I've been giving some thought about the countless number of charities that are out there and why they matter and why I joined the Bust a Move event in Edmonton on March 23rd in the first place.
I mean, obviously, I want to dance and groove and workout with Richard Simmons...like, who wouldn't? But more importantly, here's the real reason why:
I want to share with you a recent letter I sent to many family members and friends and Facebook friends. I don't expect everyone (or even half) of the people to respond. I do, however, simply intend to at least put out there WHY we're doing what we're doing. Here's my take on it...I'm sure the other girls and their moms and aunts and sisters and daughters would all agree...
" Hi Family & Friends!
As you probably know from my non-stop posts on Facebook, my friends and I are taking part in a very important fundraiser for the Alberta Cancer Foundation and Edmonton's Cross Cancer Institute.
I'd bet all the money we've raised so far that everyone, in some way or another, has known someone that has been affected by cancer. I also know there's lots of people always asking for money and donations and whatnot. That said, we're getting close to our deadline and we've only reached about half of our goal. Because of that, I just wanted to share with you how important this is to us and to ask for any support you can offer.
(We are also in the process of putting together one final big raffle incentive for people as well so if you have anything to give OR know of any companies willing to donate any gifts in kind OR even have any cans and bottles you're willing to part with, please let me know.)
I'll be the first to admit that I always thought it seemed like breast cancer was the top disease being researched and was constantly in the "limelight" in terms of fundraising events and it [truthfully] used to annoy me. I felt that less attention was being put towards illnesses that affected those closest to me and I was slighted...I'm not gonna lie. I've come to trust though that the REASON it's in the forefront is because we are SO close to finding a cure that people don't want to give up.
So, if there's anyway I can help to prevent myself or my Joleigh or any of my friends and their little girls from having to worry about this blasted disease in the future, I will do just that and I will apologize now for harassing you all.
Thank you for your continued support, if you would like to give to us, please contact me or do so online at www.albertacancer.ca/Besties4Boobies "
So there it is. This is why we move. This is why we harass you and beg for money and collect dirty cans and bottles and scour for gifts and give of ourselves and our time and our love...because the future of our moms and aunts and sisters and daughters depend on it.
Peace & Health,
Jen
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
2.11.2013
2.05.2013
Fluorescent Pencils, A Twenty Dollar Bill and My Faith in Humanity Restored
I often say its the "little things" in life that end up having the most profound effect on me. Thinking back on my life up until now, major memories that play out in my mind usually weren't that "major".
I mean, yeah, of course the day I married my honest-to-goodness best friend stands out. And of course the days my children came into this world will forever be earth-shattering, life-altering, mind-blowing days of my existence and by far, the very best moments of my life.
But...
Many moments...very ordinary, seemingly trivial moments...also make my top ten list of moments that make my heart skip a beat.
One memory that sits in the back of my mind, and has since I was a small girl, is a day when the neighbourhood kids and I were all loading up at my neighbour's house to head to Gregoire Lake for a late afternoon of swimming, hot dogs and running from fish flies.
Anyone who knows me, knows that I've always been a bit of an introvert and even then, at the age of around 9 or 10, I never felt fully comfortable in crowds of more than 3-4 people.
I remember my Dad was working night shifts. He was just waking up for the day and came out in the afternoon sun to wish us farewell on our trip to the beach (and to give me a little present). The night before, the company he worked for were giving away these colorful, fluorescent pencils with their logo imprinted on the side. I know, big deal compared to all the iPads and jackets and big name "recognition" gifts the guys at site complain about now, right? Well, my Dad wanted to make sure he gave me a couple of those pencils before we headed out as he knew I would love them and he was excited that he snagged a couple of extras just for me.
Yes, I am a little bit of a nerd at heart. I'll admit that new stationery excites me. I can also admit that I care far too much about what others think of me. For many years, that day with my Dad bothered me...not because I got awesome new pencils (because THAT rocked) but because I specifically remember none of the other kids being as excited about "stupid pencils" as I was. As I've grown older, however, I've learned to appreciate how absolutely amazing that moment was and to be thankful that I have such an amazing Dad who really just "knew" me...ya know?
Fast forward twenty years and the place I call home has, quite honestly, been wearing on me. A couple of years ago, my Mom and Dad moved out of town. Years before that, most of my Aunts and Uncles and my Grandma did, too. Feeling like anyone was around who really "knew me" anymore was a slim chance. My spirit in this community and that "warm and fuzzy" feeling I used to get when I would drive down Beaconhill on return from an out of town trip, with the lights of the city sparkling and that sense of calm and peace...
...were pretty much gone.
Until I received an email from a random gentleman named Mickey. He was replying to a Kijiji ad I posted looking for donations of cans and bottles for a fundraiser a couple of girlfriends and I are participating in.
He emailed to tell me that he had a couple of bags of recycling and, while it wasn't much, I was more than welcome to take them and use the money towards our goal. I took him up on his offer and so, address in hand, I set forth with directions to the bag of empties that would be on his front porch since he was at work.
I feel I should validate all of this by explaining to you the complete cynicism that ran through my head while I was driving to his house. The google maps on my phone basically pointed to a general area around a popular gas station in Timberlea. My immediate thoughts as I was in the turning lane were, "What if he just gave me the address to a dumpster behind the gas station?" "What if this isn't a house address at all and I'm just a fool?"
I actually thought this...
