The House That Love Built = SOLD!
Am delighted, a bit sad and sorta freaking out. We have to pack up and be gone by mid-January.
AGH!
But, thank GOD for prayers answered, my in-laws for all their efforts, my parents for love and support and everyone who has listened to me whinge for the last year.
And to Mark, for building it all, with love, only to leave it all behind for this new, exciting journey.
Merry Christmas, indeed!
Tuesday, December 23, 2008
Saturday, December 20, 2008
The Spirit of the Season...
is actually a Leprechaun called Matthew!
We got our tree tonight - a small one, dropped off just before dinner. MUCH excitement from Matthew, and Luke just ran around babbling, happily oblivious, whacking things with his hockey stick.
Later, as I settled Luke into sleep, Matthew and Mark headed to the farm to get our "Christmas Box", stored in the shed since last year. Came home, red-cheeked and "crunchy-coated" from being outside in the frigid air.
While Daddy strung the lights, Matthew and I gleefully unpacked the ornaments - if I wasn't really in the Christmas mood before, I sure am now! Matthew oohed and ahhed over every last piece - "his" ornaments from the year of his birth, the one from our wedding, the ugly ones, the pretty angels, all of 'em.
And finally as we stood back to admire the lights blazing, balls dangling and stars shining in the glow, I looked over at my beloved son's face and almost wept. There, in eyes bright with excitement, the magic of the season glistened.
Christmas really is a magical time and this year, I have two, joyfully magical little imps to share this time, these moments. Sigh.
Life is good and I am very, very blessed, indeed.
We got our tree tonight - a small one, dropped off just before dinner. MUCH excitement from Matthew, and Luke just ran around babbling, happily oblivious, whacking things with his hockey stick.
Later, as I settled Luke into sleep, Matthew and Mark headed to the farm to get our "Christmas Box", stored in the shed since last year. Came home, red-cheeked and "crunchy-coated" from being outside in the frigid air.
While Daddy strung the lights, Matthew and I gleefully unpacked the ornaments - if I wasn't really in the Christmas mood before, I sure am now! Matthew oohed and ahhed over every last piece - "his" ornaments from the year of his birth, the one from our wedding, the ugly ones, the pretty angels, all of 'em.
And finally as we stood back to admire the lights blazing, balls dangling and stars shining in the glow, I looked over at my beloved son's face and almost wept. There, in eyes bright with excitement, the magic of the season glistened.
Christmas really is a magical time and this year, I have two, joyfully magical little imps to share this time, these moments. Sigh.
Life is good and I am very, very blessed, indeed.
Friday, December 12, 2008
Random Leprechaun Goodness
Luke:
Matthew's having a bit of a sleep-in this morning, as he was up for HOURS in the night. That leaves me and Lukey to fend for ourselves. As I chatted to him about getting cereal and going upstairs, I actually listened to his responses and I'll be damned if my li'l Menace isn't talking up a storm:
Me: Ok, Lukey, cereal and banana for breakfast?
Luke: Ananananan Me: Cheerios? Luke: Cheeeeeeeessseeeoooo
Me: Let's go upstairs then, shall we? It's warmer up there.
Luke: Uppy, uppy, uppy (as he hauls himself up the stairs, banana in hand)
Me: Can you close the door behind me, Luke?
Luke: Door! (Slams door)
Luke spies his juice cup, waiting to be filled with water and starts doing that impatient, shrieky toddler dance: "Dusss, Duuuusssss!"
And just now, I handed him his shoes and asked him to put them on the shoe shelf. So he sat down and tried to put one on his foot, mumbling, "Choo....choooo!"
He also says: What's dat, Who dat and Bye bye, love you!
Negligent mother that I am, I hadn't realized until JUST NOW that my little baby is talking. In words. REAL words.
Gah!!!
Matthew:
Saturday morning, woke up to Matthew stroking my face: "Mummy! It's our special day - get up!"
So, fed boys, fed Mark coffee and Matthew and I hit the road. Went to the mall, which under normal circumstance would be a nightmare, but it was just the two of us and we had a ball!
All he cared about was playing on the "ice cream truck" (one of those rides - he doesn't want it turned on, just plays in it) and play with Thomas the Train at the bookstore.
Got my eyebrows waxed ("Mummy, you look pretty!" ) and had a muffin at the food court, making up stories about strangers. This kid, he gets me....love him!
We held hands the WHOLE day and then, went to the movies!! Saw Madagascar II, held hands and ate popcorn. Midway through, he leaned his head on my shoulder, so I hoisted him onto my lap....bliss.
Luke and Daddy had a fab day at home, which was an added bonus. As we came through the door, Luke came rushing over, arms out. Double bliss!
Matthew asked me today if we can have another "Special Day" soon - yay!!
