June 14, 2019



I've learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.

―maya angelou

June 2, 2019

documenting details.


The house smells of onions and garlic and spices. A pot of channa masala is simmering on the stove. It is the same recipe i cook every week and Leif always says the same thing: "Ewww, what's that smell mommy?! It stinks!"

Ah, maybe one day you'll like that smell, i say.

"Noooooo, it smells like POO POO!!"

He asks for a pear before bed and we plop down on the floor together next to the box of markers and a new colouring book. This is our new nighttime ritual. I flip through the book and tear out a page with a Protoceratops. I start to colour it pink. "That's beautiful, mommy!" he says. He choses a page and asks the name of his dinosaur. A Ty-ra-nno-sau-rus, i read. He digs in the box of markers and colours his dinosaur in stripes.

Oh i really love your rainbow dinosaur, i smile.

He takes a bite of his pear and asks "mommy, is it ok if i don't give this one to you? because i want to give it to Madame Isabelle because she is teaching us about les dinosaures."

That's really nice of you Leif. Madame Isabelle will love it.

The room is losing light so we decide to finish our colourings tomorrow.

He gets into bed, i tuck him under the covers tightly and we say our goodnights. I hold his face in my hands and cover him in kisses. We laugh.

Oh my gosh why are you SO cute?! i laugh and kiss him some more.

"I don't know whyyyyy, mommy! he laughs. I was just born this way!"

"Mommy, when i was born the sun shined and THEN I FARTED!!!"

We laugh hard.

I kiss him on the forehead one last time.

I walk down the stairs smiling to myself. The things he says sometimes,"when i was born the sun shined."

We never really talk about the day he was born and I wonder how i would describe it to him if he asked.

On the day you were born, i took the first real breath i had taken in a very long time and when i finally heard you cry out loud and saw the relief on your father's face, i knew you made it and i couldn't wait to take you home.

And, the sun shined.

Yes.

There was light, again.

May 12, 2019

mother's day


Liam. My firstborn. The boy who made me a mother.




April 6, 2019


Tonight, Leif is spending the night at his best friend's house. His first sleepover and the very
first time he sleeps at another house. As we were preparing his overnight bag, he told me "mommy,
i'm lucky!" and we really are. They are friends, but to us they are like family.

February 28, 2019


I washed the floors twice today, not knowing what to do with myself, really, my head is all
over the place, as is my heart.


January 24, 2019

the poet with his face in his hands


You want to cry aloud for your
mistakes. But to tell the truth the world
doesn’t need anymore of that sound.

So if you’re going to do it and can’t
stop yourself, if your pretty mouth can’t
hold it in, at least go by yourself across

the forty fields and the forty dark inclines
of rocks and water to the place where
the falls are flinging out their white sheets

like crazy, and there is a cave behind all that
jubilation and water fun and you can
stand there, under it, and roar all you

want and nothing will be disturbed; you can
drip with despair all afternoon and still,
on a green branch, its wings just lightly touched

by the passing foil of the water, the thrush,
puffing out its spotted breast, will sing
of the perfect, stone-hard beauty of everything.

—mary oliver