December 17, 2014


Three years. It's hard to believe. I remember her birth like it was yesterday - every vivid detail. It wasn't an easy day, but it was my greatest day. She is The Gift of my life. A 5% chance is what they gave us to conceive naturally. And then along she came. You think you know all about love and then this child comes into your life and your heart introduces you to these new spaces that you hadn't known existed before. You've never cared about someone's physical safety and health more, to the point of ridiculous stress. You've never wanted to be a better person, period. You've never wanted to make anyone's days more special than you do with their days - being as creative or resourceful as possible so that each day feels full of wonder. And yet it all pales in comparison to what she gives back in return. She has been my ray of sunshine on this impossibly hard year. She brings us this incredible spark, this amazing sense of humour, this gentle and empathetic disposition that makes us drift off to sleep gushing about how awesome we think she is. I love looking at the world all over again through her eyes, because it's a much better place. She asks me at night what I'm going to dream about (her favourite thing to dream about is cupcakes).....She loves it when my mom comes out with us because she thinks that means that Nana is all better......She lists off all her friends before she goes to sleep and tells me how much she loves them......Whenever her papa gives her a kit kat, she takes one stick, gives one to him, and saves the other two in the fridge for Craig and I, and no one ever taught her to do that....If someone falls down, she runs over to help them up before I've even noticed....If something wonderful happens in her day, she lists off all the people she's excited to tell....she spontaneously tells me she loves me all the time and it lights me every time.
Whoever coined the phrase that "the days are long and the years are short" is a genius. (I'm sure a simple google would lead me to their name...). There are long days, where all you want to do is get a few errands done, and it takes all day, because you forgot to factor in the hours it can take to just get them out. of. the. effing. house. There can be days where apparently every gut instinct you have is wrong about how they want things done - where milk tastes better out of an orange cup than a blue cup, you mother effing idiotic parent..........and yes those days can make you collapse into bed, gazing at the stars above, dreaming about the spare time you once had in days of yore....but as challenging as it all can get, for three years, she been the best part of my days. xoxo

Dec 17

Dec. 17th - Christmas image - the appearance of holiday greenery everywhere in the house.

December 16, 2014

Dec. 16

Christmas image: Dec. 16th - wrapping presents by the tree. xo

December 15, 2014

Dec. 15

Christmas Image Dec. 15 - All things woodland. It's official. I'm obsessed.

December 10, 2014

Dec. 10

Christmas image day 10: decorating homemade playdough using Christmas cookie cutters. xo

December 9, 2014

Dec. 9

Daily Christmas image: Christmas music and red wine. 

silver linings

At this time of year, I always put together a photo book of our favourite moments of the year. I'm not going to lie to you, this has been the hardest year I've known. As many of you know, about a month into the year, I held my mom's hand in her doctor's office only to have our hearts obliterated when he told her she only had a few months to live, that she had a very rare form of cancer: mesothelioma.
It sat like a pit in our stomachs throughout our days and a heaviness in our hearts. It was a tangible pain. She is the center, the heart of our family. I think it's safe to say I cried pretty much each day this year - mostly in the car on my commute home, where I could let out a day's worth of keeping it in.
But looking back on the photos, while compiling them for this year's re-cap book, this was also an extraordinary year. We spent so much quality time together as a family - every few days we were joined at the dinner table. Cancer taught us to have important conversations, to focus on what's most important in life and to realize how fragile this life of ours is.
Cancer showed us what support looks like. Support looks like my parent's friends who showed up with meal after meal, who cleaned their home time and time again, who threw wonderful parties, who called endlessly checking in. And the support extended to my extraordinary friends, who dropped off meals or gifts for my mom, even though they have never met her. They blew me away with their thoughtfulness.
Support looks like a wall in mom's home, full of beautiful drawings from her grandbabies, who are too young to know what is happening, but just want nana to feel better.
Now don't go thinking I'm pro cancer, because I'm most definitely not. I was just addressing the silver linings from this year. My mantra is actually fuck cancer. Fuck it for seeping into this family and for slowly taking away our favourite person. Fuck it for still existing in all of its multitudes in spite of millions of millions of dollars put into research. Fuck cancer for having no conscience about who it inflicts.
But I'm looking forward to giving my mom this photo book, to show her that in spite of it all, we still shared so many extraordinary days together. Seize the day people. It's not just a catch phrase, there is so much weight behind it. xoxo