...adoration.

I just cannot get enough of how my two girls look at each other. Both of them always delighted to see the other. Every once in a while I catch myself in some melancholic thought process that leads me to a time, not too far away, when this will not always be true. When curious hands will ruin a well loved toy or tear up an art project. When the hot tears of frustration will well up in the eyes of a babe that cannot follow her sister up the stairs or join in her more mature games with friends. But I do catch myself and bring it back to what we are so fortunate to be enjoying right now. This incredible adoration for each other that seems to know no bounds. Because for right now I continue to be amazed that no matter how many times Lola grabs and pulls Meg's hair, she never complains. And no matter how over zealous and wild Meg can be in her hugs and helping, Lola seems to tolerate it and mostly even enjoy it. When Lola cries or fusses and I have my hands full, Meg will dance and sing to keep her amused. She has learned the complicated lyrics to an old Scottish folk tune and will sing it with gusto whenever it's called for. She will endlessly pick up the dropped toy while we try to sit together for our evening meal. And she will cry in sympathy when Lola seems inconsolable. I could not have imagined a better sister in Meg. And Lola... well she just comes alive when Meg walks in the room. In fact she has burst into fits of laughter just at the sight of her. The other morning Meg climbed into bed with us and pulled the covers over her head. Lola clawed at the duvet to try and uncover her big sister. For now I am completely satiated with this incredible relationship I am so lucky to witness.

I was going to delete this photo but it actually really sums up the two of them. Meg moves slowly and intentionally in everything she does. Lola is a blur!

And then the funny faces...

LOVE

...a "birth"day.

Seven years ago today I was blessed to be witness to my first birth and welcome my third niece into the world. She arrived at the perfect time. Born on my grandmother's 85th birthday. Tonight we celebrated with family, cake and presents.

I have never celebrated a birthday in quite the same way since her birth. I used to celebrate the babe that was born on that day. The day that, miraculously, brought this spirit earth side to walk among us. This in itself is a remarkable thing to celebrate. And now I cannot think of a "birth"day without thinking about the other spirit that was born on that day. The spirit of the warrior mama. It seems impossible to separate the two now... to not honour that moment when the maiden is no more and the baby-mother emerges from the wreckage. And when I say wreckage...I mean wreckage. That which brings forth life is so explosive that it does leave us in pieces. I find that when I look into a mother's eyes on the birthday of her child it's as if there is a window opened to that raw place of being in pieces once again. There is maybe even a wistful realization, when going back to that place, that when those pieces/bones were gathered and placed back together the wild, warrior woman that emerged was not the innocent maiden that resided in those bones before the explosive force of birth.


Tonight my niece kept saying and singing happy birthday to her mom, my sister. I'm not sure why. Most seven year olds wouldn't dare think of sharing the spotlight on their special day. After all, the cake is for them, the presents are for them, we sing to them, light the candles for them... And somehow this little soul, consciously or not, knew to deflect a little of the love to her mama. The woman standing in the background with pride all over her face. Seemingly doing nothing more than marking the passage of time with a party for her child. But I know otherwise. I was there. My life changed forever as I watched the layers peel away to reveal her true self. Allowing her to be fully present as she brought her squirmy, wet newborn daughter into her arms. It was my humble honour to watch her face light with joy and awe in those first moments, those first breaths. Until then I had never seen anything more genuine and pure in my entire life.

Since that night seven years ago I have been truly blessed to witness this incredible sight over and over again. It never gets old.

This is that babe today. Toothless, tousled and full of joy.

Happy Birthday Madeline!
And Happy "Birth"day Mama Arden...

...reflection.

Wow last weekend was some weekend. I don;t think I have ever been so blissed out! Well that might not be true but I was pretty damn blissed out!
It started with a trip to the airport to greet Cindy with this...

Wow that is some round belly, huh?

I thought I would have time to write about my weekend but I think I need to go to sleep. I wanted to write about it tonight in case I don't get the chance to. I feel that the baby is near... But becasue of this I also need to rest. To gather my resources for the long road ahead. So I will hope that I have another day or so in order to properly reflect on these last few days. In the meantime I will leave you with some photos. I have nothing of my motherblessing yet because my dearest Jamie took those photos. But these are fun.

Meg had a sister blessing on Sunday...

At the end of the ceremonial circle she was painted as a sister warrior.

Then she had a footbath and massage.

Followed by a henna and some heart shaped strawberry slices.

The next evening we did my belly cast.

And we cast Meg's belly button!

All in all it was a pretty exciting weekend for all of us. My home will never be the same and I do intend to write all about that.... But for now I thought these pictures would suffice.

...my genius of a husband.

Lately Dave and I have been struggling to find time to spend together. He is in the throws of the final weeks of his work for the year, he has been sick and I have been hitting the sack at the same time as Meg every night. We barely have time to discuss the very basics of our daily lives. Last Thursday evening I regrettably had to miss Yoga to go to our one and only prenatal class. It was just a little "preparing for your homebirth" session with our midwife. But I left that class feeling like we had been away for a weekend retreat! The 15 minute ride home in the car was bliss and I can't tell you why. It just was.

Last night we lay in bed together and talked about this whole"baby" thing. We are having a baby... Holy crap. I have got past that phase of "what the hell were we thinking" but I haven't completely gone beyond my anxiety about how this one singular event will change our family forever. Right now I am loving our Meg, even when she is whining and not cooperating. She is spectacularly cool right now and the way that she nurtures me is heart-swelling. I just worry about what direction things will turn in when our family grows by one. What I hadn't considered was something that Dave pointed out to me. Meg is who she is today because of this change in our lives. We have no idea who she would be if she wasn't growing into the role of big sister. She has become nurturing to me as a result of my needing it. She has matured in the last 8 months as a result of our circumstances. I am falling more deeply in love with her because we are both feeling the need to securely tether those heartstrings before we know their strength could be tested.

Isn't my husband a genius?