Until I arrived at his real-life house and could see a couple of recycling bags on the step. I walked up and noticed a piece of white paper folded inside a zip-loc and tied to the handle of one.
When I returned to my car, that warm fuzzy feeling I had been missing for quite some time, was back in an instant and immediately my heart was warmed.
I don't know you, Mickey, but I know you're a decent man who single-handedly restored my wavering faith in humanity this past few months. So thank you.
If you're interested in helping our team, Besties4Boobies, please email me! We are participating in "Bust a Move for Breast Health" in Edmonton, AB where we will shake and groove with the one and only, Richard Simmons, in hopes of raising much needed funds for the Cross Cancer Institute and the Alberta Cancer Foundation.
www.albertacancer.ca/Besties4Boobies
Peace & Health ~ Jen
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
I mean, yeah, of course the day I married my honest-to-goodness best friend stands out. And of course the days my children came into this world will forever be earth-shattering, life-altering, mind-blowing days of my existence and by far, the very best moments of my life.
But...
Many moments...very ordinary, seemingly trivial moments...also make my top ten list of moments that make my heart skip a beat.
One memory that sits in the back of my mind, and has since I was a small girl, is a day when the neighbourhood kids and I were all loading up at my neighbour's house to head to Gregoire Lake for a late afternoon of swimming, hot dogs and running from fish flies.
Anyone who knows me, knows that I've always been a bit of an introvert and even then, at the age of around 9 or 10, I never felt fully comfortable in crowds of more than 3-4 people.
I remember my Dad was working night shifts. He was just waking up for the day and came out in the afternoon sun to wish us farewell on our trip to the beach (and to give me a little present). The night before, the company he worked for were giving away these colorful, fluorescent pencils with their logo imprinted on the side. I know, big deal compared to all the iPads and jackets and big name "recognition" gifts the guys at site complain about now, right? Well, my Dad wanted to make sure he gave me a couple of those pencils before we headed out as he knew I would love them and he was excited that he snagged a couple of extras just for me.
Yes, I am a little bit of a nerd at heart. I'll admit that new stationery excites me. I can also admit that I care far too much about what others think of me. For many years, that day with my Dad bothered me...not because I got awesome new pencils (because THAT rocked) but because I specifically remember none of the other kids being as excited about "stupid pencils" as I was. As I've grown older, however, I've learned to appreciate how absolutely amazing that moment was and to be thankful that I have such an amazing Dad who really just "knew" me...ya know?
Fast forward twenty years and the place I call home has, quite honestly, been wearing on me. A couple of years ago, my Mom and Dad moved out of town. Years before that, most of my Aunts and Uncles and my Grandma did, too. Feeling like anyone was around who really "knew me" anymore was a slim chance. My spirit in this community and that "warm and fuzzy" feeling I used to get when I would drive down Beaconhill on return from an out of town trip, with the lights of the city sparkling and that sense of calm and peace...
...were pretty much gone.
Until I received an email from a random gentleman named Mickey. He was replying to a Kijiji ad I posted looking for donations of cans and bottles for a fundraiser a couple of girlfriends and I are participating in.
He emailed to tell me that he had a couple of bags of recycling and, while it wasn't much, I was more than welcome to take them and use the money towards our goal. I took him up on his offer and so, address in hand, I set forth with directions to the bag of empties that would be on his front porch since he was at work.
I feel I should validate all of this by explaining to you the complete cynicism that ran through my head while I was driving to his house. The google maps on my phone basically pointed to a general area around a popular gas station in Timberlea. My immediate thoughts as I was in the turning lane were, "What if he just gave me the address to a dumpster behind the gas station?" "What if this isn't a house address at all and I'm just a fool?"
I actually thought this...
Until I arrived at his real-life house and could see a couple of recycling bags on the step. I walked up and noticed a piece of white paper folded inside a zip-loc and tied to the handle of one.
When I returned to my car, that warm fuzzy feeling I had been missing for quite some time, was back in an instant and immediately my heart was warmed.
I don't know you, Mickey, but I know you're a decent man who single-handedly restored my wavering faith in humanity this past few months. So thank you.
If you're interested in helping our team, Besties4Boobies, please email me! We are participating in "Bust a Move for Breast Health" in Edmonton, AB where we will shake and groove with the one and only, Richard Simmons, in hopes of raising much needed funds for the Cross Cancer Institute and the Alberta Cancer Foundation.
www.albertacancer.ca/Besties4Boobies
Peace & Health ~ Jen
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
1.14.2013
Before You Were a Mom
I used to have a job that saw me wear one too many hats (on only one salary, too, of course) but that seemed perfectly fine to me at the time. Maybe it was some egotistical need to feel...well...needed that kept me powering through double-booked appointments, never-ending voicemails and early morning alarm clocks all in the name of keeping "the man" happy.
Fast forward to motherhood and here I am in nearly the same circumstances...except incredibly not.
My "agenda" doesn't currently know the meaning of appointment times. I run on the clock of a toddler and an infant and a shift-working husband. My voicemails are iPhone reminders that I've set for myself to eat and drink water to keep up my milk supply. My alarm clock is a nursing baby who thankfully doesn't even come close to being as annoying as those blinking red numbers I used to despise so much....even at 3AM.
In the past, I forged through all of these things without a second thought or a blink of an eye. I was active in my community and busy as hell but I was having a lot of fun connecting with people and feeling like I had a purpose.
