A Sweet Little Girlie

  I became a Marmee (grandmother) at forty two and it has been such a joy and blessing. A little while ago my daughter had her second baby. For the first pregnancy she found out the gender but for this pregnancy she and her husband decided to keep it a surprise. People were divided on their guesses but my daughter was hoping against hope for a girl. She is adopted and the relationships she has had to navigate with myself and her birth mother and other mothers in her life have been challenging at times. The hope of a little girl to mother and bond with felt extra special. 

I was able to be there for the labor and delivery, and was there for the moment when we found out that this baby was indeed a girl!

My daughter had a challenging pregnancy on all levels. She has a young toddler, she was so sick to the point of needing to be hospitalized, she had gestational diabetes and more. At the end of the pregnancy she tried to induce labor twice hoping to meet the baby and have some of the challenging, almost unbearable, pregnancy symptoms leave. However this baby was not willing to vacate on demand! 

Finally she went in to get a non stress test and was told her water could be broken because she was dilated so far already. Thankfully baby came just a few short hours after that. There were many many moments of the labor and delivery that were poignant and beautiful and powerful. Having a baby is such a vulnerable and painful experience. My daughter was strong and surrounded by love and care and her baby was welcomed into a family that will cherish her and support her in any way possible. 

I am so thankful she is here and all is well.

Baby Adaleigh was seven pounds and four ounces and the second smallest baby in our immediate family. Her brother had arrived at nine pounds four ounces so this girlie seems SO petite. She has been so snuggly and so sweet and just such a blessing. Her big brother adores her and her aunties and uncles cannot handle her cuteness.

A Full House

 August now holds three birthdays for our family. My son turned twelve and this summer he changed drastically from a little boy to a young man. My baby turned three and is quickly becoming less and less a baby. Pretty soon the life I have known for so long will change. I won't have a baby co sleeping, nursing, and needing me to be on call twenty four seven. I will have some body autonomy of sorts and some more freedom. I can't fathom it at this moment but it is on the horizon. 

Also this August I became a Marmee for the second time. My daughter had her baby in late August. This was so exciting and also such a relief. The pregnancy was not easy and the waiting for the baby to come became more than she could manage in some respects. Thankfully the labor and delivery were quick and drama free and this tiny soul has been calm and sweet and such a joyous welcome addition to our home. We have eleven people living here now. 

Oh September

 The coming of Autumn is a promise of beauty but also a farewell. The corn is ready to harvest and the roses still bloom. Last night my daughter came home with buckets of flowers and joy. She wanted to make bouquets and today we did. To live where there are such defined seasons is a blessing I don't take for granted. This summer has been hot and smokey and during August we barely saw blue skies. Each morning the windows were open beckoning in what cool air there was before the heat of the day hit like a brick. It was a quiet summer in that we were not out and about. It was a loud summer in that the fighting and anxiety was brutal! I feel even more exhausted now than I did before summer started and that's not saying much but it is saying something. I guess I have given every shred of myself I had to give and there is good in that. So here is to another summer ~ the summer of 2026. We made it through, and we had the most beautiful moments. 

A Reunion

 I went to a family reunion on my mother's side of the family this weekend. I have great memories of time with my cousins as a child, and have always been thankful for the effort my mom and aunties took to bring the cousins together. There were two kinds of cousins that I observed ~ they were all off the charts smart ~ but some were sensitive and creative and loved music and art. The other cousins were more mathematical and scientific. They could be found at the fuse ball table or playing games of stock ticker, while the other cousins would be singing away at the piano. 

 At this reunion there were quite a few of those cousins there but we are all middle aged now. I had not thought back to memories with my cousins for years (and therefore not been hit with that beautiful feeling of nostalgia and thankfulness). I was chatting with one of my cousins and there was a moment when all of my cousin's children, and my own children (probably almost twenty children), started running in a group up into a wooded area yelling a game they were going to play. My cousin looked up, and his face transformed, and he said, 'it's like the old days; that was the best.' For a second I could see the yearning and the youthfulness on his face again remembering his brother and cousins in their smaller forms. 

What a gift memory can be, I have been feeling that to my core lately. 

I have teared up a few times remembering this moment from yesterday.

 My grandparents got married at nineteen years of age and were married for many years. There were many hardships but through it all they did create a legacy. All those little children from my cousins and myself ~ what absolute gifts to the earth ~ and all because two people fell in love all those years ago back in World War Two. 

 How beautiful to see this legacy in the flesh laughing and chatting and playing together. I think my grandparents would have been so proud.

Thank you to my sweet aunties for planning the reunion ~

xo

The Power of Making a Choice

  I have been struggling a lot this week. I have a child that has been in such a dark place for a long time. Slowly things have been better and seemingly more hopeful, but this week there was deep disappointment for me and grief too. I felt exhausted which is how my body responds often to something that feels to hard to manage.

  I don't have the luxury of just laying in bed or checking out on many levels. Yesterday my family went for a hike and it was not something I wanted to do. However, I knew that it would be the best thing for me. No matter if I go somewhere with my family or not it always involves prep and work on my part. Everyone needs proper clothing and foot wear, snacks and drinks, etc. By the time everyone leaves I am worn out from repeating myself, and trying to account for everyone's needs. It just takes so much for some reason. We got out the door and headed up to the lake and mountain and I felt like I was having a panic attack.  My body was in full blown overwhelm. When we arrived at the hike it promptly started pouring rain and we were not prepared with rain gear. 

