My words have been published on a site I love today and I’m honoured to be there (even if my name is spelled wrong in the image – to be fixed!).

Maybe you’ve read them here before, but would you come and read them now when they’re featured on Mamalode? Pretty please?

The post Featured on Mamalode appeared first on Farewell Stranger.

Dear Connor,

Today you turn five.

I’ve been looking at pictures of you from this time last year, and from six months before that, in which you were a little boy.

It seems such a short time ago that you were so little and now, quite suddenly, you are not.

I think I feel this about you—that you are no longer little—because I’m comparing you and your baby brother – you to him, him to you. He has brought Small back into our lives while at the same time you have charged ahead to Big. You didn’t ask whether you could plant yourself firmly in this next phase, you just did. I don’t think I even saw it coming.

There are times you let some of your former Small peek through, like when you come out of the bath and you throw off your hooded towel and your hair is wet and spiky. Or when I wake up in the morning and realize you have come in early-early without me noticing and you are curled up next to your dad, fast asleep. In those moments you are Small.

But mostly you are Big.

You eat more than I ever could have imagined an almost-five-year-old could eat. “Can you get me something to eat?” is a question I hear many, many times a day. You are growing. And you are Tall and you are Long Legs and you are Independent.

You are so big that I almost can’t remember what it was like when you were a baby. And yet you are still the same character who burst onto the stage of our lives five years ago.

“How does our voice come?” you recently asked me. We’ve reached the stage where I have to start looking things up to explain them to you properly. You want the details – the hows and the whys and the what-ifs.

You have rituals. At the end of each day, without fail, you say, “Let’s talk about our day,” and “What shall we do tomorrow?”

You are curious and busy and stubborn and loud. You have to be reminded—often—to use your inside voice and your listening ears, to put your shoes on so we can get out the door, to not jump on your brother. Often, these requests have no effect on you whatsoever.

We are still push-pull, you and I. We are the same in temperament and different in our desires, requiring a not-always-achieved balance of your Loud versus my Quiet, your Bounce versus my Still. I don’t always get it right, yet after five years I have mostly figured out when to push forward and when to pull back.

Sometimes you slow right down and set everything else aside—the noise and the toys and the games and the shows—and you get quiet. You ask to hold your baby brother. You feed him. You sing him a song when he cries.

I watch you brothering him and I see your heart shine though. It is Big, just like you are. And it makes my heart big too.

I will love you always and forever,

Mama xx

The post Now You Are Five appeared first on Farewell Stranger.

This is a moment in time, but it’s also a feeling.

It’s when they can both lie on Daddy, and it’s looking at my family and how they just fit.

It’s seeing them all together on one couch, and it’s knowing that in what will feel like mere moments we won’t all be under the same roof.

It’s when both of them are little enough for me to pick up, and it’s knowing exactly what their small bodies feel like in my arms.

It’s when one looks so big next to his baby brother, and it’s wishing for a pause button because I know I won’t have this view for long.

It’s looking at my smallest while he’s still a baby, and it’s wondering what he will be like as a boy and then a man.

It’s looking at my biggest in the week before he turns five, and it’s knowing this is the last summer he will still seem like a little boy.

It’s seeing what looks like a dog-pile on their dad, and it’s knowing part of him wishes he could keep them that way forever.

It’s looking at my three boys, and it’s not being able to imagine life any other way.

The post Behind This Moment appeared first on Farewell Stranger.

Elaine is hosting Old School Blogging again, this time with Jennifer as her co-host. I like doing a fun, about-me type post once in a while, and I’m always good with an alphabet meme, so let’s go!

A: Attached or single?

Attached, and amazed every day that I got so lucky.

B: Best friend?

My husband, I’d say, but very grateful for these girls too.

C: Cake or pie?

I don’t generally say no to either, but my husband has perfected pie (crust, filling, the whole deal) so I’ll go with that.

D: Day of choice?

Friday. Right now, anyway. I get the afternoon to write and I like the vibe Fridays have.

E: Essential item?

Chapstick.

F: Favourite colour?

Pink.

G: Gummy bears or worms?

No, thank you. I’m not really a candy eater.

H: Hometown?

Victoria, BC.

I: Favourite indulgence?

A Smarties Blizzard. You Americans that don’t have Smarties are seriously missing out.

J: January or July?

January. I don’t like hot weather, I dig winter stuff, and it has such a feeling of possibility.

K: Kids?

Yes, these two. (There is a second under there. And his hood just fell like that, but his big brother thought it was pretty funny.)

L: Life isn’t complete without?

