meditations of a blueberry

Walking my eldest to the bus in the dark the last few months has given me time to reflect and breathe. After years of not needing to be up early thanks to being a work at home mom with young kids, I am actually enjoying the quiet as we step out into the dark mornings when the sun is still sleeping. Sometimes, we see the moon shining brightly and sometimes the cloud cover is thick. Sometimes the cold air takes our breath right out of our lungs and sometimes the snow swirls around us covering our tracks on the path. Sometimes we are dressed and ready for the day and sometimes our winter clothes hide our pajamas and bed head. Sometimes I have finished a full coffee and eaten breakfast and sometimes my coffee remains at home on the counter promising to be cold when I return. After the bus pulls away with E and the two littles and I walk home, we watch the sun rise, often in a glorious display of colours. Purples and reds and pinks dancing brilliantly in the distance, giving us a glimpse o

This too shall pass.  I remind myself of this near constant mantra as the 1.5 year old has yet another tantrum. Not sure the cause of this one, but as usual, he seeks out the nearest wall and floor to smash his head against it. Then, he runs to me to hit me and smash his head against my body. I sigh, and tell him, yet again, that I won't let him hit me and move my body out of his reach. I've been telling him the same thing for months, but it hasn't seemed to get through to him. Every tantrum he does the same things just like clockwork. This too shall pass, I tell myself again as he reaches up to me and I scoop him up and attempt to cradle him in my arms. But that is a lost cause as he throws his body back and squirms out of my arms. It is like trying to comfort a pissed off octopus. Just like usual. It has been a long few months. Pregnancy hormones don't make this whole parenting thing any easier.  I am trying to teach my children about kindness. I am tryin

Boxes may now grace the rooms of this house,  But not long ago,  This house was a home.  In this house, Babies have been made and babies have grown.  Two of my babies have taken their first breaths within these walls. So many firsts have graced these walls - first cries, first laughs, first steps, first words. So many meals have been enjoyed (and not enjoyed) together. The scent of home cooking and new baby smells have wafted through many noses. Laughter has rang through the halls and rooms. Tears have formed rivers as grief has taken hold. Moments upon moments of silence have passed by as I've just rocked and watched my kids breathe and sleep in my arms.  I have grown up from just a girl to a woman to a mom. I have watched as my husband has grown from a boy to a man to a dad. We have grown together. We have fought and yelled at each other and we have fought together for each other.  We have yelled at the world together and the unfair ugliness that can accost you at

Change is inevitable. In every moment of every day, change is happening. As much as you try, you cannot run from it and you cannot hide from it. Change will find you no matter what you do.  Change is never more apparent than in the fall when orange and red engulf the trees. From fully green, the trees embrace the change and celebrate it with a gorgeous explosion of colour. Why is it so hard for us as adults to embrace change the same way? My last five months have been full of change. All of the months of change with momstown to momstown eventually closing and losing my job. Getting pregnant and being reminded of 6 years before when I lost my very first pregnancy that was on the same time line that this one is. Deciding to sell our house and move out of the city. Loved ones moving on from this world. So much change that I cannot stop. So much stress, so many tears. I've spent the last few months floating through space, not knowing where or who I am supposed to be. Watc

I love spending time with my mama friends. I love drinking coffee and laughing and watching our kids play together for hours on end. I love going out without the kids and laughing and just being silly together. I love going to the farmer’s market and festivals and swimming with my family. I love running around and dancing crazily with my boys. But I have a confession to make. Being around people drains me of energy. After doing any of these things, I often feel like I used to feel in university after a night of drinking. Tired. Exhausted. Drained. There is a simple reason for those feelings. One that I only truly discovered after having children. I am an introvert. Being around people use my energy and I need to spend time alone to recharge. Large, busy spaces overwhelm me. I easily get overwhelmed by noises and bright colours. I have to work hard to focus on the task at hand when I am immersed in a busy place. When I get overwhelmed, it’s easy to get frustrated and lose my temp

2015 has not been kind to those around me so far. From cancer to random accidents, people I know and people I care about have been struck with tragedy and struggle. My own life has been confusing and the unknown stares me in my face yet again. To top it off, I spent the better part of this week recovering from a stomach bug and found out some awful news about a family member. It's no wonder moments of self-doubt and feelings of isolation have crept into my life. L is almost 8 months old, and in the last month, I have begun to feel the cold, bony fingers of postpartum depression try to get a stranglehold in my life. In the quiet moments of the evening, I have fought the thoughts that tell me I am alone. But in the dark of the night, as I lay awake with a screaming baby, those cold, bony fingers find their way into my heart. The menacing voice whispers that I'm not good enough, and laughs when I call it a lier. Its grip on my heart tightens and it tells me I will never be good e