  As we walked along uphill, my muscles were burning, my two year old was in a tutu, the rain stopped, the panic started to drift away. The moss draped the branches of the trees like cloaks, the ferns thickly covered the hillsides and water gurgled along in a little creek. This specific hike has teapots and tea cups hidden amongst the beauty everywhere, and it is a treasure hunt for any child with any sort of appreciation for beauty and whimsy. My children were enraptured and were clambering up steep sides of the trail to count and find and explore. They were so happy. 

  The older children ran ahead and disappeared. As we went higher and higher, and were almost to the top, the rain started to pour down. It didn't take long until we were soaked. I had brought sweaters for the younger children and ended up carrying my youngest a good ways down the mountain. The rain was pouring, the green was vibrant, and the air was cool and refreshing. During the last bit of trail it was just my seven year old and I walking alone. She was cold and wet but also she remarked how much she was appreciating that it was just the two of us together.  We went home and had hot chocolate, and everyone took warm showers, and it was the perfect chance for my body to process a bit and to keep moving forward. 

  I had to choose to do this, and that is the key. So often I have observed that people make choices to stay the same, or to choose something hurtful or harmful for their bodies, to not move forward, or go anywhere, but to just stay stagnant. 

I have often done this myself.

 Life can be bewildering, painful, and disappointing. As a highly sensitive person it feels like an onslaught. I have a child a lot like me and I see how she processes her emotions as she feels them. Wave after wave of emotion ever breaking over her. She has some health complications, a sibling that bullies her, and other things that make life challenging and hard. She does a lot of crying, whining, and complaining, and she does not hold back. This is realistically how I feel inside I think but it comes out as  overwhelmed, tired, and often frustrated. How is life for people who are not highly sensitive? 

It is not fun for me to be this way!!!!

So, going for a hike, enjoying the beauty, feeling pockets of wonder and joy ~ such a good choice to make.

May this weekend hold happenings that nurture your soul and propel you somewhere positive.

It is a choice you can make I think, and there is much power and beauty in that.

All the best

xo

One Of My Favourite Places

 I took my three youngest to where I grew up. Somehow, I left part of myself there, and whenever I go back I feel whole. It helps that I have dear friends that live there, that I have known most of my life, that accept me and make time for me. My sister is there, cousins, aunties, and a sister in law as well. It is an island and the ocean is always near. 

  It takes two hours to drive to the ferry from where I live, and on this day I had a ferry reservation. I made my time slot by one minute. It was a nail biting, sick to your stomach, experience! Once on the ferry my two year old was wild, absolutely wild. It was a mental emotional marathon to stay patient and sane. My eleven year old was a hero and helped keep her contained. 

 Once we got off the ferry we went straight to my sister in laws, and spent time with my nephew, who truly seems like he is living his best life right now. He is so sweet, and it was a joy to see all he has created and to take part in his joy. 

  We stayed on top of a mountain with a dear friend and enjoyed the beauty of her home and the comfort of her hospitality. My soul was refreshed there as it always is.

  We spent an afternoon and evening by the ocean with friends and my sister. That day...the best. The best day of my year so far I believe. I felt light, and free, and happy. So happy! I needed this relief. 

  We spent time at another friend's home, and at a beautiful store, and at my cousins, and we returned home. 

My cup was full. 

My Rose Bush

   Since moving here to this house there has been a Rose bush that has grown tall enough for me to see every day out my window. When we move there will be countless things I miss about this property. I am the type of person that feels pain when I think of leaving a place I have made a home. I get attached and sentimental, and things like door handles make me cry when I think of leaving them. It sometimes boggles my mind that this is the truth. How am I like this? I feel like many people would not understand in the slightest. My husband used to be one of those people.

   One day though, not many years ago, I got rid of a couch that had been in my life since I was nineteen. It has been with us through our entire marriage, but it had reached an end. There was rotting food in it from an unnamed child and I could not get the smell out. My daughter and I lifted it down our stairs and manhandled it out the front door. When my husband got home he had a moment. A MOMENT of understanding something about me he has never really understood and found it easy to find annoying. He felt grief over a couch.  Moments like that are so VALIDATING.

  So when I think about moving from this place, because we will be sometime, and probably soon, I am SICK at the thought of leaving this Rose bush. It has reminded me of my grandmother, it has brought me joy, it has brought me comfort, and creativity, and has been a gift. Just a Rose bush, but a life giver, a sustainer, and it was planted by Manfred, a German plumber, who built this house and planted many flowers. How I have appreciated Manfred every day for ten years living here. He built me the perfect home. He never had any children, but this home feels like it has gifted me love in a way I can't explain.

  Right now I can see the corn right across the road, the Roses are blowing in a gentle breeze, the baby is sleeping, and even though today has been the usual challenge I feel such a deep mix of grateful, and exhausted, and poured out, and given to.

I know I can't thank the Rose bush really, but I can thank its Creator. 

Sending you love,

Tansy