Oh Hi There

Dear blog. You have not been abandoned. Its just that these are the things that have happened in the last two weeks: Gram arrived, went to Baddeck, went to Big Pond beach, went sailing, recovered sailboat cushions, visited with visiting Uncle Raymond, Aunt Tara Lee and Faith, delivered Turnip, started a new job, plotted a neighbourhood park renovation, bought a new couch and chair, went to Tedx Bras d'Or and went to Two Rivers Wildlife Park. Easily the busiest but best two weeks of summer so far. 

Except for the Wildlife Park. That was not the best. I don't know why I didn't think it would be a sad place  but it was a really really sad place. The animals weren't in tiny cages and they weren't sick or starving but there eyes were so empty and they hardly moved. Wolves, bears, foxes, cougars, goats, cows, any animal you could ever want to see up close, just lying there. I wish now that I hadn't played my six dollar part in helping them to keep doing what they're doing.  

Onto some less sad thoughts of the last two weeks: 

Frankie sleeps eight hours a night but I still only sleep six. I vow down to my toes to change this every morning that she rises before the sun. And then I stay up until midnight. Again. Or else I go to bed at ten and am wide awake at three am. I think I have been sleep-trained by my baby.

I am done in by how grown up she looks when wearing barrettes, running shoes or two-piece pajamas. Oh well, short hair, sandals and footie-pjs till she's twelve. 

When Frankie eats a full breakfast, lunch or supper I feel like mom of the year. The other nine of ten meals make me doubt that she'll ever grow tall enough to turn a door knob.

Believing that our hearts become a bit bigger and our minds a bit wiser when we can find love in life's trying moments has been a great source of calm and rootedness over the last year. Like those hungry/tired mamma hungry/tired/crying baby kind of moments. Thank you Buddhism for Mothers of Young Children.     

And a less sad photo. Kind of:

Frankie insisting that little girls don't need shaves.

No real Frankie's were harmed or shaved in the taking of this photograph.