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A few brief lines on my own hypocrisy

5 May

A few years has passed since I wrote my Masters research paper on how Twitter builds community both on and offline. I’ve been thinking about this lately as I peruse the posts of others and leave my own little page neglected. As a communicator, I know the value of an online presence and these tools. I know that being busy is not an excuse. I question my value to these spaces and have been taking the time to reflect upon the type of presence I want to have. What would a future employer think as they stumble upon this page? I want to be authentic. I love language and words and grammar, and I know I have been relying too easily on the same general words to describe just about everything these days.

No batteries required

11 Dec

Confession: I can’t remember the words to any lullabies or kids’ songs. When The Dude was screaming his tiny face off one day, I made up a rap about him and freestyled for about an hour. I can’t remember any of the words to that either. In addition to this complete failure on my part, the big downside to being a stay-at-home mom for this year is that babies are (unsurprisingly) terrible conversationalists. So I read to him. A lot.

I love the idea of getting little people books for Christmas, even if those books will be read to them rather than read by them. I will read, and always have read, just about anything I could get my hands on — including cereal boxes and the Harlequin romance novels I found in the bottom drawer of my mom’s dresser. There are so many good things about books and story and imagination; I adore Neil Gaiman’s lecture entitled Why our Future Depends on Libraries, Reading, and Daydreaming.

Our little Boo has quite a large library already, but I couldn’t help but order a few more from NPR’s awesome list of best kids’ books from 2013 for him, his cousins, and one of my cousin’s daughters. I’m so excited to add some of these imaginative, beautiful books to the stories in his collection that I loved as a kid. I hope that being surrounded by all of these wonderful stories will inspire him to be a voracious reader, like B and I both.

Squeaky E

10 Sep

 

 

I keep coming back to this space — to drafts I have yet to hit the publish button on — and it almost seems overwhelming to describe what has been happening over the past year (more, really). I have so many words that fail to accurately describe our wedding and the love that I felt that day being surrounded by many of the most important people in our lives, and I will get around to attempting to write those words here.

However, I will spend today snuggling this handsome little man.

Squeaky E

My littlest love is almost seven weeks old already. Known as Squeaky E, E-Rock my Ewok, The Dude, or simply Baby Boo, tiny Eric melted our hearts for the first time on July 25.

on adventure

1 Nov

Photo taken on my iPhone, right before landing in Victoria, BC.

Every flight I’m on always reminds me of the trip I made to move from my small town in Ontario to the wild wild Alberta west. I had never been to this part of the country before — not even for a visit — but with no apartment, no allies, and the promise of a writing test, I bought a one-way ticket and packed my life into the allowed two suitcases. Flights mean the promise of adventure, starting over, learning new things about myself.

I might enjoy flying more than vacation itself, partly because of the exhilaration of take off, the feeling I get while being above the clouds watching the sun come up, and the way my life flashes before my eyes as I brace myself for the bumps of landing.

Four years ago, I went on a first date with B, and when our relationship flashes through my mind there is not a single moment that I would change. Before B, I got bored quickly with every boy I dated; maybe it helps that we’re so different — the writer and the engineer. When I look back on our life together, it feels like we never really left the honeymoon stage. Our fights are few and show that we are passionate about both our beliefs and each other. We hold hands. We are constantly learning new things about each other, like our shared love of beets and our varying opinions on romance. We support each other’s interests. I genuinely like talking to B, and miss him when he’s gone. We have figured out how to communicate without pissing each other off or causing tears (the tears are all mine). We play games (of the board, video, and card variety). We grocery shop and make dinner together. My favourite nights are those we spend just hanging out together with a bottle (or two) of wine. We drink a lot of wine. We get along well with each other’s families. We talk about our days and dream about the future. I’ve learned that, just maybe, that’s what this whole love thing is all about.

Happy anniversary, love.

Nearly two years and 6,000 words all boils down to this.

30 May

20 Apr

[via Married to the Sea]

happy birthday, love!

17 Mar

“It’s called ‘lip rock’ because it sticks to your lip.'” B, the wannabe geologist, teaches me about shale.

Dear B:

You should be thankful I didn’t use that picture. You know, other than posting it as your Facebook profile picture today.

Sorry for disrupting your nerdy bachelor lifestyle; your once peach-hued pad and your wardrobe are more stylish than ever. Thanks for teaching me how to play computer games; I needed another distraction from school. I appreciate that you ramble on to me about chemical plants and why engineers will never follow rules for apostrophe use. I like that you poke my nose like a weirdo, and that you rarely comment about how many shoes I have.

I love every bit of you: every freckle, every mole, and every hair left in your rapidly diminishing hairline. Happy birthday, darling. You rock. (See what I did there?)