I know I still have purpose. In fact, I have the most important job in the entire world right now and I AM needed more than I could ever imagine. So why, then, does it still feel like something's missing?
Is it because I'm not getting a paycheck? Is it because MY new-mommy responsibilities are just the same as everybody else's new-mommy responsibilities and no one really gives a crap? Or, is it because whenever I seem to reach out and connect with "like-minded mommies" in an effort to stay involved in my community, it just turns into a bitchfest about random mommy things, comparing and critiquing every other mommy in the battle of the mommy wars, and I end up leaving feeling all the more apathetic and unmotivated to connect to anyone other than those nearest and dearest to me?
Perhaps...and yes, most likely.
So how do I change that? Maybe I gotta take the focus off the "mommy" a little? Maybe I have to draw a line in the sand that says: Mommy...Over Here! JEN...Over There!
Maybe...but how?
How can one truly divide themselves? Do they have to? And would they really, truly want to?
In order to achieve that balance, what's gotta give?
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
Fast forward to motherhood and here I am in nearly the same circumstances...except incredibly not.
My "agenda" doesn't currently know the meaning of appointment times. I run on the clock of a toddler and an infant and a shift-working husband. My voicemails are iPhone reminders that I've set for myself to eat and drink water to keep up my milk supply. My alarm clock is a nursing baby who thankfully doesn't even come close to being as annoying as those blinking red numbers I used to despise so much....even at 3AM.
In the past, I forged through all of these things without a second thought or a blink of an eye. I was active in my community and busy as hell but I was having a lot of fun connecting with people and feeling like I had a purpose.
I know I still have purpose. In fact, I have the most important job in the entire world right now and I AM needed more than I could ever imagine. So why, then, does it still feel like something's missing?
Is it because I'm not getting a paycheck? Is it because MY new-mommy responsibilities are just the same as everybody else's new-mommy responsibilities and no one really gives a crap? Or, is it because whenever I seem to reach out and connect with "like-minded mommies" in an effort to stay involved in my community, it just turns into a bitchfest about random mommy things, comparing and critiquing every other mommy in the battle of the mommy wars, and I end up leaving feeling all the more apathetic and unmotivated to connect to anyone other than those nearest and dearest to me?
Perhaps...and yes, most likely.
So how do I change that? Maybe I gotta take the focus off the "mommy" a little? Maybe I have to draw a line in the sand that says: Mommy...Over Here! JEN...Over There!
Maybe...but how?
How can one truly divide themselves? Do they have to? And would they really, truly want to?
In order to achieve that balance, what's gotta give?
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
1.05.2013
Clutter
Thanks to The Joyful Mother for this one. The universe presented it to me at the most perfect time! :)
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
All you need is love...
If I could just get out of my head for a minute, I'm sure I could accomplish a whole heck of a lot. Call it "Mommy Burnout" or maybe it's just the time of year but it seems lately that as soon as I actually have a free minute to myself, all I end up doing is thinking and stressing about the million-and-one things I have to do and how I can create a better system for them all instead of just getting up off my butt and doing them.
Story.of.my.life.
So after yet another late night for the kiddos, Joleigh woke at 5:30 in the morning...overtired, hungry and just plain cranky. After reasoning enough with her to go back to sleep for a bit (and then nursing little bro back to sleep after he woke from all the commotion), there I was: head uncomfortably on my pillow, mind racing and not a wink of sleep in sight.
"Screw this!" I finally said to myself and got up out of bed to retreat to our living-room-turned-yoga/quiet room (still haven't come up with a proper name for it).
I zeroed in on my yoga mat in the complete darkness of the morning and just sat. "Ok, brain, let's get our shit sorted out right now so I can move on with life! Deal?"
Sitting wasn't really doing it for me so I rested flat on my back and stretched my arms and legs as long as I could. I could feel months worth of sore, tight, nursing shoulders screaming at me as I did this. I would've screamed back if I wasn't worried about waking the babies. I could feel every connection in my hips and pelvis terribly attempting to re-align themselves...probably something that still hasn't actually happened since they passed a 9-pound turkey through them just four short months ago.
"I am in rough shape," I thought to myself.
Okay, so in an attempt to minimize all the extra and unnecessary *things* in my life, I seemed to have done nothing more than take on too many UN-meaningful *projects* in some futile quest to become everything I thought would make me happy.
And by happy, I mean rich.
And by rich, I mean able to contribute some small amount to the bills my husband so happily works so hard to pay.
This all came to me whilst laying on that yoga mat this morning...and while I still haven't actually shut off my brain yet, I at least have real direction...and resolve.
It's already been a year since I left my corporate job to stay home with my daughter and do what really made me happy. What I, for the first time in my life, truly thought was my "calling". To be a doula; to give women support and encouragement to be the fierce mama bears they naturally are; and to be a good mom.
Somehow I lost that along the way...and adding a second child in with my constant search of certificates and designations and, quite frankly, money....I think I lost a bit of my sanity, too.
I know that money does not equal success. But ya gotta eat to live. I'm just thankful that I do have such a supportive husband who loves his job and has been so patient with me while I find my way.
I used to always say, "All you need is love." And I do still believe that...to a certain point. Realistically, yes, we do need more than just love. We do need food and shelter and other basic necessities in order to live but as I sat in the darkness of my no-name room in the wee hours of this morning, this little "sign" that was shining on my wall from my Scentsy burner reminded me that no matter what you do, LOVING what you do and who you are is the most important thing.
