I Am Blessed


Unless you’re very close to my family, what you may not know about T is that while she’s a pro at sleeping in her crib at night, she prefers to nap on people. She will readily fall asleep on a pillow placed across my lap, or on her father’s chest, or in either of her grandmothers’ arms. The minute you move her to her crib, however, she wakes. How we can move her into the crib at night but never during the day is one of her own great mysteries.

Sometimes being forced to stop for an hour or two a couple times a day to allow her to nap can be annoying. Sometimes I just wish she would go in her crib so I can get some stuff done around the house, or so I can just have an hour to myself. I think this is a normal, healthy thing. And truthfully, I don’t usually mind her sleeping on me, it’s just some instances that I wish she’d settle down on her own for a nap.

Today is not one of those days.

After seeing the photo of those poor drowned children on that foreign beach, my daughter can sleep on my lap whenever she wants. All day, if that’s her desire. She’s doing it right now, actually, and my right hand is numb and prickling from how her heavy, dream-filled head is lying on my arm. I have typed this entire post with the index finger of my left hand. There is a parent in the world – as there are many parents in the world – who would give everything he owns and more to be “stuck” holding his sleeping child.

I will never take the sound and feel of T’s steady breathing – in-&-out, in-&-out – for granted. I will never grow tired of looking down to see her nestled in tight against my chest. If she will only take a nap on me for the rest of her childhood, I will never hold that against her.

Yesterday, upon seeing that photo, I went upstairs to T’s room and interrupted her playtime with her father. I scooped her up into my arms, held her tight with her warm little cheek pressed to mine and with tears in my eyes I remembered: I am blessed, I am blessed, I am blessed.

I will never forget the image of that child, Alan Kurdi, lying on the beach, as if he too were only sleeping.

If only that could have been the true story of that photo.

25 Weeks

It amuses me that I haven’t written here in months; that the last post I wrote was made when I was 25 weeks pregnant and now my daughter (whom I’ll refer to as “T”) is now 25 weeks old. She’ll be six months old tomorrow, 26 weeks old on Saturday, and is absolutely the joy of my life.

The past six months have passed by in an absolute blur of all those things people tell you about before you have your first child: sleepless nights, seemingly endless dirty diapers, spit up, second-guesses…I’ve dealt with all those things. But I’ve also been blessed with smiles and giggles and the sweet smell of her breath after I nurse her. Sure there were hard times at first (a long haul with jaundice and getting the hang of breastfeeding was a nightmare), but I wouldn’t change one single second of the last six months. Not a one.

In my previous post I wrote about how I didn’t want this space to turn into just another “mommy blog”. I still don’t, but that fact of the matter is that “this is me now”, as I like to jokingly say. I’m a mom now. Every minute of my day is spent looking after a beautiful little girl, so there’s not much else to write about right now. The break I took from writing seemed like a natural one, but once again I’m feeling the siren call beckoning me back here.

Bear with me while I tread the new, murky waters of navigating what I share here? I’ll make it to the open ocean again soon.

Where Have You Been?

Almost three months have passed since I’ve added anything to this space. My bad. I’ve been a little bit preoccupied with some things and haven’t had much inspiration to write.

What have I been up to over the past nine-ish weeks, you might ask? Well.

I’ve been listening to a lot of music. In heavy rotation in my iTunes library are Ben Howard’s new album, I Forget Where We Were; Taylor’s Swift’s new disc, 1989; Tove Lo’s Queen of the Clouds and Calvin Harris’ Motion; as well as Iggy Azalea’s The New Classic.

I’ve been reading a lot, too. I recently re-read the last two books in the Harry Potter series, The Half-Blood Prince and The Deathly Hallows. Up here on “Canadian Thanksgiving” back in October, one of our TV stations showed an HP movie marathon over the weekend and reignited my love of all-things-Harry. I always appreciate seeing my favourite novels brought to life on film, but, like most bibliophiles, I get extremely irked by how much is lost in translation or just plain left out, so I wanted to take a walk down memory lane and remember the exact high jinks Harry et al got into during their quest to defeat the big-bad Voldy.

Another novel I’ve been working my way through (because it is loooong) is Edge of Eternity, by Ken Follett, the third book in his Century Triology. It’s a super interesting read, but seriously lengthy, so I took a break three-quarters of the way through. Harry and his friends were a great escape from the darker tones of the Cold War period.

What I haven’t been doing a lot of is running, which kind of makes me sad, but there’s a pretty good reason for it. Over the past three months (right around the last time I posted), I looked like this:

14 Weeks

But, as of last Saturday, I now look like this:

25 Weeks

Readers of this space who know me in real life have known for weeks now that Dave and I are over-the-moon-excited to be adding a little girl to our family at the end of February. I’ve wanted to write about it here, but I’ve been purposefully holding off. Why? Well, for a lot of reasons, actually, but mostly because I don’t want this space to become strictly a blog about babies. Or parenthood. Or pregnancy. Although I like to write and share stories about my life as it happens, I can also be immensely private. To me, pregnancy is a wonderful experience, but it’s a personal one. I don’t feel the need to bombard everyone with my feelings or thoughts or views on the process. I strive to maintain a balance of me-as-a-mother and me-as-a-person, here in this space, as well as in real life. Thankfully, it hasn’t been too difficult yet.

Just as I’ve missed running (I’ve been sidelined since the end of my first trimester due to a plethora of things), I’ve missed writing here. I’ll try and be more present, but ask you to please forgive my possible preoccupation. There might be an increase of posts about babies and parenthood and pregnancy, but there might not be. At this point, I’m unsure of what direction this blog will take.

I will say this: I don’t want my little corner of the Internet to fall by the wayside because I like it here. I feel comfortable here. I want to be here. All I know is that I love a good adventure and I’m incredibly excited to be embarking on my biggest one yet. I hope you’ll continue to tag along for the ride.