Walks in the sunshine, a glimpse of the mountains, time by the ocean, an opportunity to learn something new, family time, chocolate.

M: Marriage date?

August 28, 2004.

N: Number of brothers and sisters?

One brother, two sisters. One half-brother, one half-sister.

O: Oranges or apples?

Apples.

P: Phobias?

Spiders, claustrophobia, the dark. Yes, I’m afraid of the dark. Shut up.

Q: Quotes?

When I was in high school I had a journal that I collected quotes in. At the time, my goal was to fill it up, which seemed like a lofty goal at the time. I eventually stopped adding quotes to it, though I love them still. But one quote has been my favourite for a long time, and I think it can be applied to most things in life:

R: Reasons to smile?

Ethan’s baby laugh, Connor’s big heart, a really good book, a fantastic run, the perfect cup of tea, a decadent dessert, a really good day.

S: Season of choice?

Winter. I’m Canadian, eh?

T: Tag five people.

I hate tagging people.

U: Unknown fact about me?

Gosh, is there anything? What haven’t I told you? Okay, here’s a story from today:

I have an anaphylactic reaction to shellfish. Or at least I used to. When I was 21 I quite suddenly became allergic after eating it all my life. With the first incident, I got really sick and thought it was food poisoning. Then about a week later I ate it again and ended up in the hospital, where they told me I really ought not to eat shellfish anymore if I wanted to see my 22nd birthday. I carried an EpiPen for years, but I never had to use it because, for the most part, shellfish is an easy thing to avoid. And the darn things cost about $70 a pop, so I got a little tired of paying for something that I never used and that expired pretty fast. My husband was not a fan of this approach, but I’m stubborn.

After today, though, he wins. We were at a farmer’s market just out of town (i.e. fairly far from the hospital) and I ate some samples of curry from a vendor that sells kits. It wasn’t until my sister and I had both tried all three kinds that she pointed out the little sign that said, “Contains shrimp paste.”

Commence panic!

I’m fine, though, and it seems that perhaps I have outgrown that particular allergy (which I have long suspected). But I will still get an EpiPen until I can get some testing done just to put my mind at ease (and because after today if I don’t my husband will probably divorce me).

So a generally unknown fact about me? I should carry an EpiPen but I don’t because I’m stupid. (But, man, that curry was good.)

V: Vegetable?

English peas.

W: Worst habit?

Nail biting.

X: X-ray or ultrasound?

Ultrasounds. I had so many ultrasounds with both pregnancies that I’m a pro.

Y: Your favourite food?

Right now it’s this salad.

Z: Zodiac sign?

Sagittarius. Fire sign, baby!

Those are my answers. What about yours?

The post A To Z: Old School Blogging appeared first on Farewell Stranger.

Some day, a young girl will be sitting in my kitchen thinking she’s not good enough or smart enough or strong enough. She may not be my girl, but I will see myself in her and I will say this:

“I know. Me too. But keep going. Do it anyway. Do it because you can. Do it because you love it. Nothing else matters.”

Influencing girls and helping them be strong—unstoppable, if you will—is really important to me, which is what my latest post at Yummy Mummy Club is about.

Have you felt like this? I’d love it if you’d come and share.

The post Influencing Girls as a Mom of Boys appeared first on Farewell Stranger.

Q. Why did the blogger buy a hot pink iPhone charger?

A. Because her husband kept stealing her usual charger and she thought a pink one might deter him. 

That’s not a joke so much as a story loosely based on my own life. (Okay, totally based on my own life.) But here’s the real punchline: It didn’t deter him. I guess the joke’s on me.

Is it just mine or does your husband steal your phone charger too? Let’s see if we can fix that. I’m going to give you the step-by-step details on how I’ve solved this problem and give you a chance to do the same.

1. Accept the offer from London Drugs to get a fun gift for your husband for Father’s Day.

2. Get your husband to browse their selection and let you know what he might like.

2a. Laugh when one of the items on his list is the Ove Glove.

3. Briefly consider his suggestion of a waffle maker but decide that’s probably not good for your desire to continue fitting into your clothes.

4. Decide to go with the portable iPhone docking station he liked in hopes of reclaiming both your usual iPhone charger and your spiffy hot pink one.

5. Celebrate Father’s Day knowing your Wife of the Year award is in the bag.

And there you have it! Easy peasy.

Want one of these for your own? (You don’t even have to give it to your husband/dad/other father figure – I won’t tell.) You can enter using the Rafflecopter form below.

And Happy Father’s Day to all you great dads out there. The world is better for having you in it.