So now it's time for me to go back to my Suncor and Leadership Wood Buffalo days, break out my 7 Habits book and "Put First Things First".
Project: Sort My "Big Rocks" is now in effect and I very much look forward to letting go of so many things that are contributing to the madness that is Mommy Burnout.
Until next time...
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
Story.of.my.life.
So after yet another late night for the kiddos, Joleigh woke at 5:30 in the morning...overtired, hungry and just plain cranky. After reasoning enough with her to go back to sleep for a bit (and then nursing little bro back to sleep after he woke from all the commotion), there I was: head uncomfortably on my pillow, mind racing and not a wink of sleep in sight.
"Screw this!" I finally said to myself and got up out of bed to retreat to our living-room-turned-yoga/quiet room (still haven't come up with a proper name for it).
I zeroed in on my yoga mat in the complete darkness of the morning and just sat. "Ok, brain, let's get our shit sorted out right now so I can move on with life! Deal?"
Sitting wasn't really doing it for me so I rested flat on my back and stretched my arms and legs as long as I could. I could feel months worth of sore, tight, nursing shoulders screaming at me as I did this. I would've screamed back if I wasn't worried about waking the babies. I could feel every connection in my hips and pelvis terribly attempting to re-align themselves...probably something that still hasn't actually happened since they passed a 9-pound turkey through them just four short months ago.
"I am in rough shape," I thought to myself.
Okay, so in an attempt to minimize all the extra and unnecessary *things* in my life, I seemed to have done nothing more than take on too many UN-meaningful *projects* in some futile quest to become everything I thought would make me happy.
And by happy, I mean rich.
And by rich, I mean able to contribute some small amount to the bills my husband so happily works so hard to pay.
This all came to me whilst laying on that yoga mat this morning...and while I still haven't actually shut off my brain yet, I at least have real direction...and resolve.
It's already been a year since I left my corporate job to stay home with my daughter and do what really made me happy. What I, for the first time in my life, truly thought was my "calling". To be a doula; to give women support and encouragement to be the fierce mama bears they naturally are; and to be a good mom.
Somehow I lost that along the way...and adding a second child in with my constant search of certificates and designations and, quite frankly, money....I think I lost a bit of my sanity, too.
I know that money does not equal success. But ya gotta eat to live. I'm just thankful that I do have such a supportive husband who loves his job and has been so patient with me while I find my way.
I used to always say, "All you need is love." And I do still believe that...to a certain point. Realistically, yes, we do need more than just love. We do need food and shelter and other basic necessities in order to live but as I sat in the darkness of my no-name room in the wee hours of this morning, this little "sign" that was shining on my wall from my Scentsy burner reminded me that no matter what you do, LOVING what you do and who you are is the most important thing.
So now it's time for me to go back to my Suncor and Leadership Wood Buffalo days, break out my 7 Habits book and "Put First Things First".
Project: Sort My "Big Rocks" is now in effect and I very much look forward to letting go of so many things that are contributing to the madness that is Mommy Burnout.
Until next time...
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
12.21.2012
21
The number 7 and the number 21 have always had a very significant impact on my life. Call it coincidence or call it fate, I don't know, but anyone who loves numbers (and a little bit of craziness) can appreciate this.
I was born on the 7th day of the month and Chris was born on the 21st. We started dating on the 21st of June, married on the 21st of July and if you add up all the letters in his name, my married name AND my maiden name, guess what you get? Yep...21!
Joleigh was born on the 7th of the month as well. And I was sure as sure could be that if Carson ended up being born on the 21st of the month, that I would probably have to submit this info to some crazy scientists somewhere so they could explain the trend to me. He ended up being born on the 25th though so it didn't work out quite the way I thought it would, however, the numerology nut in me did find it interesting that, at the very least, the two numbers in the day he was born (25), added up to 7...ok, but that's just me being weird. :)
ANYwho...while he may be the odd man out, Carson does still have a special correlation with the number 21 in our family.
Sadly, two years ago today on December 21, our family suffered a tremendous loss when we said goodbye to one of the most caring, generous and kind-hearted souls you could meet. At just 33 years young, we said goodbye to our dear cousin Kurt. One of the last times I had seen him was when I was pregnant with Joleigh. He knew my office was at the River City Center so he popped in one afternoon to say hi and drop me off a [decaf] double-double from Tim Hortons. "I bought you a muffin, too" he said. "Cuz you need to take care of that little cousin of mine in your belly." Then he gave me a big hug and went off on his merry way. I hadn't seen him for months (which wasn't unusual) and sadly, did not hear any news of him until I found out about his passing.
Fast forward to exactly one short year later and I'm staring at a home pregnancy test that just showed me two lines and I feel like I'm going to faint. Could it really be?! But we weren't really trying?! Oh my GAWD I'm going to be a mom to "2 under 2"! After the dust settled and the reality of our newest circumstance kicked in, I realized that it was Decemberi 21st - a very special day in our hearts. So while Carson may not have been born on the 21st, he clearly has a connection to that number and to the cousin he'll never meet on this human earth that I think only I g can truly appreciate.
Today is a bittersweet day for me. And while the rest of the world is going on about the end of earth as we know it, I'm keeping my thoughts in check and being as "minimal" as possible by simply reliving the memories!
