Project Honour

An anniversary date is coming up this week. A baby girl I had the privilege of being Mommy to from birth to 14 months old left this world way too soon.

In therapy (this is a much needed resource to help me through) it was suggested I take time to honour her daily. Please indulge me. I never want to forget the beauty of my sweet girl.

I GET to remember her. What a privilege. What a joy to have been her mommy. To know she knew love at such an important time in her life. To know she felt safe and nurtured for the majority of her life. To know she is safe and happy now in her heavenly home … this I take solace in. She is not hungry or scared. She knows no pain and has complete peace.

Thank you sweet girl for the time we had. You are engraved in my heart forever. Until we meet again. That reunion will be oh so sweet.

Project Dress for Success

Did you know that you get to make the rules for your own life? Yes, those rules should come from an alignment with who you are and what you are about. (I am called to this life and role and my faith in Jesus is the undergirding of my everything.)

For me success changes from day to day. Today dressing for success involved putting on my workout clothes and getting down to business (move my body.) This is something I get to do and choose to do to bio hack my bad attitude.

My life today involves 3-4 sick babies/toddler/preschoolers (one of which escaped her crib like a ninja at 4 am — her latest feat in a long list of parkour exercises she performs daily.) What more can I do? Fetal position? Head in the sand? Pint of ice cream? Nope, none of these will help me ‘feel’ better.

I still have to be a wife, mother, friend, daughter, human. So I am going to play with my latest toys (heavier kettlebells — hello 50lbs! (*pssst… you are kicking my butt mister.)

How do you overcome a rough start to the day? Let’s learn from one another.

Project Progressions

I have done it. I have booked my theory exam to become a Canfit pro Personal Training Specialist. As all things in my life, I find correlations between what I am learning and my daily happenings.

I was studying yesterday in a very noisy food court as it is less noisy (and demanding) than my own home. I was on the chapter about foundational movement practices and how to adapt those movements to your client based on their level. I am my own best/worst client.

Some days I feel like all of the pieces of life are passing me by. I struggle daily to do all the things. My foundations seem to be solid but progress is slow in all areas… or so I thought…

It turns out that if you randomly decide to learn how to do something and practice a tiny bit every day, that eventually you will be able to do the thing. And then the thing will actually get easier.

I am going to take the win. I am going to embrace the now. And I am going to take all of those teeny tiny steps towards whatever the thing of the moment is; until I master it and move on to add the next thing. I am grateful for today. What baby steps are part of your wins this hour/week/month/year/decade? (Obviously keeping all the babes loved, fed, clothed and safe is a big daily win for me.)

Project Skip Leap

I spent way too long last summer trying to talk myself into jumping off our boat into the lake. When did I become the fearful one? How can I be paralyzed in some ways and so free in others?

In fitness I have learned about muscular hyper mobility as well as impingements. How can one body be so free in some ways and literally/stuck/ frozen/limited in either strength or mobility in others?

I love the word ‘undergird’ .. mostly because it makes me think of girdles .. and I think ‘girdle’ is a funny word. In order to find freedom in my mind and body I have had to go to the core. The root of who I am. The core of my being. The part the girdle holds in place. 😜

My days are not my own right now. My life is not my own for this very busy season. But that doesn’t make me less ‘me.’ If anything, I am more ‘me’ because everything else has been stripped away. It has been stripped away by a pandemic, trauma and loss, our life stage with all of our children and the fact we are aging. Mid life crisis anyone??!

Life is full. Life is crazy. Life can be chaotic. It can be stressful. It is definitely tiring. But our core, the core of our family, of our ‘us’-ness is still consistent.

My core is strong, dysfunctional in some ways but stable in others. But as the plumb line of my life slowly aligns with truth and heals, I know that things will feel better and I will get better at the ‘more’ of life.

Fear doesn’t get to define me. I will not be held back by my body, toxic thoughts, toxic relationships or poor habits. These are things I can control. These are things we all have power over.

What method do you use to find your alignment in your life, your plumb line?

Project Pandemic

We have been trudging through the muck that is the reality of living in a pandemic. As if life in general can’t be a challenge, quarantine is the worst. I have been contemplating a ‘jail break’ since last Friday.

6/8 of our family got covid this month. 1/8 was a scary case. 4/8 of us are fully vaccinated. 3/8 of us are boosted. 1 of the boosted had only received their booster the same day as exposure and subsequently had mild symptoms and tested positive. 2/8 had no symptoms and tested negative (the fully vaccinated boosted.)

Our covid consisted of 4 babies needing constant care 24/7. One of those suffering was on the verge of needing a visit to the hospital. It was scary. Worse still, there was so much whining. I may never recover from that.

This is our experience. We made it through. Praying the same for all of you.

Project Canoodle

I can’t show you the images that are emblazoned on my heart. I can’t share the photos of *’our’ baby girl in heaven.

As I snuggle up with her big brother in the home he knows so well, my heart swells with love. But, each time I do (and it is often!) my heart eeks out just a little of the intense grief that I keep carefully tamped down.

You see, he has her eyes.

I cling to the image of that baby girl snuggled up in the arms of Jesus. Daily, her big brother is snuggled up in mine. She is HOME.