Disclaimer: This post is sponsored by London Drugs but the plan to use it to win Father’s Day is all my own and was endorsed by my husband.

a Rafflecopter giveaway

The post Fun Father’s Day Giveaway appeared first on Farewell Stranger.

I’ve had lots of excuses for not running in the last 18 months. At first it was because we had just moved and there was a lot of snow on the ground and I didn’t really feel like breaking my neck. And then I got pregnant. And then I had just had a baby. And then there was snow on the ground again.

Then my husband got me some Yaktrax, which removed my fear that I might break my neck. The first time I wore them it was -18C (about 0F) and I managed to stay warm enough and figured I was good to go. But then in January I twisted my ankle and I stopped running, and I didn’t really start again.

I started to think maybe I wasn’t a runner anymore. I was feeling too old and achey. My knees weren’t cooperating. I was sucking wind and generally feeling like all my running mojo had veered off the path and run away without me.

I did other things. Boot camps and Jillian Michaels workouts and yoga. Long walks with big hills. Pilates. All of which were fine, but I didn’t find myself in any of them. There was a piece of me missing.

So I took to the trails again.

I’ve walked a lot in our area in the short time we’ve been here, but when I started running I didn’t yet have my go-to running routes the way I used to. And we live on a ridge, so no matter what direction I go I end up coming home on a hill. But still, I ran. I looped out and back, and followed paths. I found some trails and ran them to see where they went. I still sucked wind, but I was running. I had no particular thoughts about it; it just seemed good enough.

This morning when I got up I re-evaluated my planned run. My knees were complaining and I was sore after a challenging yoga practice last Wednesday and a stroller fit class on Friday. I was feeling like I’d been working hard and maybe skipping a run wouldn’t be a bad thing.

And then I got inspired and figured I’d do a short one. It was my day to walk the dog anyway.

If you follow my Facebook page you know how it turned out. I got to the end of the “out” part of my planned out-and-back and saw the entry to a path I hadn’t seen before. So I went down it. To make an hour-long story short, I got lost. After following a series of paths I ended up way, way down at the bottom of a glen and, just as I was starting to wonder where the trail came out, it ended.

Apparently this is where the sidewalk ends.

I have no idea why the trail ends there. At some point, someone must have decided that was all they were going to do. Or maybe they ran out of asphalt.

In any case, I found my mojo. It was down at the bottom of a glen, waiting for me on a rainy Sunday morning.

I’m a runner again.

The post Lacing Up appeared first on Farewell Stranger.

Have you heard of Maternal Paralysis Syndrome? 68% of moms have it and I’m one of them.

Find the explanation in my latest post at Yummy Mummy Club.

The post Maternal Paralysis Syndrome appeared first on Farewell Stranger.

If you’ve been reading my blog for a while (or have spent any time browsing the archives) you’ll be well aware that I used to bare my soul on here on a daily basis. Desperate times call for desperate measures, as they say, and my desperation used to lead me to sharing just how awful I was feeling with anyone who chose to read about it.

It used to be easier to do that.

I’ve had some rough days lately and part of me wanted to just stay silent and pretend that everything was hunky dory. Maybe that’s because I don’t want to admit that I can’t prevent bad days with baby #2 just by sheer force of will. (Okay, that’s a big part of it.) But it’s also partly because I don’t really want to get into it. I don’t want my mother worrying that she’s going to have to talk me off the ledge again. I don’t want to appear vulnerable.

Feeling vulnerable sucks.

But feeling like I’m not being true to myself sucks as well. I know – I don’t have to share anything here if I don’t want to. But this blog is part of my path through this whole experience so I’m okay with sharing things here.

The good news is that the last couple of days have been better. The extra good news is that I haven’t had any more conversations with the steam cleaner. (I would, however, like to point out that my husband mistook the steam cleaner for Connor the other night too. He didn’t actually talk to the steam cleaner, so he maintains he’s clearly more sane than I, but I’m not convinced. I think he’s just less inclined to talk to inanimate objects in the middle of the night.)

In any case, I hate feeling like I spilled my guts and then went radio silent. So here’s a picture of some old-fashioned toffee tins.

Pretty, don’t you think?

The post Breaking Radio Silence appeared first on Farewell Stranger.

Last night I decided to be a big girl and take the new medication I was nervous about taking (one reason being that it has a sedating effect so I wasn’t sure how the night wakings were going to go). The first time I got up I felt drunk, exactly as if I’d had a little too much to drink. I’m not a big fan of that, but I’m hoping it either goes away or Ethan sleeps long enough that I sleep through that phase.

Around 3:30 I came back into our room after feeding Ethan. Then Rich got up to blow his nose and I had a lovely conversation with the steam cleaner thinking it was Connor.

