On Taking a Break and a Deep Breath

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I followed my little girls around the gardens. We watched the mallard duck swim in circles, they threw dandelions in the water fountain. My big girl danced her way along the paths, calling back to me,  ’let’s go this way, Mummy’.  I was completely taken by the sun sparkles in the water and millions of baby blue forget-me-nots everywhere.

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We crossed the road, parked the stroller and explored our favourite woodland trails. We stayed at the tire swing for ages, we all took turns and when I wasn’t pushing the tire, I drank in the gorgeous light filtering through the trees.

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We kept walking, around the corner, over the tree roots and down the hill. We stopped at the first bridge, just a big log that has been smoothed over and made secure. The girls made themselves at home in the brook, splashing and getting all damp and lovely. 

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I sat and just breathed. It was the deep breath I needed. The hamster wheel stopped for a little while and I let myself be quiet.

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I need to do that more often. I’ve flirted with the edge of burn out too many times over this past year. And so I’m stopping. I’m going to take a little holiday, with my little family. We’ll be going off-line and off-everything. We’ll be hanging out together, going for day trips to adorable little Nova Scotian towns, and saying ‘pooh, pooh’ to the tiger at the zoo. I’ll be getting off the hamster wheel of the endless screen. I’ll look deep into my little ones eyes and hold hands with my husband. And I won’t instagram any of it.  

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It’s a break. It’s my version of Bilbo’s holiday to the elves. I understand completely when he said felt like butter, spread too thin. Unlike Bilbo, I’ll be back.  I’ll post this week’s weekly pictures and then I’ll close the laptop and turn off my phone. And I’ll open them again, sometime next week.

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How do you stay refreshed in the everydayness of life? Do you take breaks regularly or are you ready to go on a holiday to the elves as well? 

Baby Steps for a (food) Revolution

In celebration of Food Revolution Day started by Jamie Oliver, here are my baby steps to start a revolution in your own kitchen. Here’s to all of us eating real food and making wise choices with what we’ve been given!

 

It’s one thing at a time. You switch out the white pasta and rice for their brown, whole wheat counterparts. It takes a little getting used too but pretty soon you wouldn’t have it any other way.

Then it’s the fats. Your cupboard is filled with jugs of olive oil, jars of coconut oil and pounds of butter. You save the bacon fat from the pastured, locally raised pork and you use it to grease your bread pans.

You learn to welcome the strong taste of clover honey in your morning oatmeal and who would ever say no to maple syrup topping their weekend waffles?

Terms like paleo, vegan, lacto-paleo and gluten-free are familiar to you. Fair trade, organic and ethically-produced are some of the words you look for when you read labels.

Pretty soon you’re one of those people. Crunchy, baby-wearing, montessori-schooling, barefoot, hippie people.

Or not.

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You’re a normal person caring about the people you share life with. You’re trying to do the best you can with what you have. You’re overwhelmed by all the choices and all the passion. (Or am I the only one?) You want to start somewhere, clean up your cupboards, feel good after you eat, and have more energy without more coffee. It’s a process, it’s a change, it’s a lifestyle.

I could just give you a list of books. Read Michael Pollan. And follow what he says.

I could just say listen to your body. It will tell you what you should eat.

But it’s so much more about going paleo and wearing your baby. It’s not about limiting your carb intake so you fit into summer shorts. It’s not about eating quinoa because its trending right now.

It’s about taking good care of the bodies that we have each been entrusted with. It’s about waking up each day and being grateful to be alive and living to the fullest. It’s about tasting the food and knowing the story of how it got to your plate. It’s showing grace and love while we each do our best with what we have been given. It’s about each of us having our own story and our own revolution. I’ll share bits of ours and you share bits of yours and we’ll inspire each other.

Have you made any baby steps to change the way you eat? Does your kitchen need a revolution?

19/52

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a portrait of my girls, once a week, every week in 2013 

My little girl, happily walking all by herself in a forget-me-not lined forest path.

My big girl, currently completely taken with ballet, dancing in the sunlight, doing pointe in her converse.

We soaked up the sun and the beauty and the spring flowers that day. It was a gift. And a welcome gift in a week of doing everything solo. But my man returns tonight and I’m so happy.

What little gifts are you grateful for today?

linking up with Project 52 at Che and Fidel 

Twitterature: May Edition aka What I’m Reading

Unbroken: A World War II story of Survival, Resilience, and Redemption :: Laura Hillenbrand

I couldn’t stop turning the pages or gasping at what these men went through. The horror, the inhumanity, and the pain. Yet they kept on and kept on. Not for the faint of heart but so worth the read.

Sparkly Green Earrings: catching the light at every turn :: Melanie Shankle

This has been on my to-read list every since it circled the interwebs and when it was free on kindle, I downloaded it immediately. I laughed, I cried, and I felt so normal. Motherhood is hard. It’s intense and this book was refreshing in my own journey. It’s called a memoir of motherhood and I kind of want to give to every mother I know.

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Theodore Boone: kid lawyer :: John Grisham

Super fun, light read that I grabbed on a whim from the young adult section at the library simply because I was curious to see what a John Grisham book for kids would be like. It was good and just the ticket for some light reading before bed.

A Homemade Life: stories and recipes from my kitchen table :: Molly Wizenberg

I wanted to eat everything. I wanted to go to Paris. And Seattle. I wanted to cook a massive feast for all my loved ones. My favourite type of book. I’ll probably read it again in a month.