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I was born on the 7th day of the month and Chris was born on the 21st. We started dating on the 21st of June, married on the 21st of July and if you add up all the letters in his name, my married name AND my maiden name, guess what you get? Yep...21!
Joleigh was born on the 7th of the month as well. And I was sure as sure could be that if Carson ended up being born on the 21st of the month, that I would probably have to submit this info to some crazy scientists somewhere so they could explain the trend to me. He ended up being born on the 25th though so it didn't work out quite the way I thought it would, however, the numerology nut in me did find it interesting that, at the very least, the two numbers in the day he was born (25), added up to 7...ok, but that's just me being weird. :)
ANYwho...while he may be the odd man out, Carson does still have a special correlation with the number 21 in our family.
Sadly, two years ago today on December 21, our family suffered a tremendous loss when we said goodbye to one of the most caring, generous and kind-hearted souls you could meet. At just 33 years young, we said goodbye to our dear cousin Kurt. One of the last times I had seen him was when I was pregnant with Joleigh. He knew my office was at the River City Center so he popped in one afternoon to say hi and drop me off a [decaf] double-double from Tim Hortons. "I bought you a muffin, too" he said. "Cuz you need to take care of that little cousin of mine in your belly." Then he gave me a big hug and went off on his merry way. I hadn't seen him for months (which wasn't unusual) and sadly, did not hear any news of him until I found out about his passing.
Fast forward to exactly one short year later and I'm staring at a home pregnancy test that just showed me two lines and I feel like I'm going to faint. Could it really be?! But we weren't really trying?! Oh my GAWD I'm going to be a mom to "2 under 2"! After the dust settled and the reality of our newest circumstance kicked in, I realized that it was Decemberi 21st - a very special day in our hearts. So while Carson may not have been born on the 21st, he clearly has a connection to that number and to the cousin he'll never meet on this human earth that I think only I g can truly appreciate.
Today is a bittersweet day for me. And while the rest of the world is going on about the end of earth as we know it, I'm keeping my thoughts in check and being as "minimal" as possible by simply reliving the memories!
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
12.15.2012
A letter to my baby...
It's nearly midnight on December 14th and I'm cuddling with you on the couch. You just finished nursing and you're passed out cold on my chest. The only light in the living room right now is from the Christmas tree and I seriously can't fathom that in just 10 short days, you will be exactly four months old.
Four months may not seem like a long time to you...and it's not. And it most definitely has flown by for me...which is why I wanted to write you this letter.
Sometimes the world works in mysterious ways and things happen that we cannot control nor can we understand. I won't go in to details because they don't matter but something like that happened today. It's hit home for a lot of people I know...especially those with young kids. And while your Daddy and Big Sis are tucked tightly in bed, I am here on this couch with you. Breathing in your sweet baby smell that keeps fading and fading. Listening to nothing but your quiet breaths by my ear. Telling myself that I should go throw those diapers in the dryer and that we should get to bed but I don't want to move...not one inch.
You have brought such a wholeness to our lives and I hope you know, Carson, how much you are truly loved. I will be the first to admit that there are not nearly as many pictures of you as there is of your sister. This is not because we love her more...it is simply because we are so busy LIVING our lives with you now in it that we've let that important task slip. I promise to take more pictures...starting today. And I hope when you look back at baby books and photo albums that you don't feel slighted or any less loved than what you are. I promise, you are very loved.
Your sister surprises me with how much she loves you. She is only two years old but always wants to hold you and kiss you and make you smile.
Your Daddy...well, he has a sparkle in his eye when he looks at you that very few people have produced before...I saw it on our wedding day and I see it every time he looks at your sister, too.
And I love you. Oh how can I even begin to describe how much I love you. So incredibly much. You came into our lives so powerfully and peacefully. You allowed me the opportunity to trust my strength as a woman and you have made caring for you and nourishing you so incredibly effortless. We just work so well together, you and I, and I love that too.
So thank you little man for being such an amazing blessing in our lives. As I sit here with you quietly sleeping on my chest, I am trying my absolute hardest to absorb all that is you in this very moment. Because I know that all too soon you will be running and jumping and getting into trouble with your sis and these sacred, peaceful moments (that I shared with her, too) will be but a memory in my mind and my heart. A memory that no one will truly ever understand until they become a parent. A memory that you may not consciously remember but I hope is forever ingrained into your heart and soul as it is mine.
My love to you, sweet baby.
~ Jen ~
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
Four months may not seem like a long time to you...and it's not. And it most definitely has flown by for me...which is why I wanted to write you this letter.
Sometimes the world works in mysterious ways and things happen that we cannot control nor can we understand. I won't go in to details because they don't matter but something like that happened today. It's hit home for a lot of people I know...especially those with young kids. And while your Daddy and Big Sis are tucked tightly in bed, I am here on this couch with you. Breathing in your sweet baby smell that keeps fading and fading. Listening to nothing but your quiet breaths by my ear. Telling myself that I should go throw those diapers in the dryer and that we should get to bed but I don't want to move...not one inch.
You have brought such a wholeness to our lives and I hope you know, Carson, how much you are truly loved. I will be the first to admit that there are not nearly as many pictures of you as there is of your sister. This is not because we love her more...it is simply because we are so busy LIVING our lives with you now in it that we've let that important task slip. I promise to take more pictures...starting today. And I hope when you look back at baby books and photo albums that you don't feel slighted or any less loved than what you are. I promise, you are very loved.