“Hi buddy. What’s wrong?”

The steam cleaner/Connor didn’t answer.

“Are you okay?”

Still no answer.

I sat in bed trying to remember what colour t-shirt Connor had on when he went to bed. I was sure it was a dark one.

“Connor, love? Are you there?”

Connor the Steam Cleaner was silent.

At that point Rich came out of the bathroom.

“What’s that?” I asked him. “Is that Connor?”

“No, that was me blowing my nose.”

Apparently he’s not terribly good at following along with insane conversations in the middle of the night.

“No, that. In the corner. Is that Connor?”

Rich did an impression of a dog chasing his tail as he turned around and around to see what the hell I was talking about.

“What?! Who’s there?!”

Understanding dawned.

“That thing in the corner? That’s the steam cleaner,” he explained.

“Oh. I thought it was Connor.”

“You scared the crap out of me.”

I shrugged and went back to my drunken sleep. At least we didn’t have another kid to put back to bed.

PS Don’t ask why we have a steam cleaner camped out in the corner of our bedroom.

PPS He was wearing a light-coloured t-shirt.

The post Conversations with the Steam Cleaner appeared first on Farewell Stranger.

You know how sometimes you talk to your psychiatrist about developing a plan to wean off your anti-depressants but then you find yourself making another appointment to talk about how that’s not a good idea? And it’s because you’re getting mad at stupid things too often and you find yourself crying over silly things enough that you’re developing an intimate relationship with soggy Kleenex? When that happens, instead of a plan to decrease your dosage you come out with a prescription for a new medication to add on top of your existing anti-depressant.

Or at least that’s what happened to me.

I am…disheartened about this. I’m also terrified to start a new medication (and, admittedly, a bit stubborn because I DON’T WANT TO HAVE TO) so I’ve had it for two days and haven’t managed to actually take it yet. Maybe tonight.

I don’t really know what else to say about this yet, but I wrote a post on my Yummy Mummy Club blog that was meant to be poignant but ended up just being sad, so I feel like I need to put this out there.

Sometimes there are just too many tears at bedtime. (And other times too. But hopefully not for long.)

The post Blip appeared first on Farewell Stranger.

We went back to Victoria recently for a few days. It was a great trip, filled with visits with friends and family and some time by the ocean. I think I needed that.

Connor did too. I know he misses his friends, and he gets SO excited when we’re going back and he knows he gets to see them. We get inundated with questions about when we’re going to see them and are we going there now and if not now when and is it time yet and are we going there NOW?

I understand his excitement and sometimes I wonder if he’ll be forever changed because of having been moved away from his since-birth friends. I mean, I know he will be changed, but will he be scarred? I hope not. As long as we visit often enough I really hope he’ll continue to have a relationship with these kids as he grows up. And this time he wasn’t too sad to leave. He did mention missing his friends and wanting to stay, but as soon as we got home he said he was glad to be back in Calgary, so that eases my mama-guilt somewhat.

No matter what, though, moving with kids is tough. Rich moved a lot as a kid and I moved once when I was almost five and then stayed in the same city until I went to university. Does moving as a kid affect your friendships? Your ability to make friends? I’ve been thinking about that.

Today I’m guest posting for Gigi at Kludgy Mom about our move with Connor and how the transition has been. I’ll also be on a panel of moms talking about moving (or not moving) kids and what our experiences have been. That’s happening at 1 pm Eastern today (May 22) on Google+ (and the video will be available afterwards in case you want to watch it).

So if you have thoughts about moving with kids or questions about moving with kids (or just want to hear my Canadian accent) come and read my guest post and then check out our Bonfire Chat on G+!

Comments here closed.

The post Moving with Kids appeared first on Farewell Stranger.

A simple post today, inspired by Sarah at The Sunday Spill and her post Because Everything Feels Lighter at Present.

We stayed here —the Banff Springs Hotel—last night. It’s incredible.

My mom worked in the dining room here in the 60s. The hotel is celebrating its 125th anniversary and she went up for an alumni weekend, except—crazy lady that she is—she didn’t stay the second night and gave it to us instead. AND she took Connor home with her; we kept Ethan and had a lovely night to ourselves.

Banff is where we went for the day on last weekend’s ill-fated Mother’s Day and, at the time, we had no idea we’d be back again so soon, and in such a beautiful setting. We met my mom in the afternoon after her visits and tours etc., and had a chance to wander around and go for dinner. She told us stories about working at the hotel, some of which I knew and some I didn’t. She talked about how she ended up there and what she did. She told us who her friends were and why that time in her life mattered.

