Posts in Category: Love & Sex
The 1st year we lived in this sweet town close to the water, I had a newborn and a toddler with a husband who toured a lot as a musician, 6 weeks of which were spent in Norway during the dead of said winter. THAT was fun. I thought to myself many a time as I bulldozed my way through the drifts, no way, never again. The next year we hooked up snow removal and the winter was light. So we said to each other, not next year!
But….isn’t it romantic? Isn’t it lovely? All of this snow? Had you pronounced such open-ended questions a year ago, I would have given you the side eye. Living in the north is not for the faint of heart during the winter. With snow that accumulates hip deep you best invest in a snowblower, snow removal service or reaaaalllly enjoy shovelling snow. Or, have teenagers. Or amazing neighbours. People who you let in and share your story with, the good and the bad.
The beginning of winter last year met us with sickness and injury. I had fallen and cracked a couple of my ribs, seriously messing up my arm and hip. My husband had just been diagnosed with chronic gout, was on a cane and had to keep his foot elevated a majority of the time. And because we are neighbourly, and because I share in our stories, our neighbours knew what we were going through. Time and time again, our driveway would be ploughed by the kind souls on our street. I can remember one early morning in particular, when I was aiming to get the kids to school on time and there was no backing out of our garage. Stupidly, I attempted it and got stuck. I began digging my way out …ribs throbbing, mind beginning to melt with frustration. Life just felt like a series of slams and I could not keep up.
I got out of that driveway and my husband and I focused on the hard work at hand. Complete health and wellness overhaul. Lots of relationship ho-downs and show-downs. In the end, our love prevailed and we met each seemingly insurmountable mountain and series of tasks, determined more than ever to get better, get fit and get ahead.
How are we today? Well, for starters, I’m romanticizing over the snow even though my hip is throbbing from falling on an ice chunk tobogganing with my kids (being clumsy, apparently, is something I can’t shake). My husband had his first gout flare-up in almost a year over the weekend, forcing us to completely cease-halt on a fitness program we had begun together. A year ago, something like that would have really gotten him down. It would have kept him from riding his bike to the train station, something he truly loves doing. We probably would have started fighting. There must be something to this personal development and self-care that we’ve been focusing on both individually and as a couple, because instead of going to separate rooms to binge out on Netflix, in attempts to blot out the dark, cold grip of winter, we lit some candles and did some PiYO instead. And we got a little sweat on, we laughed and we just ENJOYED ourselves.
I’m no spiritual guru, but I’m pretty sure we’re onto something. And we do it all for our kids just as much as we do it for ourselves.
3 years ago I began feeling sick. I knew something was wrong but couldn’t put a finger on it. As time went on, I got worse. One day I woke up and my legs were balloons and I couldn’t move. I stayed this way for one year, it was devastating. I spent endless hours in the hospital, at the lab and at the doctors. Endless tests and no results. No one could find anything. Finally, one year ago, I found a naturopath who saved my life. The next year would prove to be the most difficult. Treatment made me more sick. Somedays I felt like there was no hope. It made me sad to look at my kids and not be able to play with them. It made me sad to not be able to move and dance or even go to the park. I felt like I was slowly losing myself. Today, I am walking again. I can pick up my children. I can be intimate with my husband. I am starting to feel like myself again. As I look back, the past few years is very fuzzy. There’s a lot of darkness. All of this to say: My husband PLEX has just dropped his first music video from his new album. The song is called Lucky Stars and it is dedicated to me.
“My wife, the love of my life, is the centre of our family, our anchor. Watching her struggle with Lyme Disease has been difficult to say the least. I made this video as a tribute to her. To remind her of all the great moments we have had during this dark time.”
Watching it for the first time was overwhelming. He managed to capture some beautiful moments of our family over the past few years. It is a great reminder for me that even though I FELT like was disappearing, I was very much here and still am. Being loved, feeling loved, is such good medicine. He might think that I am the anchor of the family, but I couldn’t have gotten through any of this without his support and love. I, too, thank my lucky stars.
Please watch and share.
You know you’re going to love this one, based on the title alone. The Bad Mother is a feature film in the making. It’s not quite finished yet and the creators, makers, hustlers and creative masterminds behind and in front of the scenes … need our help to do it. After watching the trailer, you’ll understand why this flm needs to get finished. As you wipe tears of laughter from your face.
I had this grand idea to do a recorded Google Chat Q+A with the creators based on that one time I recorded a hands-free breast pumping bra review. Technical difficulties aside, we figured out how to record our little G-chat and you can learn more about the project and why they need our help after the jump!
Warning: to any parental units who don’t want to know about our fire, how we stoke it or any other such things, move along. This is for others who are in the same boat as us, because I know now, the struggle is real and there is no shame in admitting as such. In fact, I think that’s half the battle (or overcoming it). In owning that the early years of parenting can be hella tough on any marriage, regardless of your beliefs and/or pre-existing relationship challenges.
I’m not sure when it happened, I think, because, it’s happened in waves. Slowly, over time, like the coming of maple syrup just before those dark green shards of tulip leaves burst through thawing ground come spring.
If I were a tulip, oh the feels I would have. Awakening, bursting with such a fierce desire to be re-born again. To pierce moist rich soil, yearning for the warm, soothing rays of the sun, to nestle amongst dew kissed mounds of moss, fern and grass.
I would finally feel at home again, those first few days of my awakening.
