I try to keep Christmas in our house fairly low-key in terms of gifts – well, as much as is possible, given the whole focus of the holiday! Olive gets one gift from Santa plus the little things in her stocking, and I give her one gift as well. She has about a million aunts and uncles and I often try to coordinate experience gifts with them (Science centre passes, days out, helping with the cost of extra-curricular activities, etc), but there’s never any shortage of gifts to open. Despite this, I have a few gift-related traditions I try to keep up each year.
First, she gets a new tree ornament each year – this year it’s this adorable handmade one from Etsy that I personalized to celebrate her hard work in Taekwondo – and second, I get her a book.
Poetry has made its way back into my life in a big way lately. I’ve always admired the precision of a few carefully chosen words and the way a single sentence can shock you into silence with its perfect composition.
So – happy Sunday. One of my favourite poems for my daughter and the full text written out afterwards.
My yoga teacher read this poem during our class this morning and it was so beautiful I had to share it. Hope you enjoy this Wednesday poem.
Oh hey there, I’m just popping in with a very quick post to say that I may have drastically underestimated how adept Olive is at trolling me and/or I am killing it with this whole parenting thing.
Almost two weeks ago, Olive turned five.
I didn’t write much about it then, and I told myself it was because I was so busy with her birthday party and her family dinner and the excitement and preparation and post-party exhaustion that came with both.
That was partially true – I love birthdays, and I love making hers special, so I am usually completely pooped by the time it’s all over – but I also just really didn’t know how to write about it without leaning heavily on cliches, or composing a post that was just a single long exhale and a slowly whispered, “Five?!”.
So much of this seems beyond the realm of possibility.