Torre started daycare last week, and I’ve been kind of a mess about it. In so many ways it has been a solution we needed because our families are not near enough to help, and our paycheques do not stretch to cover babysitters (although we have been blessed with gracious friends who let us grossly underpay them!), and I have been back and forth between finding myself and losing myself in the daily rhythms of outings to the park and a peanut butter sandwich for lunch before nap and waiting-for-daddy-to-come-home.

Writing this out makes my eyes well up because it touches so close to the very tender place of how deeply I love my son as well as to the brittle-as-glass fear that I am not enough as a parent. Starting daycare has been hard because of the gut-wrenching goodbyes, the ache of missing him through the day that is different from when I’d go to work and Matt took care of him. It has been hard because of the relief that is nestled like a peach pit in a big ball of guilt. I can run errands or see friends or paint my nails without timing it around his naps and without wondering what he’s gotten into that is keeping him so quiet in the other room.

When I picked him up from daycare today, they were outside and we ran toward each other like it was a movie and I was returning from war. I scooped him up and spun around, and the joy of reuniting almost convinced me that this is okay – missing each other all day and having only an hour or two before bedtime to snuggle and read books and watch firetrucks on youtube.

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Remember the Poor

“Only they asked us to remember the poor, the very thing I was eager to do.”
-Galatians 2:10

This is not me. To be perfectly honest, I’d rather not remember the poor, because the less I think about those who have less than me, the easier it is to be self-indulgent and self-pitying about how little I have.

In reality, I have far more than I need. I know it deep down, and I know it when I take the time to be grateful that there is money left over when we pay our bills, which is more than many many people can say. We eat good food, and I have to say that my heart has caught in my throat a time or two with just how happy I am to watch Torre eat a whole peach’s worth of slices,

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Paint Name Fun

Another side project I have on the go is finally painting the apartment we’ve lived in for 4 years. Matt said we should paint when we moved in, and I am finally ready to admit he was right. So we have had a lot of fun together looking at different colours, reading up on interior design, and choosing what to put on our walls.


Of course, people who invent colours can’t use the regular names for colours that I learned by reading crayons. If you thought taupe or cyan were weird names, just steer clear of paint stores or websites.

For your pleasure and amusement (as well as my own) I have invented a new system whereby you can choose what colour to paint your room, home, nails or dog. Simply take the word that corresponds with your month of birth and the word that corresponds with what day your birthday falls on – that’s your colour! All yours, a personal gift from me to you.


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