Posts Tagged: Motherhood

Inside The Mind of a Little Girl Who Wants To Stop The World

IMG_9370 Right now she’s cackling in the other room. Slow and calculated, as she makes up the story to words she can’t read yet, from one of the books she has opened from the pile that lay scattered about her feet. There’s a trail of books in fact from the bathroom door leading to underneath the dining room table where Schleich animals are splayed out amongst those books ready and waiting to play a part in the the scene she’s crafting from the caverns of her mind. Moments before she had thrown a fit about not wanting put her play-dough away, shoving all of her fingers in her mouth and biting down hard in frustration. 

AND I’M BACK, WITH A FRIEND THIS TIME: INTRODUCING THE NEW BLOG NAME & DIRECTION!

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Without further ado, I’d like to introduce you to a good friend of mine – my new blogging partner Jennifer Podemski. Below is a video that we did (mostly) on the fly. Poke around the new layout – if you’re a previous friend of le petit reve, you’ll see some of the same and quite a bit of new. New categories, new breath, new life.

Jen is well familiar with being behind the camera – I however, am not. Which you will quickly discover, although we’ve been told that we have a good dynamic. The video is a lot longer than we intentioned and truth be told it’s been edited down. The ‘experts’ say that if we want to engage audiences new and old with blog videos, or vlogging as the official term apparently is…that we’re supposed to keep it short and sweet.

Clearly nothing short going on here. So please, tell us in the comments if you’d like to see more of the long or if you think we should pare things down a bit with our future vlogs; something of which we look forward to doing a lot more of! As we get more confident with letting the veil drop and converse as we would without a camera pointed in our direction…we’re hoping the content appeals to you as much as it does to us.

#RealMamaLife: There Is No Pause Button

Welcome to the 4th edition of Real Mama Life!  <<< (click there to learn more about how you can participate!)

Where we embrace the glory and humour in the chaos. Un-staged and imperfectly beautiful.’

Mother

#RealMamaLife: Weekend Wrap-up Pictorial

Welcome to the 2nd edition of Real Mama Life!  <<< (click there to learn more about how you can participate!)

Where we embrace the glory and humour in the chaos. Un-staged and imperfectly beautiful.’

Good things always beging with a great beer. I saved this juicy beauty all week in the fridge to savour come 5pm on Friday night…

Real Mama Life: Introducing a New Monday Blogger Link Up

If you’re looking for this week’s link-up, you can find it here!

Several variations of articles of this nature have been circulating the web these days and I have to say I somewhat agree… 

HBD My Girl…

Lady, you’ve been there for the birth of both of my children. You’ve sat by my side many a night while we laughed and we wept and shared all of the stories.

Even the ones I had never shared with anyone before.

You accept me as I am, knowing it all – seeing it all. You counsel, you drop everything, you are genuine.

You love my children like they were you own. You take care of my man as your own brother.

For these and so many more reasons – we are sisters. Bonded by that which we have in common. Us the broken, the mended, the loving and the fierce.

Oh what a beautiful and blessed day it was. The day you were born.

And Then There Was Me

Hello friends. Its been more than a while and all the things that I thought I wanted to do with this blog have changed.

So many changes.

Much to do with personal happenings and relationships in my life that I shouldn’t write about becasue, well, they are not only my stories to tell.

I’ve been thinking about starting an anonymous blog. For reals. My journal (for actual pen to paper writing), has been my cathartic weapon of choice , but it’s starting to feel as though I’m not holding it right. It’s not filling the gap, I’m yearning for something more.

It has been a few years now that a couple of close friends, who know all the stories… (and even then some they don’t, as I myself am just starting to figure them out) …and they keep telling me. Write them Selena. Use your gift, in the ways in which a traditional story-teller would. (Not a blogger.)

That last part I say to myself.

What am I looking for you may ask? Community. I have always found solace in community. There are others out there with me who struggle with the same sorts of things that I struggle with, there are those who have stories much like mine.

There are those out in the world who are ‘misfits’ just like me. I think I want to find them. Because whether some people may believe so or not, there is power, there is healing, there is regeneration to be had by using the power of you voice, of your pen – your keyboard…to share the stories that don’t shine. The ones that crumble and heave.

Because at the same time those stories are hope. They are strength. They are survival. They are me. While I may not be ashamed of who I am anymore, the whole of me – all of my stories don’t belong in public sphere with my face next to them. It definitely doesn’t feel right to talk or hint at them in this place anymore.

This is where I share the happy stories. The shiny ones of my children. Of my hobbies. Of my loves. All of the good and vastly wonderful parts of my life. Perhaps even the not-so-good and the undeniably hard parts of mothering. Those sorts of topics belong here.

Perhaps this explains why things have been silent here since before the New Year, and if vague blogging is what these first few paragraphs could be defined as – so be it. This is after all, my small corner in the universe. I’m struggling to define a new space here and define a space that is real, that is me.

So. I’m not going to talk about this anonymous blog thing again and if it happens – it happens. It will be my way of delving into chapters and who knows – perhaps one day it will become a book, when times are different and more stories will be okay to share. Memoirs take decades to write. Having a private blog, for me – seems like a good way to start the process.

As for here…gosh. I’m thinking of a white slate. Starting fresh. Stories and pictures that my children can look back on and know how much they were loved. The recipes and DIY projects that come easily to me. An editor of mine recently told me, just share what you’re good at. Screw what anyone else thinks or comparing yourself to others.

This must be my new mantra. I am all-too familiar with the soul sucking, dark-art of comparison. I’m a mom who on most days…most days, it’s all I can do but to love-on my kids. Make sure they’re clean, well-fed and nurtured. That my house isn’t in complete and manic disarray. To keep on top of the myriad of things it takes to run a house-hold and keep a family happy. For whatever reason, I feel like a failure if ‘that’s all’, I am able to muster.

It’s as though I need to be great multiple things in order to consider myself a worthwhile, intelligent, contributing human being. A person who makes things happen. That used to be me. What I’m starting to realize is that I’m making a whole new wave of things happen that aren’t defined by the amount of career goals I meet or ideas founded; they are defined by the greatness in which I mother.

Love my partner. Love myself.

Perhaps that sounds cheesy – but right now? My biggest task at hand is finding peace within and exuding that grace to bestow upon my loved ones. To mire through our recent struggles and my own – and to come out on top. That is all. This is most important.

In the wake of the constant doing, that I used to attribute to being a natural part of who I am – there has been a break in the noise.

To present new truths amidst the old ones; that I can’t ignore anymore and which require my full attention.

Until the next. Thank-you as always – for reading.

Something More

Close to an infinite amount of patience.

That’s what I want.

Giv’er here.

I’m working on it. Slow and steady, in these cramped quarters.

Open the windows, let the cool breeze drift in and the palm trees elegant tinkle of rustling, waffle on in.

Accept the bad weather. Cuddle my teething sick baby. Speak calmly to my toddler, the embodiment of all that is testing.

It’s in these brief moments of  stillness that I’ll meditate. That I’ll pray.

For grace to come swimming back to me.

This post is sponsored by Disney Baby. I’ll be joining the Disney Baby blogging team next month, and look forward to sharing these kinds of stories (projects/ideas/etc) with you over there! Stay tuned for more details!

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