Squash Baby

As I’ve noted before, Olive will eat anything and everything. She’s eaten (and enjoyed) beef liver, sushi, whole containers of lettuce and raw cabbage for breakfast.


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For Mother’s Day this year, my little sister, Lizzie (also known around these parts as Aunt Loulie) sat down with Olive and asked her a few questions about me. She did one of these for my birthday last year, too, and they’ve quickly become my favourite thing ever. It’s fascinating to see yourself through your toddler’s eyes…and also terrifying?

Behold, our Mother’s Day quiz 2016
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Mother’s Day feels so strange this year. That initial drop into motherhood feels so far away. It’s been almost four years, I barely remember what it feels like to be swollen and full, to feel tiny feet pushing against my belly from the inside. I’m starting to forget the tingly whoosh of my milk letting down, I can barely remember the feeling of a tiny weight against my chest, milky breath against my cheek.

That part of motherhood feels like another life.

It’s so different than I thought it would be. It challenges me and makes me stretch and dig and grow deeper. Olive is so different than I thought she would be. She’s louder and more vibrant and more real than I ever thought possible.

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KidsFest 2016


It is well and truly summer here. I’ve been spring cleaning and flinging doors open and filling our home with lilacs and fresh air. I found a secondhand kids balance bike for Olive and whipped up some homemade streamers for it and she’s been rocking around our neighbourhood every chance she gets. We’ve been ending every day exhausted, filthy, and with a few more freckles than the day before.

I’ve always loved fall, but in terms of parenting a small child, spring and summer are IT. As soon as the weather gets warm enough, our entire life shifts outdoors and everything just gets easier. We eat in the backyard and don’t have to clean up the cesspool of crumbs and dropped bites, our laundry goes on the line and I don’t have to spend hours each week in a dingy laundry room, her toys get replaced by sticks and dirt and rocks and bugs and trees and I don’t have to clean any of it up at the end of the day!

So basically, I’m in my glory. We’re basking, basking in it these days.

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Feminism/Gender, Musings



I have many thoughts about Beyonce’s new visual album. She released it as a one hour journey through song, video and spoken word.

The first words out of her mouth on the very first track are

You can taste the dishonesty, it’s all over your breath.

I was not prepared.

So much of this album wasn’t written for me, sung for me, or performed for me. It’s steeped in rich black culture, flooded with strong black women, I recognize that and I step back from that. (if you’d like to know more, this is a fantastic read)

The most disrespected person in America is the Black woman, the most unprotected person in America is the Black woman. The most neglected person in America is the Black woman.

That first line, however, began to uncoil something for me. Those song lyrics interspersed with poetry by Warsan Shire.

Something don’t feel right
Because it ain’t right
Especially comin’ up after midnight
I smell your secret, and I’m not too perfect
To ever feel this worthless…

What’s worse?
Lookin’ jealous or crazy? Jealous or crazy?

What a wicked way to treat the girl that loves you…

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