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Motherhood, Olive

The First Weeks

We’re wrapping up Olive’s second week of Grade 1, and so far, it’s been a bit nuts. I mean, exciting and milestone-y and deeply gratifying, but nuts nonetheless.

The whole thing began earlier than I’d intended – at 5 AM last Tuesday morning, her first day of school.

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Olive, Uncategorized

Portraiture

We just came back from our annual family summer vacation (AKA The Rumpus) and while there’s a lot that could be said, I will begin by presenting to you the portraits Olive did of everyone in attendance.

As you’ll soon see, a picture truly is worth a thousand words (or in this case, a dollar, which is what Olive charged each of us. A bargain if you ask me.)

Please, enjoy.

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Motherhood, Olive

The Dark

I miss her the most at night.

She’s been gone almost five weeks and although it’s been easy to fill the days with friends and exercise and work and even a little bit of travel mixed in for good measure, the nights aren’t such a simple story.

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Motherhood

Families Belong Together

I’ve been feeling unsettled lately for two very specific reasons.

First, because in a week’s time, Olive will be flying across the country to stay with her dad. He moved to Ontario at the beginning of April, and our custody arrangement has changed significantly as a result. We are still working out what will work best for Olive, but the likeliest outcome is that Olive will live with me for the majority of the year and for a portion of the summer, when time off school permits longer visits, Olive will spend time in Ontario.

I have a lot of feelings about this. Part of me is desperate for a break and part of me is excited that she’s going to spend time with her dad and part of me is deeply, deeply uncomfortable with the whole situation because she’s going for seven weeks. Seven weeks.

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Motherhood

To know her

My mom babysat Olive last night and when I came home my house was spotless. The dishwasher was quietly humming, Olive’s toys were stacked neatly in her toybox. My dining room table was clear. My bed was made.

The sweetest things are always, always the smallest things.

When I drop Olive off at school I wait by the playground fence as she lines up with her classmates. She runs back three or four times for another hug, another kiss, another “I love you”. When her class begins to slowly file inside she interrupts her excited chattering every¬†few seconds to look back and wave, “Bye mummy!” she cries, “Bye mummy!”.

I miss writing about motherhood.

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