Three Years.

I have always enjoyed writing. It has been something I've been passionate about since I was young. I had journals half filled and filed away with memories of from my young mind. I turn red reading them now, embarrassed by my boy crazy ways and my horrible spelling. Little hearts and doodles in the margins as I thought up ideas. I loved writing poems, and actually was quite good at it. I remember handing in a stack of poems to my grade 10 english teacher, Mr. Robertson, because I couldn't pick one; I got an 110% on that assignment, he gave me bonus marks. I am an emotional person with a flare for the romantics so poems and I got along swimmingly. My heart would pour onto a page as my hand swept over the paper. Never erasing just putting black lines through words as I perfected my rhythm. It was a source of comfort and occasionally a way to validate my feelings and understand what my heart was going through as my head hadn't quite caught up. Words were my escape as well as my source of defining my reality. Words allowed me to understand what I was dealing with then let me move past it. Words were the reason I started this blog, although I wont lie that I still prefer the feeling of putting pencil to paper - it just feels more real, more substantial. 

Now, three years have passed and this little blog is filled with words. Thoughts I have poured onto pages and openly shared with the world. My fingers hit the keyboard with purpose as I find the words and build them into sentences that reflect me. I do erase, I do occasionally write and then save and never post, I don't have the anonymity I once had and so my words have to be crafted carefully. I don't censor myself too much but there are things I wont post about, that doesn't mean they aren't written and filed away though. This blog has become a journal of my life. Something that documents my life and files memories away in hopes that I don't lose them. I may someday look back and read posts and turn a little red, but that is because my life has progressed passed that point and I now see things much more clearly. There are also things that I read and look back on and remember how far we've come and how happy I have documented those old memories. How great it is to remember. 

So here's to the words. Here's to the memories, the pages of thoughts that have poured out from my inner most being. Here's to the rhythm in my words that are a reflection of my heart, beating away on the keyboard as they are made into a memory. Happy three years little blog. Thanks for letting me share my words.

Full Term

How fast time flies. In just a few short weeks I'll be meeting you my wee child. I am so looking forward to it. I have dreams about holding you, then I wake up and realize that you are still growing inside me. I am trying to enjoy these last few weeks of pregnancy but I feel this tug inside me calling, willing, hoping you arrive soon my sweet.

Mommy Loves You.

An Ode To The Quiet Morning

My husband is snoring in the other room. I am up early, it seems this little one growing inside me has a different perception of what time it is and thought that the perfect moment to wake up mom was 5:30. I do enjoy quiet mornings like this. Listening to the lights buzz as they tell the world they are awake.

A pot is simmering on the stove slowly making me my breakfast. A hardy breakfast does me good, keeps my crazy appetite at bay for a good chunk of the day.

Rocco peacefully purrs beside me as I pet her, so easily content and happy to have someone awake with her. Her almost soundless pitter patter follows me around the house as I get ready for the day, as to make sure I wont disappear. Occasionally she sits at the bedroom door letting out a soft mew hoping Ben will soon accompany us in our morning routine.

I watch as the world slowly wakes up around me. Neighbors begin to turn on their lights, the black of the night slowly melts away allowing the dewy blue of the morning to take its place and  cars start to pull onto the road as their passengers begin their journey to work.

I look forward to sharing the morning with my wee one. Curling up together in my hammock during a summer morning, nursing the wee one as the rest of the world wakes up around us. My beloved mornings, I look forward to sharing you.

February 3rd 2013

My Dear Child,

Oh how time flies. Here we are five weeks away from your due date. I am excitedly awaiting your arrival. I am so looking forward to meeting you and holding you and watching your dad cradle you in his strong arms. I just can't wait yet, at the same time, I wish time would slow down. I feel like I have oh so much to do before you are here. I remember thinking at the beginning how far away March 10th was, and here we are with just over a month to go and I feel like I have NOTHING done. Your room is filled with boxes and bins that have to be moved to your dad's new office, your crib has to be sanded and painted, we have yet to attend one birthing class, and there are so many items we just don't have yet. I keep trying to remind myself that all that really matters is that we love you and that you don't really care about all the things as long as you are feed and taken care of, which we can do. 

Daddy is going overnight tomorrow to do some stuff for practicum and then, when he gets back, he is going to move into his office and we will start on the nursery. I've been working on getting some stuff I need to pack in the hospital bag. Hopefully by next Sunday we will have the hospital bags ready and your room more or less set up. Then, I think I will be able to breath. 

Can't wait to meet you,

               Mommy Loves you.