*in our home (as foster parents or otherwise) we don’t distinguish how we love. ‘Born into’ or ‘chosen’ for our family, we love wholly.

Project Travel Mug

I seem to be accumulating an abundance of travel mugs lately. That may be because of my need to a) use the adult equivalent to a sippy cup b) preserve the integrity of my coffee temperature as it often gets put aside. I have spilled my coffee 4 times even with my new ‘sippy cups’…

I’ve been trying on a few subscriptions for size in the past couple of months. Our family now has a bone broth subscription and I have a monthly flower subscription. On top of that we are using a local meal kit service, a cleaning service and I have a couple of fitness classes too. Phew! Did I make you tired just listing all of that? Failure to plan is a plan to fail. (Did I just swear? I feel like that could be taken as curse words for someone..)

We have been in a holding pattern which has allowed my very busy brain some space to plan ahead. Our family is growing again. We shall soon have 4 children 4 and under. Plus two bigs who also live under our roof. It is a lot. This is a lot. Planning is required.

I’ve had to ask for help. I’ve had to hire help. I sometimes have to beg for help (“here, take this baby.. I am going to have a bath.”)

There are pieces to the puzzle I haven’t quite figured out and others I am trying on for size.

Overall I am feeling extremely grateful. And in the moments when I feel overwhelmed I will stop to smell the literal rose in my flower bouquet and sip some coffee, bone broth or just plain enjoy a crazy meal with my crazy family.

Project Backtalk

I’ve been having to talk myself down the past several days. Our bodies makeup is quite astounding. Even when we think we are managing, our bodies are fairly adept at communicating otherwise. Chemically our bodies are intuitive and our brains communicate to the rest of our bodies in a way that should eventually get our attention. Ie tight muscles anyone? Ground down teeth?

Anxiety isn’t top of my list of what ails me. Being overwhelmed would be a better descriptor of what some days feel like. There are a lot of moving parts to this crazy life of ours. And I have fairly high expectations of myself. I am perpetually having to ease off the gas in my life to allow for reality to set in.

How do you eat an elephant? One bite at a time. How does this busy and exhausted mama manage all of the things? Quite frankly, she doesn’t. She prioritizes and continues to adjust her expectations on the daily.

That mean girl, that cheeky, rude ‘devil on my shoulder’ keeps telling me I am not enough. That I do not do enough. That I should be able to do it all. Today, I choose to talk back to that internal voice and say ‘ENOUGH!’ Whatever I accomplish today, it is enough. I will speak kindness to myself and others. End of story.

May the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart be pleasing to YOU oh LORD my GOD. The rest will take care of itself.

Project Mean Girl … again

I. Am. A. Mean. Girl. I have absolutely no patience with myself and my limitations. I expect the world (of myself) and find myself lacking …often. Talk about the perfect recipe for a personal crisis.

I have a newborn baby. I am not 20 anymore… in fact I am closer to 50. Whaaaat???! I was tired with my newborns in my 20s. Why should I expect any different of myself now? I also have a 1 year old whose primary objective is to destroy the house on the daily. And a 4 year old whose very essence reeks of independence and sass. I have good reason to feel a bit tired.

Add to these variables that we are reeling from the recent knowledge that the baby girl we raised from 3 days old to 14 mos old passed away under tragic circumstances while no longer in our care. And we are in a daily fight to try and bring her brother back home to us. This is all exhausting. This mama is weary. This is a time for Grace if ever there was one.

So what does self care look like right now? My self care allows for tears. It allows for more Starbucks iced coffees than it should. It allows for gentle movement. It allows for showing up just as I am and having that be good enough.

My self care also says ‘yes.’ It says ‘yes’ to meals being provided and ‘yes’ to gifts of cards and flowers and meal delivery services. It says ‘yes’ to people who offer support through prayer or other intangibles.

My top 5 K.I.S.S. Plan (keep it simple sweetie/stupid) for now is:

Be kind! Move my body when I can however I can.

Be kind! Sleep or snooze or at least rest whenever I can.

Be kind! Be present in the moment because these sweet ones grow all too quickly.

Be joyful. Whatever that looks like… it could be dancing or singing along to a favourite song or being silly with the kids.

Just be. Whatever I feel… (and those feelings are coming fast and furious )… just allow them. Tears are healing balm to my broken heart. Accept that some days are easier and some days are harder. Just be. And breathe.

Project Flamenco

I have discovered a magic pill… flamenco dancing. Well, the Zumba version because I am pretty sure I am not coordinated enough for the real deal.

Lots has been happening in our foster home over the past couple of weeks. There has been devastating grief as the very real possibility of our two littlest babies reuniting with their mama has become apparent. As much as that is the goal of fostering, we love each child in our home as if they are ours so of course it hurts… a lot.

And so, what is a girl to do? I dance. I hold those babies tight and shake what my mama gave me.

I am no scientist but chemically speaking, dopamine is released during exercise. My mental acuity improves as my brain signals my body to move at a certain pace with specific moves. As I learn to move, I am also learning to instruct which means that my brain and body are working even harder still. All of which distracts me from a broken heart.

I need all the help I can get otherwise I am very sad. The last thing a girl with depression needs is something to push her equilibrium over in the wrong direction. I guess you could call this self medicating?

So, flamenco I shall.