This morning we had breakfast in a beautifully furnished lounge with windows that look out over the mountains, which we had to ourselves because apparently no one else had discovered that you can sit in there. Rich mentioned that he had wandered through the gallery that showcases the history of the hotel and saw a 1920s-era picture of people sitting on the ledge right outside the window we were sitting by. The view, apparently, looked almost exactly the same. I found myself wishing someone had perfected time travel so we could go back and surreptitiously stand there as they were having their picture taken. Wouldn’t you love to have the ability to take everything you know now and go back in time to appreciate a place as it was years and years ago? I would spend a lot of my time popping invisibly into scenes and pondering what life would have been like in the same places but at very different times.

And so it was, as you can imagine, a lovely day. An unexpected, quiet night at a nice hotel is a beautiful thing, but I’m especially grateful that I got to see my mom and hear her stories in that environment. It made me smile. It’s as close as I’ll ever get to travelling back in time to be there with her when she was young.

The post Time Travel Smiles appeared first on Farewell Stranger.

Everyone needs help once in a while.

My kids have been sick and my husband’s away and a couple of meals would really help. 

But asking for help is hard.

Some days are really long and I could use a play date so my kids and I aren’t in each others’ faces all the time.

I’m lucky to be part of a group of women where this isn’t a problem.

My dad needs help and I can’t get there for a few days. Can someone help him?

Need help? Ask for help. Several will respond.

I just had surgery and I need someone to drive my oldest to school tomorrow.

Notice someone struggling? Nominate her for help. Spread the love.

Some baking would be lovely. 

It doesn’t have to be big things. Sometimes the little things are what we need most.

Ask for help. Offer help.

We all need help sometimes.

I feel incredibly lucky to have found a group of friends here from whom I can ask for help when needed and offer help when asked. It really is a blessing and I wish that for everyone.

The post Just Say the Word appeared first on Farewell Stranger.

Sometimes when I think about what I want for my kids I get caught up in the idea of a typical (stereotypical?) childhood. You know, like riding bikes all over the neighbourhood and…whatever else it is that kids are “supposed” to do. (Clearly this is not a well-thought-out angst.) In any case, I feel like we put one important piece in place on the weekend.

We went to the circus!

It’s possible that Rich and I were as excited about this as Connor, but he was totally excited. He was dying to see the elephants. As in, kept asking when we were going to see them. Ah, to have no patience whatsoever. But, boy, did we get to see the elephants.

We got VIP passes, which got us a behind-the-scenes tour of what goes on in and around the big top before the show starts. Connor—who normally won’t sit still for anyone—loved the ringmaster when we got to hear him talk about the circus. (And he wasn’t even in full costume at that point.) He told everyone we saw the next day that he got to meet the ringmaster. Maybe if I put on a sparkly coat Connor would listen to me better…

Anyway, then (I feel like we need a drum roll here) we got to visit the elephants.

They were having a bath when we first got there.

And then… Oh my, and then we got to feed them.

Well, Ethan didn’t. His aim with a banana isn’t very good. But Connor loved tossing a banana over the fence and watching the elephant pick it up.

Too bad the little bugger wouldn’t let me take his picture. But—ha ha—too bad the little bugger didn’t see the photographer there.

Love the joy on his face. Magic childhood moment, check.

But it got even better inside when he got to have a ride on an elephant. The kid was in heaven. (As was his dad, I think.)

The show itself was really good. I’m always in awe of what these performers can do.

See? Awe. (And kind of enjoying watching with my biggest boy on my lap.)

The acrobats were amazing. But man, oh man. Better them than me.

Especially this guy. The grand finale was the Wheel of Destiny, and I was sure this guy was destined to end up taking a tumble. But nope. He walked around on that big ol’ spinning wheel and made the rest of us hold our collective breath. Grand finale indeed.

The elephants were awesome. The acrobats were incredible. But what I thought was especially cool is that this circus tour is the Zerbini family’s 250th anniversary. Can you imagine? A family business that goes back that far… Their stories at Thanksgiving must be something else.

I have a feeling we’ll be talking about this one at our dinner table for a while too.

Disclaimer: I was gifted VIP passes to the Royal Canadian Circus for my family, but our love for the circus (and the beloved elephants) is entirely our own. 

The Royal Canadian Circus is in Calgary for a few more performances May 16-20. You can buy tickets through their Facebook page, and the code “FUN” will get you 2-for-1 general admission tickets.

Professional photos courtesy Kevin Yee, KISSPHOTO INC.

The post Bring on the Elephants appeared first on Farewell Stranger.