Almost, But Not Quite

I visited my friend Jaclyn last night. Or rather, I sat in silence for about an hour and a half on her couch last night. No, we were not watching the Olympics, though they were on. No. We sat there, staring, at the newest bundle of joy in our worlds.


Ocassionally, I would feel bad and every once in awhile would try to break the spell and start a conversation with her but always found myself drifting off, staring into the pools of dark, dark blue that are his eyes, so blue they're almost navy. I stared at this creation, this beautiful boy that was just two weeks ago in the belly of my friend sitting on the other couch and I marvelled at that.


I could not remember. I could not remember McK ever being so tiny, so light, so delicate. I could not remember what that felt like. And part of me was sad, that little mothering part who loves newborns and wee babes and tiny sleepers and fuzzy heads and that soft, soft, EVER so soft spot right at the nape of their neck. I miss that. Not enough to have another one, mind you. Almost, but not quite. :)

Compulsion

Why is it, that EVERY time someone comments or compliments me on what I have on or a piece of jewelery or something I have, I compulsively tell them where I got it. Especially if its at a place you wouldn't think. Or if it was super cheap. I NEED to tell them how much it was. Am I weird?

Take the other day. I had on my black boots. They look nice, stylish, like boots you could get at a fancy shoe store. Someone commented on them, "Great boots!". My reply? "Thanks! Giant Tiger!" Whats up with that? Why can't I just say Thanks! And then zip it?

Today, someone commented on my pants. "Thanks, they were $2.99!" Seriously? I just told you I paid less for my pants than for a Big Mac? Why do I feel the need to do this? Is it because I'm not a showy person, I'm not flashy or fancy in any way shape or form so I justify any new purchases with the fact that I didn't pay that much for them? I do love the fact that I always find a good bargain and rarely pay full price for much but why the need to tell the world about my incredible savings?

How to Keep a 6 Year Old Busy for an Hour

The One Where the Videographer Bites It

End of the Trail. Start of the Rapids.

A Walk in the Woods

Yesterday we went to the Whiteshell. It felt like we hadn't been there forever. And yet, once we started walking, I remembered every turn, every sight, every part of the trail that let me know how far there was to go or how far we had already gone.

I could hear the wind. I heard it in the treetops dancing, whispering secrets, telling tales. "Just look at these three", it must have said up there, "Walking in the woods on a winters day. Searching for that spot where they won't feel us. No wind, only sun."

We found it. That spot with no wind, only sun. On a cold, cold winters day. In the middle of the woods. By a rushing river. Its always out there. Sometimes you just need to take a walk in the woods on a winters day to find it.

Pine Point. Valentines Day. Love. Perfect.

Our Trip Down

One Tired Kitty

On the drive home after being in the sun and wind and snow for four hours. Shes a tobogganing fiend.

A Little Breath of Fresh Air

Today we went to Birds Hill Park and played outside. Top of the hill? Windswept and chilly. In the trees making a fire? Cool but calm. On the south side of the trees? Virtual tanning bed. That is where we made ourselves at home. Sitting in the snow, the sun beating down with a thousand watts, hearing the wind on the other side but not having to invite it to our party. It was perfect.