When I Think of You


 My mind runs on overdrive. 

Like all moms, my thoughts are endless and my mind drifts from one thing to another.

Over and over, and over again. 

This comes with the territory of being a parent. As my daughter gets older and she embarks on every milestone, my mind continues to worry, hope, and dream.

Today, my sweet girl turns five…FIVE!

My mind still has a hard time believing this precious girl is mine.


2 Days Old


I am amazed when I think about the impact she has made on my life.

I am overwhelmed by how my love grows more for her with each passing day.

My mind races.

 It is filled with dreams…with thoughts of her, and what her future will bring. 

 When I think of you, my darling daughter, these are the thoughts that flood my mind.

Pride. I am so proud of the person you are. You are strong and independent and you full-heartedly take on every challenge that comes your way. You are kind and thoughtful, generous and loving and wise and empathetic. You have so many qualities that make you an incredible human being.

When I think of you, I am beyond proud to be your mom. I am proud to call you mine. 


Happy 1st Birthday


Joy. You bring such joy to my life. You see the world with such vigor; ready to take on whatever the world throws at you. You make me see life through fresh, clear eyes. I love being able to see the world from a new perspective—from your perspective.

When I think of you, I smile with my whole heart. You fill my heart with incredible joy and happiness. 


Happy 2nd Birthday


Fear. I am afraid of what the world has in store for you. I fear mean spirited people who will try to break your joyous spirit. I fear I won’t always be able to protect you. I am afraid because I know I won’t be able to stop your heart from being broken. I fear this, but know it is part of life; but as your Mom my heart will break with yours.

When I think of you, I hope you know I am always here for you, no matter what. Please know you can come to me with anything, and everything.


Happy 3rd Birthday


Love. There is no greater love than the love a mother has for her child. I will love you through it all, even when you think I don’t. Being a mom is the purest example of unconditional love; this is what love looks like. Through the good, the bad, and especially the ugly, I am here to lean on.

When I think of you, I often think my heart may explode. I want you to always know how much I love you.



Happy 4th Birthday


Hope. I hope you will learn from every pleasant and unfortunate experience life challenges you with. I hope I have instilled a strong sense of self worth in you. I hope you have the strength to speak up for what you believe in and the courage to stand firm those in beliefs. When I think of you, I am hopeful for your future. I am hopeful for the fresh path set out for you, waiting for your little feet to make their mark.

When I think of you, I am overwhelmed by all of the possibilities ahead of you.


When I think of you, I fear and long for what your future holds.

When I think of you, I cherish all that you are and all of what you will become.

When I think of you, I feel a love like no other.

When I think of you, I can think of no bigger purpose in my life.


 Happy Birthday to my joy, my love, my heart; my Avrey.




Days are filled with hours, hours are filled with minutes, and minutes are filled with seconds.

Some days are hard.

Some days are filled with frustrations.

Some days our children are not the most amazing humans on the planet.

Some days we are not the most amazing parent on the planet.

But, that’s okay…

Some days finding the energy to sing silly songs, play hours of Barbie’s, or create Pinterest masterpieces cannot be mustered.

Some days clicking continue on Netflix is the only way to find a moment to hear our own thoughts.

Some days we wake up wishing the day were already over.

Some days if feels as though we are walking a fine line between failure and success.

But, that’s okay…

I am learning that being honest and expressing certain feelings is necessary.

I am doing my best to accept the hours, minutes, and seconds I am not always proud of.

I am determined to allow myself to be vulnerable and admit when life isn’t perpetual sunshine and endless rainbows.

I am human. I am flawed. Life is not perfect.

This is okay.

Every day I show up.

Every day I do my best, whatever my best may be.

Every day I find the strength, even when I feel my weakest.

Some days are a spectacular kaleidoscope.

Some days are a dull, blank canvas.

Some days we need the black to appreciate the color.

Every day my daughter cuddles by my side.

She makes me laugh…

She fills my heart with joy…

Every day my daughter has the ability to wash away the doubt.

These are the moments that reaffirm I am doing a good job. I find comfort and reassurance  in these simple, everyday moments.

I am thankful for my daughter who, unknowingly, is teaching me that every day does not have to be perfect.

A day does not define who I am. A day does not determine my worth as a mom.

A day is, simply, just that; it is one footprint amongst the many I will make in my journey.

Whatever color my today is…tomorrow offers a fresh page.

A new day to decide what I will create.


“Rainbow” by Miss. A

What is Love?


Love Is…


Love is a fleecy blanket.

A tight cocoon,

Warm, and comforting.


 Love is a fresh cup of coffee.

A soothing sip,

Delicious and energizing.


Love is a gentle embrace.

A safe place,

Loving and fulfilling.


Love is a messy smooch.

A spontaneous moment,

Innocent and reassuring.


Love is a genuine smile.

A friendly face,

Kind and encouraging.


Love is a quiet space.

A time to reflect,

Creative and all-encompassing.


Love is a thunderous sound.

A minute of silly laughter,

Contagious and erupting.


Love is a sweet gesture.

A second of selflessness,

Necessary and heart warming.


Love is a series of precious moments.

A string of memories,

Amazing and beautiful.


Love is love.

My little love.

The Bus Ride

I had something happen to me a few nights ago that I haven’t been able to get off my mind.

The other evening I finished my night class. I had to rush to catch the early bus and stood on the corner waving like a mad woman so the bus driver would see me as he made his way around the corner.

