Driving to Manitoba, enjoying the beautiful scenery when Isla pipes up:
"Mommy, is that yellow stuff corn?"
No, honey, that's canola...one of the most beautiful crops in the world. And would you look at that up there just past it? That's flax. Wow, it's magnificent, as well.
"That's water, Mommy."
Well kids, that's the beauty of a flax field in full bloom...it resembles a beautiful body of...fuck...that is water. Hey listen...someone dig through that bag back there and find Mommy her driving glasses.
Saturday, July 29, 2017
Sunday, July 16, 2017
And then she turned 8...
Happy 8th birthday, Miss Isla Berlyn! Today we celebrate your arrival on this planet, and how you changed our lives for the better. I told you your birth story again this morning, and the big smile on your face every single time you hear it melts my heart. You make me say exactly what the doctor said when he looked down between my legs, with the same strong, beautiful Bosnian accent that he had. I lean down very close to you and say:
“You have VERRRRRY good size baby.”
And then I tell you I remembered thinking, well thank God for that, because I thought he meant you were small and it was going to be easy, seeing as how my first born destroyed me. But then came the second part:
“I go get vacuum.”
Oh, how you love that part! What did you say then, Mommy?
“Oh, fuck. That’s what I said.”
You love that part. You love that you were my biggest baby.
But then comes your favourite part of all, the part the doctor said when he held you as you came out, all dark, hairy and BIG, the part where I thought I had given birth to another son, your Daddy kneeling right down there with the Doctor, beaming with joy beside him. The doctor looked at you, looked at Daddy, then looked up and me and smiled and said:
“You have a BEAUUUUUUUUTIFUL daughter. Who looks just like her father.”
That part puts you right into a fit of giggles.
I’m often in awe of your big beautiful heart, your incredible beauty that radiates from within, the magic about you, your kindness – towards us, your brothers, your cousins, your friends. As I reflect back on my life, I wonder what it was I did exactly to deserve you. Or maybe that’s not it at all…maybe you came into my life as a reminder, that when I’m falling flat on grace, on love, on kindness, on magic, you remind me of what that looks like. You remind me of what I need to get back to.
And my favourite ending to every day? When I hug you and kiss you goodnight, and you whisper in my ear: “I’d search the world for you, Mommy.” I don’t know what made you start saying that, and I can’t remember exactly when you started doing it, but I do know I’ll remember the exact day if you ever stop. So I hope you never do. I need you to know that it fills my heart every single time. And guess what, Peanut? I’d search one hundred million galaxies for you
“You have VERRRRRY good size baby.”
And then I tell you I remembered thinking, well thank God for that, because I thought he meant you were small and it was going to be easy, seeing as how my first born destroyed me. But then came the second part:
“I go get vacuum.”
Oh, how you love that part! What did you say then, Mommy?
“Oh, fuck. That’s what I said.”
You love that part. You love that you were my biggest baby.
But then comes your favourite part of all, the part the doctor said when he held you as you came out, all dark, hairy and BIG, the part where I thought I had given birth to another son, your Daddy kneeling right down there with the Doctor, beaming with joy beside him. The doctor looked at you, looked at Daddy, then looked up and me and smiled and said:
“You have a BEAUUUUUUUUTIFUL daughter. Who looks just like her father.”
That part puts you right into a fit of giggles.
I’m often in awe of your big beautiful heart, your incredible beauty that radiates from within, the magic about you, your kindness – towards us, your brothers, your cousins, your friends. As I reflect back on my life, I wonder what it was I did exactly to deserve you. Or maybe that’s not it at all…maybe you came into my life as a reminder, that when I’m falling flat on grace, on love, on kindness, on magic, you remind me of what that looks like. You remind me of what I need to get back to.
And my favourite ending to every day? When I hug you and kiss you goodnight, and you whisper in my ear: “I’d search the world for you, Mommy.” I don’t know what made you start saying that, and I can’t remember exactly when you started doing it, but I do know I’ll remember the exact day if you ever stop. So I hope you never do. I need you to know that it fills my heart every single time. And guess what, Peanut? I’d search one hundred million galaxies for you
Close your eyes and make a wish...
Now blow...
You'll have to do better than that...
Now blow...
Now you got it!
You're all grown up already...that beautiful soul of yours came from another time.
Cheers...to another thousand years.
I love you this much, Daddy! And that's a lot.
Do you remember this? When I was trying to get a photo
of you the day you turned 2-years old?
You were so excited, and loved that I was tickling you with my toes
(in actual fact, I was attempting to hold you down with my foot)
while trying to keep baby James, who was only 6 weeks hold,
from rolling off the little bed.
Your look said it all...you knew you were kind of a big deal. xx
Monday, July 3, 2017
When the road seems too long...
What to do when your air conditioner breaks on an 11-hour van ride?
A. Toss yourself from the moving vehicle.
B. Get naked and hang out under the sun roof, blasting the Communards: "BABY!!! My heart is full of love and desire for you!"
#DontLeaveMeThisWay
A. Toss yourself from the moving vehicle.
B. Get naked and hang out under the sun roof, blasting the Communards: "BABY!!! My heart is full of love and desire for you!"
#DontLeaveMeThisWay
Jimmy just handed me this from the back seat. It's really warm. I'm no Doctor but I believe it may be urine.
#PayBack #OnlyTwoMoreHours #TheyAreSurvivors
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