Your sister surprises me with how much she loves you. She is only two years old but always wants to hold you and kiss you and make you smile.
Your Daddy...well, he has a sparkle in his eye when he looks at you that very few people have produced before...I saw it on our wedding day and I see it every time he looks at your sister, too.
And I love you. Oh how can I even begin to describe how much I love you. So incredibly much. You came into our lives so powerfully and peacefully. You allowed me the opportunity to trust my strength as a woman and you have made caring for you and nourishing you so incredibly effortless. We just work so well together, you and I, and I love that too.
So thank you little man for being such an amazing blessing in our lives. As I sit here with you quietly sleeping on my chest, I am trying my absolute hardest to absorb all that is you in this very moment. Because I know that all too soon you will be running and jumping and getting into trouble with your sis and these sacred, peaceful moments (that I shared with her, too) will be but a memory in my mind and my heart. A memory that no one will truly ever understand until they become a parent. A memory that you may not consciously remember but I hope is forever ingrained into your heart and soul as it is mine.
My love to you, sweet baby.
~ Jen ~
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
3.13.2012
Understanding Hard Times and Making the Most of Them...
Has it seriously been a week since I last posted?! In my quest to prepare for holidays and sell all of my unneeded things, time has slipped away from me...not good.
I read a really interesting article last week that struck a chord with me. It's title: "Income Inequality And The Oil Sands: Fort McMurray's Rich 20-Somethings Find Hard Times Hard To Understand". I'm glad that I can still call myself a "20-something" because I feel the need to add to the message that this article is giving.
I am one of the "young people living in Alberta's northern wilderness" but I can tell you that just because I was born here, does NOT mean I've never had to worry about economic uncertainty. I feel like the story here is once again painting a picture of "streets paved with gold" and it gives an unrealistic view of the opportunities our community holds. Opportunities are abound, most definitely, but that doesn't mean you should pack up your only belongings with a one-way ticket and expect to start making $150K a year.
I can also tell you that I do not find hard times hard to understand. For those of us who grew up here in the 80's, it was not always rainbows and lollipops in terms of the job market and the average family income. I remember a time growing up when Suncor was on strike, people were being laid off left, right and centre and people were desperate for work. My mom was a letter carrier for Canada Post and my dad drove a taxi just to make ends meet. When money seems like it's falling from the sky, people are quick to forget that with every boom, there could be a bust...especially if they don't plan well.
I believe that having these "hard times" have benefitted me in many ways and I think it's important that we don't downplay the uncertainty that any person faces when it comes to the economy and our general financial health. I've done a lot of soul searching in these last few weeks as I strive to let go of so many of the material things that this "it could never happen to me" mentality has provided and I must say that I'm sometimes disgusted with just how much needless stuff has accumulated.
I've been able to sell nearly everything I no longer need on various "Fort McMurray Buy & Sell" pages on Facebook or the fail-proof Kijiji...within record time, too! I'm not going to lie, there's nothing like making some extra cash and freeing space at the same time but I can't help but wonder what all the other people in this town are going to do with that stuff? Who really needs their own chocolate fountain? Who really needs four digital cable boxes? Not I. Interestingly enough, I came across a post the other day in one of those Facebook pages and I offered my blog as an "outreach" to those who are going through the same thing I am. You can see by the question posed that I am definitely not the only one concerned about the increasing amount of stuff that was beginning to take over my life.
My only hope is that others will see the light and spend their hard-earned money and TIME on valuable things. "Things" they can truly be thankful for...like an ice-cream date with their four year old, a day of swimming at the waterpark or a grocery trip that ends with items being dropped off at the Food Bank instead of the depths of a pantry's uninhabited corners.
Up Next: Rex Murphy's Coming to Town!
I read a really interesting article last week that struck a chord with me. It's title: "Income Inequality And The Oil Sands: Fort McMurray's Rich 20-Somethings Find Hard Times Hard To Understand". I'm glad that I can still call myself a "20-something" because I feel the need to add to the message that this article is giving.
I am one of the "young people living in Alberta's northern wilderness" but I can tell you that just because I was born here, does NOT mean I've never had to worry about economic uncertainty. I feel like the story here is once again painting a picture of "streets paved with gold" and it gives an unrealistic view of the opportunities our community holds. Opportunities are abound, most definitely, but that doesn't mean you should pack up your only belongings with a one-way ticket and expect to start making $150K a year.
I can also tell you that I do not find hard times hard to understand. For those of us who grew up here in the 80's, it was not always rainbows and lollipops in terms of the job market and the average family income. I remember a time growing up when Suncor was on strike, people were being laid off left, right and centre and people were desperate for work. My mom was a letter carrier for Canada Post and my dad drove a taxi just to make ends meet. When money seems like it's falling from the sky, people are quick to forget that with every boom, there could be a bust...especially if they don't plan well.
I believe that having these "hard times" have benefitted me in many ways and I think it's important that we don't downplay the uncertainty that any person faces when it comes to the economy and our general financial health. I've done a lot of soul searching in these last few weeks as I strive to let go of so many of the material things that this "it could never happen to me" mentality has provided and I must say that I'm sometimes disgusted with just how much needless stuff has accumulated.