I was grumpy and tired.

I had spent the day at the library studying for an exam. My daughter cried when I left because she hadn’t been able to cuddle with me “All day!” I missed my husband and my girl. My mind drifted to my warm, cozy bed where I would soon find solace.

While wallowing in self-pity, a woman and her two small children came onto the bus. She and her youngest sat in the seat ahead of me, and her oldest filled the vacant seat beside me. She gave me a tired smile. I smiled back, noting she was likely close to my daughter’s age.

Within minutes, she had fallen asleep. Her little head bobbed on and off of my shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” the mom said to me.

“I don’t mind.” I replied. I honestly didn’t. It was late, and obviously past bedtime.

As I stared down at the sleeping girl beside me, I found myself judging this mom.

Why were her kids up so late?

What was she doing on the bus at this hour?

They should be home in bed, I self-righteously said to myself.

By the time we reached the bus station, both children were sound asleep. I offered to help the mom carry her babies and her bags off the bus.

When we got off the bus to a deserted station, I began to sense her panic. It was dark, it was cold, and it was late. I could see the tears welling up in her eyes.

“I don’t know what to do,” she said, hugging her youngest close to her chest.

I knew I needed to help her.

I offered to give her a ride. She hesitated. I told her I would drive her wherever they needed to go. Again, she hesitated. I reassured her I didn’t mind, to please let me help her. Then, in a faint voice, she told me.

I immediately understood her hesitation.

We bundled her babies up in my car and I drove them where they needed to go.

It broke my heart. In an instant I was brought back to reality. I was brought back to how profoundly blessed I am. How mediocre and ridiculous my earlier worries seemed.

I drove home; hot tears spilling down my face. When I walked through the door of my warm, safe home, and saw my husband, my heart exploded. I couldn’t muster any words. He wrapped me in his loving arms as I explained what had happened.

It took me a long time to fall asleep that night. I am still thinking about this woman. I feel grateful for being able to help her, but I feel incredibly embarrassed for judging her.

I had no right.

I had no idea the story of her life.

Sometimes people are put in our path to influence our lives, and this woman did exactly that. Through our brief encounter, this woman exemplified strength and courage. Her love for her children was evident. She reminded me of something I often forget. This woman helped me remember to be thankful for each and every day. But, most importantly, she reminded me of the importance of kindness. We never know the path someone else is traveling.

The lessons she reminded me of are simple:

Be kind.

Be loving.

Be supportive.

Be grateful.

This experience will stay with me forever.

I will likely never see this woman again.

But, if I ever do, I will tell her how brave and strong she truly is.



My Super Awesome Badass Mom

Badass is defined as, “formidable; excellent…”

So fitting.

So true.


Those of us who wake up each day with the best intentions are badass.

Those of us who stay at home and care for our children are badass.

Those of us who leave for work early in the morning are badass.

Those of us who are chasing our own dreams while raising our children are badass.

It’s simple. Moms are badass.

My mom is badass. She’s probably the biggest badass in the entire universe. At least to me she is, and isn’t that what every mom wants? I hope one day my own daughter will look at me and think, “Wow, my mom is super badass.”

My mom was a stay-at-home mom. She was a badass stay-at-home mom. She was there for us whenever me needed her. She made our favourite lunches. She was there to greet us when we returned from school. She was the mom who always had a snack ready and iced tea chilled for my friends when they came over to play. She was there for every extra-curricular activity and recital. She was there to clean our wounds when we fell off our bike. She was there to tuck us in each and every night.

She was there for it all.

When I was in grade three, my anxiety became a demon she would help me live with. From that moment, into my adulthood, my mom would guide and support me as I found my path.

She was my light.

She was my saving grace.

She was there to pull me back to the surface when my anxiety swallowed me whole.

She was my badass mom.

My mom never made me feel crazy, or weird, or got mad at my fears: as irrational as some must have seemed to her. She never told me to “suck it up,” or to “get over it.” She listened with open ears and a loving heart. She was my safe place to fall.

My mom fought as hard as she could to help me feel better–to feel like myself. Through all of the struggles my anxiety brought, she lifted me up. She let me lean on her, so that I could stand on my own. She gave me the strength and the courage to face things I otherwise would have run away from. With her by my side, I knew I could conquer anything.

 She was badass; and she made me believe I could be badass too.

Looking back now, I realize the sacrifices she made by devoting her time to her family 24/7. She says she wouldn’t have had it any other way. But, deep down I know she likely had other dreams­–dreams of her very own.

After having my own daughter I realize, more than ever, the struggles and hardships she must have faced. Like most moms, she had days where she felt frustrated, lonely, and sad. Like most moms, she buried her feelings, concealing them from her children. Then, in the darkness and quiet of the night, she could finally shed the tears she fought so hard to hide all day. As a child I was unaware of her struggles as a mom; but now, as an adult, I have an entirely different view. I see her life from a new perspective. I have a better understanding of exactly how badass she was.

My mom is still badass.

She is always there when I need her. She is my rock. She is my constant. She loves with her whole heart–fully and unconditionally. I know I can be myself with her and she will never judge me, or discount my feelings. We don’t always agree, but that’s what makes our relationship stronger, and authentic.

Together, we make one hell of a team. As individuals, we can trust in who we are, and we have the ability to build one another up when we know the other is struggling.

I can’t imagine my life without her, and I am beyond blessed to call her Mom.

My super awesome badass Mom.