Being a mama is one of the toughest jobs in the world. Few would disagree. It requires resourcefulness, creativity, organization, time management, people skills, effective communication, conflict resolution, adaptability, leadership, and the ability to work under pressure. Quite a diverse and impressive skill set, to be sure. Continue reading
As a gift for joining The Forty-Something Club, my generous-to-a-fault husband said he was going to send me and my two sister-friends to Toronto for an all-expenses-paid girls’ weekend. He wanted us to do it up right – spa time, shopping, dinner, dancing. It was the kind of weekend that the me before kids was all about.
As my girls and I tried to find a weekend that would work – extremely difficult when there are 8 kids and many hundreds of kilometers between us – I was coming to realize that there was something I needed more than ‘let loose’ time in the city: I needed time alone. Continue reading
I like me a good mantra.
I’ve made no secret of the fact that anxiety has plagued me since becoming a mama. My anxiety hasn’t been the debilitating variety – the kind that makes a person afraid to leave their child unattended while napping lest they stop breathing, or terrified to drive with their kids in the car. Continue reading
My husband is really great about giving me time to do things on my own on the weekend, recognizing that I recharge best when I am by myself. (Hello my name is Kelly and I am an introvert.)
Usually when the weekend rolls around and my husband asks what I would like some time for, I respond with one of two answers: Continue reading
I’ve been a member of a club for almost a decade now. There have been some drawbacks to membership, but all things considered, I’ve really enjoyed being part of it; there have been a lot of really good times. In fact, some of the best times of my life so far have been spent as a member.
In a couple of days, however, I will be permanently removed from the club’s membership list. Deleted. Forever. This has been difficult for me to accept. I’ve protested and pleaded. I’ve ugly-cried. But there was no reasoning with the club’s administration. My time as a member? Over. Continue reading
Here in Canada, we’re known for a few things.
Hockey, maple syrup, Ryan Gosling, saying sorry a lot…just to name a few, eh?
We’re also known for our public health care system. It’s pretty impressive. This isn’t going to be a post about it, but it’s where today’s musings got started.
In my lovely province, when a woman goes home after having a baby, she receives a follow-up call from a nurse. The goal is to ensure that both Baby and Mama are doing well and adapting to their new circumstances. I got my call on Monday of this week, and something the nurse said got me thinking. Continue reading
8 days ago, I was writing a letter to my postpartum self.
Today, I have a 7-day old little girl. Our pink buddha. Our fraggle. I can’t stop inhaling her. I can’t get enough of her little squeaks, her tiny toes. She sneezes and the roof lifts and she farts like a trucker. We are smitten.
So…my little pickle’s birth story… Continue reading