Recently, Margs came down with her first full fledged virus. You know, leaky nose, cough, fever, staying up all night because she couldn’t sleep bug – this is motherhood I thought to myself as I rocked her back to sleep for the 6th time that night. Turns out, baby girl was dealing with hand, foot and mouth disease and was incredibly uncomfortable because of sores in her mouth and under her feet. I looked at this tiny little girl and I remembered all those sleepless nights of her infancy and a twinge of guilt came over me. How many times did I wish time away? Countless times. How many times did I will time away and hope she’d age and grow out of her neediness? More times than I can count. This is motherhood isn’t it? When things are tough we tend to wish time away – hoping for times where baby needs us less so we can get our coveted sleep. Then, brief moments like rocking your sick child snap you back to reality and you realize that a time will come when they wont need us anymore. What then? I’ll miss those moments I’m sure. Motherhood is such…

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  Margsy turned 16 months old over the weekend! I just can’t wrap my head around this. She’s nearly 1.5 years old. Time just flies doesn’t it? I wrote a similar post honoring Margs’ 15 month birthday last month and had a lot of fun sharing a typical day with you fine folks so I figured I’d do it again. Like I mentioned last month, our days are pretty predictable around these parts. Sticking to a solid routine seems to work best for us so our days aren’t extraordinarily exciting. But, since last months installment was on a weekday I decided to base this one on a weekend. Sunday to be specific! 5:30 am – my alarm goes off and I get out of bed and head downstairs to put on a coffee. I listen to an anxiety podcast while I wait. I drink my morning coffee, listen to podcasts, check emails and answer blog comments. <—- my morning routine! 6:30 am – I jump in the shower and get ready for the day. I don’t feel like blow drying my hair so I put in some conditioner and let it air dry. (My hair is on the wavy side so…

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I think in some respects I thought hoped bringing Margs into the world would heal me. I mean, why wouldn’t it? We tried to bring a living child into this world for years before we were blessed to finally meet her. Her birth should have repaired those millions of broken pieces of my heart. But, it simply didn’t. I often tell people who are facing a fresh loss that they’ll adapt somehow and find a “new normal”. That “new normal” is different for everyone but once you get to that place, it’s essentially existing in a space of acceptance and continued living by simply putting one tiny foot in front of the other. My new normal does not mean I’m always okay ( I doubt I ever will be) nor does it mean I’ll ever understand what has happened. But, I have accepted that I’m powerless to change my past and that however tragic- this is what the universe decided to hand me. Parenting after loss is hard. I’m so incredibly grateful to have been blessed with the opportunity to even be facing these issues and I know all too well that there are loss-mommas out there who are still fighting to meet their rainbow and get the opportunity…

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So it happened, earlier than expected but, it happened. At play group last week my 15 month old daughter was intentionally pushed to the ground when she tried to play with an older child who wasn’t in the mood to share that day. My heart just about broke into a million pieces. I watched in disbelief as this unknown to me child put her hands on my baby and forcefully pushed her to the ground. I stood there dumbfounded and processed what had just happened. I mean, I somehow thought that I’d have at least a few more years before I’d have to deal with this sort of thing – she’s still a baby for crying out loud. My reaction was probably pretty typical. I ran over, picked up my kid and comforted her because that was what my momma instincts told me to do. (To be fair, although shocked by what had happened Margs wasn’t hurt, crying or otherwise upset) I watched the other child simply continue playing with really no awareness of what had just happened.   I spent the rest of the day pretty upset. I was sad that Margs had been excluded. I was angry that…

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A few weeks back I had a listen to The Power of A Morning Ritual from the Accidental Creative. I was at a point where I often found myself frantic, scattered and overwhelmed in the morning which made me irritable and unpleasant the rest of the day. Mornings around here can get pretty busy. Mer is up and trying to get ready for his work day while I’m mostly dealing with Margs on my own (who wakes up FULLY energized and ready to rock) which leaves very little time to wake up, focus and start the day off on the right foot. For quite some time, we had a great system going. She’d wake up and we’d cuddle in bed together for a good while before we all headed downstairs to get a start on our day. Recently though, she’s decided that once her eyes open she’s got to get right out of bed and mosey on down the stairs. This leaves very little time for me to do anything for myself since before I know it I need to whip breakfast together, change her diaper/clothes and start moving and shaking to keep up with her. The Accidental Creative podcast…

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