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. 

destined to be wanderers.

I put off writing about this initially because I was so very overcome by my own feelings and was having trouble sorting through it all. But now that I've had some time to reflect and rest my tired heart I feel like maybe I can find the words.

I mentioned HERE that we would be moving in with a friend at the beginning of July. We got everything hammered out, filled out forms, packed boxes and arranged help for moving day.

Then I got a message that shattered everything.

She changed her mind. I no longer care why - I'm done asking questions that will never have answers - but it shook me and hurt me. I hate packing, I hate causing turbulence in the relationships of others and I hate that feeling you get when someone rips the rug out from under you. And that is exactly what I've been feeling.

I spent a lot of time being angry. She and I had words and I decided I can no longer invest in a friendship with her - but that was not solely based on her backing out, that was more the straw that broke the camel's back than anything else. I exhausted myself trying to sort through everything I was feeling and when I woke up this morning I felt merely sad. Sad and overwhelmed at our new reality.

The truth is that the city we're living in is way too expensive. In fact, I don't know anyone who lives here that can actually afford to do so without some kind of help. That was why we planned on having a roommate - so we could stay. I love the midwives we have here and Kyle's job is here. It was the perfect solution, but now it's gone.

We're now looking at relocating. My family doesn't want us to move so far away and are offering us all kinds of advice and help but the truth is that if the only way we can stay here is by depending on someone else for financial help, I would rather pick up and move. I'd rather deal with the whole ordeal of scrambling to find a midwife in the late half of my pregnancy, trying to find people to help us move cities, helping Kyle job hunt in a different city and finding an apartment that will rent to first time renters with no credit. Maybe it's because I'm stubborn, but we've never had to ask for help before and I'm not about to start now.

I'm trying to look on the bright side, but I'm having trouble finding it. The city we're looking at has friends, awesome thirft stores, and some really amazing architecture, but I still am just feeling so conflicted and confused in my heart about how I should feel about what happened. I know I have every right to feel the way I do - angry, hurt and lied to - but it's made me question the trust and the faith I put in people. I tried really hard to make that friendship work, but for what? Was I ever close to her heart the way friends are meant to be? In all honesty I'm feeling used and I really hate that I let someone make me feel that way.

I'm also looking for a positive lesson in all this, and I'm sure that -eventually - I will find it. For now I have to look ahead and figure out what's next for our family. But I'll tell you one thing for damn sure - I am not unpacking those boxes!

loss in the eyes of a momma bear.

Loss is always difficult. It's a mountain the heart can't bear to climb. It's got a million different faces and appears in a million different forms.

I am a miscarriage survivor, and that is not something I ever thought I would be.

I see you there sweet soul.

I never thought about the fact that pregnancy does not always end in a joyous meeting of parents and baby. Sometimes you never get to meet that little soul, kiss it's little face, or count it's little toes. I never thought about it until I lived it, and all I can remember thinking was 'did it even happen? was any of what I felt real?' because being told it was not as I had thought it was made me feel like perhaps it had never been at all. That hurt worse than knowing I had lost something - when I started to feel like I had imagined ever having it in the first place.

Losing a child in a special kind of hurt. Having only ever lost a pregnancy and not a child (and I pray that day may never show it's ugly face in my life) I can't say if either is really worse. Loss is loss, and when you lose a child, a piece of your heart - of your very soul - it changes you. It breaks you in places you didn't know could break and sometimes it makes you feel like you may never see light again.

I had an extremely hard time of it after losing our first little one. I cried for a good hour after finding out and then I just kind of went numb. I pretended I was fine. It didn't feel real to me, so I just went on. But I was different.

it can't rain all the time..

I tried doing different things to get closure, but truly all I wanted - what my fragile little heart wanted in that time - was a baby to love on, to hold and to cherish. I felt I had failed in my duty as a mom. I couldn't protect my only child and I had lost them forever. I started to doubt my body and I honestly wondered if it would ever happen for me - for both of us - again. I didn't think I could carry a child to term because I felt so betrayed by my body.

There's no turning point. I got reckless and desperate and one thing led to another - bing, bang, boom - and our little bear was conceived. It wasn't the smartest choice I've ever made, but he healed my heart as completely as I could have ever hoped for. Having Seth showed me I can do it. My body can carry a baby - healthy and thriving - to full term. It can bring beautiful little souls into the world. And for a long time I didn't think I could do that.

Losing a child changes you. It changed the way I looked at a lot of things - though the same can be said about being a momma bear as well - and it showed me not only what I was made of, but what my sweet husband was made of. He was my gentle comfort, the sweetest strength as I cried and mourned and hated myself. He never left my side in that time when we needed each other most and we grew together so much out of that loss.

Because of all I've gained from it, I can never truly come to regret what we've gone through. That little star came and went, leaving permanent scorch marks on everyone it touched. It brought me closer to my husband, and it inevitably gave me one of the greatest blessings my life has been graced with so far. I love deeper because I know how very, very fragile life in now. I hold my loves closer to my tender heart. I am the mother I am today because of the little soul we lost.

Wherever you are, sweet angel - I hope you know how very much we love you. I spent a lot of time weeping for you and hurting for you but I have come to see just how wonderful a gift your short life was for us. Shine bright, little star - your momma will always love you.

milf of the month - green tea bath love.

I decided to do a link up with the very sassy JUSTINE over on her blog today, so get ready for some girly stuff!



This is not a secret: us girls love our tub time. I spent so much time in the tub in my last pregnancy I'm surprised I didn't grow gills! And now that I have a toddler, baths are even more enjoyable - and even more rare - so I try to get the most out of every chance I have to soak away my stress. Most recently, I've discovered green tea baths.

Did you do a double take? So did I at first. You literally just sit and soak in tea, and let me just say it is glorious and so, so good for you.

About two years ago, I bought this green tea blend that  I didn't really like. It's been sitting in my cupboard for a while, not being drunk. Then I heard about green tea baths. Not willing to use my green and white tea blend (oh my yum, it's my favourite) I dug these babies out.

I ripped off the strings and thew them in my tub and had a good long soak. I got some good deep thinking done and really relaxed for the first time in a while. But aside from those benefits, since I started doing this my skin has stopped breaking out like that of a teenage boy, the random rashes on my arms have cleared up and my eczema hasn't been flaring. I may never have a regular bath again!

So, you want to have your own invigorating green-tea bath experience? Here's what I do!

You'll need:
- three green tea bags; any blend will do!
- 1 cup Epsom salts.
- a tub full of hot water.

First I rinse out my tub to make sure there's no hair or hint of bubbles lingering from the day. Then I plug it, throw the teabags under the tap and turn on the hottest water I can stand. Once the tub's full, I add Epsom salts and let the tea steep and the salts dissolve. Then I hop in and soak - usually until the water gets tepid. I leave the tea bags in the tub to soak along with me, and I occasionally take them and rub them on my face to help soak in the goodness and make my face feel fresh and clean.

Go give it a try, and let me know what you think!