Have you read anything good lately?

linking up with Twitterature at Modern Mrs. Darcy

Today is a Good Day

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Sometimes its a desperate attempt at something. A redemption of a day gone different then how you envisioned. Something that sounds so refreshing and good-mom-ish. Something to wear out little bodies who have endless energy and think that waking up 11:30pm and going back to sleep at 1:30am is a good idea.

It’s the beach. It’s sand, waves, and rocks. It’s beautiful. We arrived in our summer skirts and flip flops with buckets and shovels to make sand castles. Everyone else we saw were zipping up their MEC jackets and wearing hardcore hiking shoes. The girls didn’t care. So I didn’t either.

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They threw endless rocks in the receding water, the tide was going out when we got there. They sang at the top of their lungs songs they made up on the spot for the occasion. They laughed because it was such a good day. 

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And then I laughed too. Because these little humans who exhaust me, challenge me, push me to my limits and then some? These little humans fill me with love and show me grace, they give me the gift of wonder and rapture over little things. These little humans who don’t care how I look or if the floor needs sweeping. They just want me. Present with them, throwing rocks, singing songs, dancing on the wet sand and then running to car while the rain spatters down.

They teach me what a good day looks like. Today is a good day. Go, live and enjoy it. The little things, the not-so-great things and the big things. 

 

10 on 10: May Edition

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ten pictures, every hour(-ish) on the tenth of the month 

1. all of our feet

2. morning coffee, where we lingered long after the cups were emptied, such a gift to be together

3. i love my flowers, such splash of colour and beauty

4. khaira: all curls, dimples and cuteness

5. kilmeny loves to ‘fix’ the pencil crayons by sharpening them over and over again, she’s developing a love for drawing

6. the girls contemplating Daddy’s suitcase

7. summer drinks: italian sodas with lime

8. us

9. holding hands, together, up the road to dear friends

10. my big girl, fixing a snack for her ‘may may’ (little sister) all by herself

 joining with Rebekah of A Bit of Sunshine in celebrating the bits of beauty everyday

A confession for Mother’s Day

It’s Mother’s Day on Sunday. In case you didn’t know that and needed yet another reminder. I’m not hosting a giveaway or recommending a list of top ten perfect gifts for mom, others have done that. And all of their lists are beautiful.

Instead I’m going to make a confession. I struggle with mother’s day. I do. And I said it out loud on the internet which must mean something deep and important. I struggle with it not because I don’t think it’s important or special.

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No, not at all. Some of my most favorite memories from growing up are our Funston family get-togethers to honor my Nana. She is our queen and adored by all her grandchildren. It seemed right to honor her. We often got flowers for my Mom, my older sister arranging a wrist corsage for Mom to wear to church. And we all gave her the carnations and made her breakfast. I wish I could make her breakfast this Sunday but I’m across the country from her.

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The girls and I made pictures for their grandmas, my mother and my mother-in-law. Because it’s good to celebrate them.

But sometimes when the focus is on me, me as a mother, I cringe. I know my shortcomings, my impatience, my grumpiness at yet another mess (what else would I expect from a 20 month old quietly playing in the bathroom, of course she’s going to try to clean the toilet). I’m familiar with me and all my failures as a mom. I don’t feel ready to be honoured as mom yet.

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I’m not going to get breakfast in bed on Sunday or a pedicure in the afternoon. I may get flowers, picked with love by my big girl, the bright yellow dandelions that I love. I will get tight hugs from little arms who say its okay when I say I’m sorry for getting upset. I will get kisses galore from little rosebud lips. I will get the privilege of spending the day with my darlings, my little girls who make me aware of the beauty and the wonder in the world.

And I will accept all these good gifts.

If you need a little encouragement as you mother today or Thursday or Sunday, here’s a brief beautiful video. Go watch it. 

You Don’t Know You’re Beautiful

We sing it on our wire whisks, pretending they are mics. We dance around the kitchen, our arms mimicking the music as we twirl and swirl. I stare deep into their blue and brown eyes, telling them just how amazing they are. 

I tell them that they are beautiful, that they don’t need makeup to cover up. I tell them that I love them just the way they are.

I dance, ignoring my awkwardness at first and then losing myself in the giggles and the spontaneity of a three year old and a 20 month old’s dance routine. I lift them above my head, ‘just like the ballerinas, mummy’.

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When they ask if they are pretty, I tell them that yes, darling, you are pretty. When they ask if I am pretty, I tell them that yes, I am pretty.

And I silence for a time those voices inside that tell me I’m not pretty. Because I am. Because you are pretty. You are beautiful. 

When you love on those little ones who drive you crazy with their questions and delight you with their wonder. When you get up again, and kiss that bad dream away. When you keep loading the washer with clothes, keep washing the dishes, keep cleaning the toilets.

You’re beautiful.

You’re amazing. Just the way you are. Even when your messy bun isn’t done on purpose, it’s just thrown up to get it out of reach. Even when your toe nail polish is chipped  from playing  at the park or in the dirt. Even if your workout with Jillian Michaels didn’t happen but you pushed the stroller all over town and gave endless under ducks on the swings.

Yes, darlings. Audrey Hepburn was right, happiest girls are the prettiest. I see the way your eyes light up when you laugh, the way your face is soft when you smile and the sun makes your hair sparkle.

It’s true. You don’t know you’re beautiful. But you are. Go and live like it.

 

 

P.S. I’m working on a little instragram project so I’ve been looking through older pictures and decided to share these ones with you. I love these ones borrowed from my husband, so precious.