Posts Tagged: BSM
The Babe, She Sleeps. At 1 Month Old Today!
The BSM is away on tour. This video of their Tom Foolery during a Robson Valley mudslide has some to do with their musical talent but all sorts to do with their plain awesomeness.
The Naming Ceremony
Over the weekend, our elder came to visit. This woman, this goddess, this Midewin Healer, has brought so much cohesion, knowledge, love, ceremony, healing and understanding into our family. I am grateful everyday for the relationships that have transpired because of you and me, songbird. Songbird is one of my best girl’s and our elder is her mama.
The Naming Ceremony
This particular visit was to ‘officially’ offer her sema (tobacco, one of the four sacred medicines) to seek a name for our new growing baby, still on the inside, so that she may begin the task of prayer and fasting. For those of you who don’t know, this is part of the process called, The Naming Ceremony, a First Nations Cultural ceremony.
It is where one receives their spirit name, which tells you something about that person, their personality, their mission in this life. Parents may choose to use the spirit name given by their elder as a first or second name.
When a name is decided upon, the naming ceremony begins. Most of the time, the one who presents the name is the one to whom the sema was given, but this is not always the case. The name is presented to the grandfather spirits in the four directions, and everyone who is in the ceremony has to say that traditional name is presented. The family usually prepares a feast and does a giveaway.
Where, Oh Where
Have I been? Painting, painting, painting. Designing kitchen islands and fireplace mantles, unpacking and organizing galore. Not to mention working on my new spring line, making application deadlines for summer fall and Christmas artisan shows and taking on a new contract as the ‘social media maven’ (?) for Borealis Records. Yes, the WSL in in daycare part-time. Going on 2 weeks and he LOVES it. I am not that kind of super-woman.
We may not have done ‘hard-core’ reno’s…but yea. It’s been quite enough for us! Phew! (Not to mention the actual pack, move and the un-packing which can’t really be done till the painting is done, all with a toddler under-foot, WHEEeeeEEEee!
To Be Young & Wild & Free – A Love Story
I had 6 too many drinks last night.
That was a regular occurrence, and then some, ‘back in the day’. Always trying so hard to forget. And then I stopped. I came to some honest truths about myself. I stopped ignoring that I was smart enough to know that a path of self-destruction would not lead to anywhere I really wanted to be. Not rocket science, easier said than done.
Ours is not a conventional love story. This is the the story of how we met. I’m not going to get all poetic in describing how we fell in love because, well – I don’t feel like rolling that way right now.
Ghosts From Christmas Past
Boogedy Boo.
Life has a very strange way of crushing one at times. With love, blessed beginnings, nasty-sickness-that-just-won’t-go-away, deadlines, defeat, waves of overpowering depression, doubt, joy, never-ending-to-do-list, fear, mayhem. I’ve been indulging in escapism to ignore, y’know; the procrastinate to make it worse syndrome.
I’m told I’m too hard on myself, but – this. Is. JUST. HOW. I. FEEL. As you can tell I am pulling myself out of a wee bit of a dark hole as of late, despite the beauty (and madness) trailing out from the holidays and the bliss of my recent engagement and the most joyful news! It turns out that those doctors really were wrong. Wrong. Wrong. Wrong. Baby no. 2 is on the way! I’d say that the birth of 1 and expected pregnancy of another is proof that I’m quite fertile, yes? That and the BSM has some stellar swimmers.
Mr. Skippy Pants
While this momma and her BSM were sleeping away the morning after their debaucherous round of Halloween costume donning, white russian and chinese food consuming, and other delightful things far too naughty to talk about here…
O yes, while we were having a luxurious, rare, in.dire.need.of – slumber past 6 am; this is what the WSL was doing. Oh no, he doesn’t just save the cute for us, apparently that’s just how he rolls. Neither do his g-parents (save the cute for only us), with whom he was staying over-night with apparently, as they put together this little diddy.
The McFlies Love Boob
It’s been more than a couple of weeks since the WSL and I attended this gig with the daddio subbing on upright. (Bass). That and uncle David is in the band and this mama has never seen them play before. For shame. Because really, these boys are so fun. So good. So cute. What a booty-shake inducing enterprise! I’m talkin’ about the McFlies, so much more than an 80’s coverband – Don’t take my word for it, have a gander of this video taken on the night of…
To Market, To Market…
So I’m nutters. It’s official. Most of you may have noticed that in lieu of the huge summer projects that I have on the go, that le petite reve has been put on hold until the fall. Big, huge, time-waffling projects. The most important one being, which I LOVE – my growing baby, my sweet WSL. The other biggie is that festival you’ve all heard me blather on about, the Eaglewood Folk Festival. I’m on the Board, I’m the Volunteer Coordinator to over 100 peeps, I fundraise, I design, I implement, I do, do, I do. It has been rewarding in many ways, but it’s time to move on and this will be my last year. I have a family now and a new business to get off the ground. Dreams to make reality. O yea, we were also on tour for most of the summer with the BSM and the band he slaps serious funky, sexy bass for, Digging Roots. It helps that they are family of the non-blood kind and that available internet and and king size beds for co-sleeping families were written into their Tech Riders. Ha, Ha.
A 9 mo. Old Wee Strappin’ Lad aka: WSL
Could it be? My sweet baby boy; our Little Big Spirit Running, that you’ve entered into three quarters of a year in age? Nine months and a few days past when you found your place in this realm, here on earth. Leader from the sky; Wyndham Nighanagiizhig Tobias Mills.
You’d been dreamt about by me. Dreamt about by our elder as a wise leader from the spirit realm; here now, to run wild, happy and free. Running to discover the knowledge you have, as given to you by our grandfathers. But first it’s your toes to discover…tiny little nubs round and sweet as corn apparently, as you repeatedly flex them up to your mouth to gobble and slurp upon. The tickle of grass you clench and gritty feel of dirt you claw with glee. Your voice, your limbs, the magic in every corner. Every day is pure joy and exploration through your eyes, transposed into me. You give us such complete and natural bliss. The world is different now to us, to me, through your wise young eyes…
The Dipe Lowdown
So I’m a quirky; trend-following, cloth diapering, hip-hippy, yuppy. Alright then. It’s a trend I’m proud to be a part of. What I don’t jive with, however, is the passive aggressive frost. It’s no breaking news bulletin that although women should stand united to support each-other in all of our vast/different ways of life, a majority of us, we don’t. We judge, we get our meow on. Even if we don’t say it, we think it. We label. Over GOOD things. Why? Hmph. Well, that’s a whole other post. Something to do with raging ego’s and a lot of other complicated things. I never thought that when I made the decision to cloth diaper that I would be ostracized for doing so and labeled all sorts of tom foolery. I read about it, I experience it in groups with other mommies…it’s everywhere!
CONNECT WITH JENNIFER
CONNECT WITH SELENA
