learn if you don't make mistakes, and if you never learn you never grow. So in a way I'm thankful for that tiny voice because it tells me I learned something. Instead of focusing on what I didn't do or what I would have rather done I'm trying to look forward, and how I can not only use that knowledge for next time but use it to do good and help other people who might be in a similar spot.

I don't want it to seem like - as my first - Seth is a crash test dummy. Every choice I made for him was - at the time - what I believed in my heart of hearts to be what was best. That will be true for every choice I make for him and his siblings, even if I learn a thing or two a long the way that makes those choices different for each of them. I'm only human, after all.

I've heard people sometimes say 'well this time I'll do it right' and that isn't at all how I feel. Every time our little tribe grows I will learn more and as time passes what is right for us will change - it's the nature of things. I don't want to feel guilty because I'm doing things differently this time because I know better, but sometimes I feel a little twist in my gut that makes me feel bad that I didn't know better before. I have a perfectionist complex when it comes to being a mom - sometimes I honestly feel like a failure if I don't have the answers or don't know what to do. It's especially bad learning and growing from my mistakes when I feel like I shouldn't make any. It's ridiculous and it's unhealthy, but it's another thing I'm learning and growing from all the time. It's not something that I'm going to allow to define me as a person or as a mom.

The thing I have to remember is that everything is a lesson, and lessons create growth. Showing my kids how to learn from their mistakes in more valuable to them then displaying perfection. These are the raising revelations.

a new little adventurer.

We recently added a special someone to our humble little tribe of explorers.

Her name is Willow, and she's a little darling.

ikea is where the heart is.

My ultimate dream home is a cabin filled entirely of thrift-store finds, vintage pieces and Ikea furniture (okay, and maybe some stuff from Target too - that place is kind of my second home).

I have always loved Ikea, and when I was a kid it was a big deal when I got to pick out my bed there. And then we got to put it together, too?! So much fun.

I still have very much the same attitude about Ikea. Furniture isn't supposed to last forever and when you have a busy house where even the adults get silly and start rough-housing, you want affordable stuff. And putting it together is one of my favourite parts.

Since our living arrangements for the future are a bit up in the air, I needed some uplifting. I decided that since there were some other house things we needed for whenever and wherever we ended up moving, I would just buy it now so we could use it and I could get some retail therapy.

I bought an adorable throw blanket, a gorgeous turquoise duvet cover and treated myself to some scented candles and a new duvet. I bought a few more, smaller things as well - but these were my favourite purchases. I've been coveting this duvet cover for a while now, and now it's finally mine - all mine! (And Kyle's too..)

home.

I used to think that home was a place. A place I had to find, or build for myself. A place that was entirely my own. 

Oh but how wrong I was.

Home is not a place. Not for me at least. In the dark times in my life I wanted nothing more than to run away to find my home. My place. My nest of quiet in the madly spinning world. I was waiting - waiting for the day I could start looking, waiting for the day I could find it. I needed it so badly. To feel rooted, attached, to feel truly, finally, home. 

I wish so badly that I had known then that home is not a place. It is not for us to go searching desperately for. It is not a concrete thing that can be held and picked apart and examined. It's not as simple as all that. 

I've been home since the first time Kyle wrapped me up in his arms. Home is a feeling that grows in your heart when your soul finds exactly what it needs. It's a special kind of magic you don't always notice at first. It's slow and warm like liquid honey, spreading from the depths of your soul out and beyond yourself, surrounding you and giving you that warm and cozy feeling that everyone associates with 'home.'

My home is my husband and my children. They fill me with a warmth and a happiness and a contentment I cannot and have not ever found in anything else. Even in trying time I can find an anchor in them that helps hold me down and weather the storm. They are home to me. 

It doesn't matter where we live or what our it looks like when I walk int he front door. While it's fun to imagine the 'dream home' or fantasize and plan about decor, that's not what makes a home. What makes a home are the people you share it with. 

If I could write my 13 year old self a letter, I'd only tell her two things. you were not put on this world to be ordinary - don't fight it. And home is not a place.

To my loving and wonderful husband, and my wild and beautiful children:

Home is wherever I'm with you.