And everyone around me, especially those humans who planted me with hope and dreaming of a fresh start, a new season, all those months ago. They would rejoice around me, just by the mere sight of me. Me! Just a common old flower.
What’s a wedding without a party? Who likes to party? The answers are, not much – and we do!
I’ve thought long and hard on how I might prose this (largely) pictorial style wrap to the sharing of our wedding photos. Why? (Another question, oh yes.) Well, largely in part because the location of our reception turned out to be rather unfortunate. Not in our enjoyment for the evening of (more or less), but most definitely in the after-math.
I won’t say another thing about it but to link to a review (and other reviews at the end of the fun) when I’m good and ready at the end of this post. (I’ll edit and link-up when that happens.) Because – well – this was our wedding. We don’t want to continue to mar the beauty of the day with any more negativity than that which has already been attempted. We, our guests – our family and friends; set a stellar space, the music flowed (as did a few other libations) and the glow of love and joy was huge. That’s it, that’s all this post should be about; yet on the good word of some colleagues and those who are in the know…it wouldn’t be right to promote said business in a shining light given our experiences.
So I hope you understand the vagueness (I’m sure some of you want the scoop, who doesn’t love a dirty scoop – especially when it comes to a small wedding, in a small town at a local business?) You’ll have to wait for those reviews my pretties and just enjoy the positive flow of these photos. There is a video yet to come and a couple of posts over on Babble where I’ll highlight the kids’ involvement in our wedding a bit more.
Help us lift the memory of our evening up in the light, grace, style and class that it deserves…and leave the rest in the past, my friends. (All amazing photography by Ratul Debnath of Image Pros Photography. You can see PART ONE, The Ceremony, by clicking here.)
There are many things that I could share about our wedding; from the love and support that came pouring in from all directions to help with every little detail and DIY project, (in advance and in the very hour before), our traditional Midewiwin ceremony on the shores of Kempenfelt Bay just down the street from our home and our (questionably – we’ll link to some service reviews down the road) fabulous reception.
It was a day – and night – that we’ll always remember as being remarkable in it’s wild journey, yet final serene moment – that brought is walking through the Eastern Door to honouring our central and third fire. To honour our love, our relationship, our children, our family and let go of any pain from the past.
It was in said wildness of the day that as each love-filled, hectic moment continued, that I tried to savour and ruminate in what I un-folding – but, truth be told – as most brides expereince supposes – my mind was racing and my hands were in a myriad of projects to be finished in time. I definitely wasn’t at the spa getting my make-up and hair done, sipping champagne. Which is fine. I wanted to do a (mostly) DIY wedding and that’s exactly what it was, with everyone we love and who loves us, helping (as if they had a choice!) along on our (my?) quest.
When I received our wedding pictures last night I took pleasure in re-visiting our day, which is the point really. Everyone loves wedding photos – they are a visual, time-less testament and I am deeply grateful to our dear friend Ratul Debnath of Image Pros Photography for lending us his expertise. He is a kind and generous soul that has a place at our dinner table, in our hearts and in our family forevermore. (Thanks dude, for being you.)
We have A LOT of pictures so I’ve decided to break things up into two parts, today’s pictorial is all about the ceremony, beginning with some behind-the-scenes action in our home.
A day of dread is now a day of celebration.
This, an open letter, for all that is wonderful in my small life and so very different from that of parts of my childhood. I used to think that patient, gentle, happy, good fathers were a rarity. Ones that are ever present, right down to dirty diaper changing and late night rocking? Unheard of.
Perhaps that’s the way it is in some other peoples worlds. More-so the dirty, sleepless duties parts.
Not mine. I’m a lucky gal all over the place.
It would seem that no matter how much I used to think I didn’t deserve much more in relationships than what I had been witness to during my childhood; weird, challenging and awesome love? It found me. I didn’t go on ardent search for it – but surely, I did a lot of work within myself before it happened. And I’m still not there. The work is constant, the road is weathered and blossoming and I find myself rolling off into ditch somewhere at times, but still.
When it all comes right down to it – within this great unknown, my own imagination could not have dreamt up a better father for my children. Or partner. For all of our struggles, there is a connection, an acceptance and a passion (however dormant it may lie at times in the wake of newborn after newborn); that makes us solid. Even when we quiver.
It is said that the baby and toddler years are incredibly hard on a relationship. Sure.
They are also part of the glue that keeps us all together. Not all of it – because that would be sad really. No one should ever work to be and stay in a relationship for the sole, ‘sake of the kids’. But the honey of a toddler’s mind and a baby’s adoration is a predominant part of our little hive, my friends. The rest is up to us, to ensure that our sacred commitment; of grandeur and love, never fizzles out. And if it does? To know there will always be embers glowing, just waiting for me/us to get a little dirty at striking them back up again.
Okay, so enough with the metaphors. What I really want to share on the internets, with Father’s Day coming up and all – is a pictorial list of 31 things I love about him, as a father.
For the mommas and the pappas.
Seems nearly impossible. We are too tired. We are too busy. We are constantly in the thick of it: work, house and home, babies, toddlers, chores, repeat. It’s endless. And wide open. I’ve been on a slow and steady remembrance of this everyday. To not get caught up in the stress of the endless, but rather live the dream of the wide open peace. Wild, crazy, young family, peace. Not all peace has to be tranquil and quiet. But, sometimes, it should be.
To create a home filled with joy. Where we create moments, hours and days that flow more than they crash. Some would say this should come naturally. And sometimes yes, it does. But also? It’s hard work people. Sugar-coat I won’t.