I've been able to sell nearly everything I no longer need on various "Fort McMurray Buy & Sell" pages on Facebook or the fail-proof Kijiji...within record time, too! I'm not going to lie, there's nothing like making some extra cash and freeing space at the same time but I can't help but wonder what all the other people in this town are going to do with that stuff? Who really needs their own chocolate fountain? Who really needs four digital cable boxes? Not I. Interestingly enough, I came across a post the other day in one of those Facebook pages and I offered my blog as an "outreach" to those who are going through the same thing I am. You can see by the question posed that I am definitely not the only one concerned about the increasing amount of stuff that was beginning to take over my life.
My only hope is that others will see the light and spend their hard-earned money and TIME on valuable things. "Things" they can truly be thankful for...like an ice-cream date with their four year old, a day of swimming at the waterpark or a grocery trip that ends with items being dropped off at the Food Bank instead of the depths of a pantry's uninhabited corners.
Up Next: Rex Murphy's Coming to Town!
3.06.2012
Learning to Live with Less Stuff & Love the Process!
I received the following post from the Minimalist Mom and it really hit home for me. I'll be the first to admit that attempting to live a minimalist lifestyle in what seems to be one of the wealthier cities in Canada, proves to be a challenge in more ways than one.
It's awfully hard to keep picking away at purging your things and "downsizing" your material posessions when it feels like everyone is racing to keep up with Mr. and Mrs. Jones. Having instant access into the lives of others (via Facebook and Twitter) makes it even easier to see what others are doing, where they're going and what they're buying...constantly. It's enough to make a person crazy...but only if I let it.
The post helped me the most by affirming the reasons why I've decided to venture down this road and included helpful tips to remember when faced with pangs of envy over a friend's awesome new kitchen reno or their latest and greatest vacation.
Live Your Values
This reminder is so incredibly important that I can't even begin to describe how much of an impact it makes in terms of remembering why I'm choosing this lifestyle and what I hope to gain from it. Chris and I had a conversation while traveling down the highway the other day about choosing to only spend money on things that aligned with our passions. For instance, he is a huge hockey fanatic and his collection of Pittsburgh Penguins Memorabilia is noteworthy. To me, that's okay because he's passionate about it and some may think he goes overboard but they're the same people that would drop thousands on designer clothes where we would not. To each their own, I say.
What doesn't fit with our values is going shopping and buying things just because: a) it was on sale, b) it was neat or cool or handy or c) because we had money burning in our pocket that most likely could have been put towards RRSP's or some other money-SAVING strategy.
Envy is a Choice
Why yes...yes it is. A choice that is sometimes naturally thrust upon you as you skim through your news feed each morning. Okay, maybe I'm exaggerating a little because soon all of you will think I'm some crazy loon who harbours nothing but hate for my Facebook friends. That is simply not so. It can be difficult at times though when you're constantly bombarded with people inadvertently "bragging" about what happened to them that day and consequently, what did not happen to you. Let's be honest now...on any given day, please tell me you can't count on at least one hand a status update or tweet that boasts how quickly and awesomely someone's kid learned to roll, crawl, walk, poop, etc. I admit, I do it too...I think that the beauty and the curse of such social media. Or how about the posts about someone's new digs...or new ride...or new something... When continuously plagued with such magnificent propaganda, it's hard not to get into comparative mode...because everyone's life is just.so.perfect. Or is it?
Stuff Does Not = Contentment
Contentment. A state of happiness and satisfaction. I like this word. And I think this is something I'm going to pursue further. How does one get to be in this state on a semi-permanent basis? Oprah would tell you to keep a gratitude journal. Buddha would tell you to conquer yourself than to win a thousand battles. And I just used Oprah and Buddha in the same paragraph. Wow, she really is amazing isn't she?
Anyway, I'm not sure where this revelation will take me but I do know this: I plan to take more time (immediately) to count my blessings every day and be truly thankful for what I do have. For behind closed doors, everyone's perfect life is likely not so and better to be content with all that I know I have than to wish for something I may not actually want.
Up Next: What Am I Thankful For? (Yeah, I'm dropping the project numbers...)
It's awfully hard to keep picking away at purging your things and "downsizing" your material posessions when it feels like everyone is racing to keep up with Mr. and Mrs. Jones. Having instant access into the lives of others (via Facebook and Twitter) makes it even easier to see what others are doing, where they're going and what they're buying...constantly. It's enough to make a person crazy...but only if I let it.
The post helped me the most by affirming the reasons why I've decided to venture down this road and included helpful tips to remember when faced with pangs of envy over a friend's awesome new kitchen reno or their latest and greatest vacation.
Live Your Values
This reminder is so incredibly important that I can't even begin to describe how much of an impact it makes in terms of remembering why I'm choosing this lifestyle and what I hope to gain from it. Chris and I had a conversation while traveling down the highway the other day about choosing to only spend money on things that aligned with our passions. For instance, he is a huge hockey fanatic and his collection of Pittsburgh Penguins Memorabilia is noteworthy. To me, that's okay because he's passionate about it and some may think he goes overboard but they're the same people that would drop thousands on designer clothes where we would not. To each their own, I say.
What doesn't fit with our values is going shopping and buying things just because: a) it was on sale, b) it was neat or cool or handy or c) because we had money burning in our pocket that most likely could have been put towards RRSP's or some other money-SAVING strategy.
Envy is a Choice
Why yes...yes it is. A choice that is sometimes naturally thrust upon you as you skim through your news feed each morning. Okay, maybe I'm exaggerating a little because soon all of you will think I'm some crazy loon who harbours nothing but hate for my Facebook friends. That is simply not so. It can be difficult at times though when you're constantly bombarded with people inadvertently "bragging" about what happened to them that day and consequently, what did not happen to you. Let's be honest now...on any given day, please tell me you can't count on at least one hand a status update or tweet that boasts how quickly and awesomely someone's kid learned to roll, crawl, walk, poop, etc. I admit, I do it too...I think that the beauty and the curse of such social media. Or how about the posts about someone's new digs...or new ride...or new something... When continuously plagued with such magnificent propaganda, it's hard not to get into comparative mode...because everyone's life is just.so.perfect. Or is it?
Stuff Does Not = Contentment
Contentment. A state of happiness and satisfaction. I like this word. And I think this is something I'm going to pursue further. How does one get to be in this state on a semi-permanent basis? Oprah would tell you to keep a gratitude journal. Buddha would tell you to conquer yourself than to win a thousand battles. And I just used Oprah and Buddha in the same paragraph. Wow, she really is amazing isn't she?
Anyway, I'm not sure where this revelation will take me but I do know this: I plan to take more time (immediately) to count my blessings every day and be truly thankful for what I do have. For behind closed doors, everyone's perfect life is likely not so and better to be content with all that I know I have than to wish for something I may not actually want.
Up Next: What Am I Thankful For? (Yeah, I'm dropping the project numbers...)
2.29.2012
When Will We Reach the Top?
So it's nearly midnight and I can't seem to turn off my mind. So what do I do? Head out to the computer and start "writing"...not entirely sure that's a good idea but we'll see how this goes...
In my quest to reach the top of Mount Laundry, I've realized today what a daunting task I've set out for myself. I feel like I've finally made it about halfway but as I stare back at base camp, I can't help but feel like the higher I go, the more difficult it's going to get.
You see, I'm doing much more than washing, drying and folding clothes. Who really blogs about that anyway? Okay, well, maybe I would but right now I'm not. In addition to staring blankly at what could literally be hundreds of articles of clothing, I'm also purging and sorting and organizing so I can forever free myself of the black hole of chaos that has become my basement laundry room. How can three people have so many clothes? Especially considering a good portion of them never get worn and many of them don't even fit. Hmmm....
Why I'm also finding this project so challenging is because, truthfully, I'm tackling much more than a laundry problem. In my quest for personal enlightenment, I've been trying to dig deeper into the reason why we have so much bloody stuff in the first place and some of the reasons I'm coming up with seem a little unsettling to me.
What is really missing in our lives that creates this incessant need to purchase more things? I'm only brainstorming right now but I'm going to throw out the possibility of boredom, greed, jealousy, competition, unhappiness, loneliness, plain stupidity? I'm not quite sure the real reason yet but I do aim to find out eventually. Maybe it's a combination of many of those things?
No matter where you live, life can become really lonely if you don't consistently reach out to those around you and confirm who and what really matters. One day it could feel like all you have is your washer and dryer to keep you company and surely to God we can say that clothing really does not matter that much. But what happens though when those you're reaching out to do not reach back? Then what? Do you fill the void with things? And if so, how do you break that nasty spin cycle?
So I will reiterate, I'm most definitely tackling much more than a mountain of laundry here. And as I said, the further I get from base camp, the scarier the top is looking. But, nobody likes a coward so up we go. You can guarantee I will let you know when we've made it to the summit - and hopefully by then I'll have some more answers, too.
Up Next: Project Five - The Green-Eyed Monster in All of Us
In my quest to reach the top of Mount Laundry, I've realized today what a daunting task I've set out for myself. I feel like I've finally made it about halfway but as I stare back at base camp, I can't help but feel like the higher I go, the more difficult it's going to get.
You see, I'm doing much more than washing, drying and folding clothes. Who really blogs about that anyway? Okay, well, maybe I would but right now I'm not. In addition to staring blankly at what could literally be hundreds of articles of clothing, I'm also purging and sorting and organizing so I can forever free myself of the black hole of chaos that has become my basement laundry room. How can three people have so many clothes? Especially considering a good portion of them never get worn and many of them don't even fit. Hmmm....
Why I'm also finding this project so challenging is because, truthfully, I'm tackling much more than a laundry problem. In my quest for personal enlightenment, I've been trying to dig deeper into the reason why we have so much bloody stuff in the first place and some of the reasons I'm coming up with seem a little unsettling to me.
What is really missing in our lives that creates this incessant need to purchase more things? I'm only brainstorming right now but I'm going to throw out the possibility of boredom, greed, jealousy, competition, unhappiness, loneliness, plain stupidity? I'm not quite sure the real reason yet but I do aim to find out eventually. Maybe it's a combination of many of those things?
No matter where you live, life can become really lonely if you don't consistently reach out to those around you and confirm who and what really matters. One day it could feel like all you have is your washer and dryer to keep you company and surely to God we can say that clothing really does not matter that much. But what happens though when those you're reaching out to do not reach back? Then what? Do you fill the void with things? And if so, how do you break that nasty spin cycle?
So I will reiterate, I'm most definitely tackling much more than a mountain of laundry here. And as I said, the further I get from base camp, the scarier the top is looking. But, nobody likes a coward so up we go. You can guarantee I will let you know when we've made it to the summit - and hopefully by then I'll have some more answers, too.
Up Next: Project Five - The Green-Eyed Monster in All of Us
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