Matthew's having a bit of a sleep-in this morning, as he was up for HOURS in the night. That leaves me and Lukey to fend for ourselves. As I chatted to him about getting cereal and going upstairs, I actually listened to his responses and I'll be damned if my li'l Menace isn't talking up a storm:
Me: Ok, Lukey, cereal and banana for breakfast?
Luke: Ananananan Me: Cheerios? Luke: Cheeeeeeeessseeeoooo
Me: Let's go upstairs then, shall we? It's warmer up there.
Luke: Uppy, uppy, uppy (as he hauls himself up the stairs, banana in hand)
Me: Can you close the door behind me, Luke?
Luke: Door! (Slams door)
Luke spies his juice cup, waiting to be filled with water and starts doing that impatient, shrieky toddler dance: "Dusss, Duuuusssss!"
And just now, I handed him his shoes and asked him to put them on the shoe shelf. So he sat down and tried to put one on his foot, mumbling, "Choo....choooo!"
He also says: What's dat, Who dat and Bye bye, love you!
Negligent mother that I am, I hadn't realized until JUST NOW that my little baby is talking. In words. REAL words.
Gah!!!
Matthew:
Saturday morning, woke up to Matthew stroking my face: "Mummy! It's our special day - get up!"
So, fed boys, fed Mark coffee and Matthew and I hit the road. Went to the mall, which under normal circumstance would be a nightmare, but it was just the two of us and we had a ball!
All he cared about was playing on the "ice cream truck" (one of those rides - he doesn't want it turned on, just plays in it) and play with Thomas the Train at the bookstore.
Got my eyebrows waxed ("Mummy, you look pretty!" ) and had a muffin at the food court, making up stories about strangers. This kid, he gets me....love him!
We held hands the WHOLE day and then, went to the movies!! Saw Madagascar II, held hands and ate popcorn. Midway through, he leaned his head on my shoulder, so I hoisted him onto my lap....bliss.
Luke and Daddy had a fab day at home, which was an added bonus. As we came through the door, Luke came rushing over, arms out. Double bliss!
Matthew asked me today if we can have another "Special Day" soon - yay!!
Thursday, December 11, 2008
Christmas Memories
I was 21, living in Whistler, working two jobs, missing home. On Christmas Eve, I was working "turn-down service" at the Chateau Whistler: turn down beds, place water and chocolates on pillows, draw curtains, turn lights down low, etc.
I entered one room and was instantly overcome with a wave of homesickness so quick and sharp, that I started to cry. For real. Like a goober, I moved around this room, turning down and sniffling, missing my mum SO BADLY, it hurt.
Went into the bathroom to refresh the towels and there it was: L'Air du Temps perfume. My mum's scent.
Well. I must have stood there for 5 minutes, no joke, sniffing that bottle and crying and then laughing at my manic self. Didn't hear the door click open, nor anyone moving about the room until the guest came through the door, looking perplexed and a little bit scared.
I was able to stutter out an apology, swiping snot and tears across my face, before she called for security or something and moved past her to rush out. And then she spoke, this 60ish woman, with perfectly-coiffed, snow-white hair and laugh lines so deep, in an English accent.
Well, that did it. This was me, sobbing anew and stumbling over the towels and my basket of chocolates and treats: "My mum's English tooooooooooo...sniff, sniff, hiccup, "and you sound like her and you smell like her and I'm so, so sorry for sniffing your perfume, but I miss her sooooo.....hiccup, hiccup....much!"
And she just sat on her bed and patted the space next to her, saying, "Come and have a cuddle then, love" and I practically THREW myself into her arms and sat there, crying and laughing and feeling like an ass and feeling loved and cherished and like a moron, all at once.
And I'll be damned if I'm crying all over again, typing this out. Wow.
Upon check-out, my Christmas angel left a note, written in perfect cursive and a tiny, sample bottle of L'air du Temps.
"Dear Elizabeth, Thank you for giving an old woman a very special Christmas. I enjoyed our time together and will think of you, whenever I spy my perfume bottle, the last one given to me by my late husband.
God Bless you and your family.
J. Mairns."
Sniff.
I entered one room and was instantly overcome with a wave of homesickness so quick and sharp, that I started to cry. For real. Like a goober, I moved around this room, turning down and sniffling, missing my mum SO BADLY, it hurt.
Went into the bathroom to refresh the towels and there it was: L'Air du Temps perfume. My mum's scent.
Well. I must have stood there for 5 minutes, no joke, sniffing that bottle and crying and then laughing at my manic self. Didn't hear the door click open, nor anyone moving about the room until the guest came through the door, looking perplexed and a little bit scared.
I was able to stutter out an apology, swiping snot and tears across my face, before she called for security or something and moved past her to rush out. And then she spoke, this 60ish woman, with perfectly-coiffed, snow-white hair and laugh lines so deep, in an English accent.
Well, that did it. This was me, sobbing anew and stumbling over the towels and my basket of chocolates and treats: "My mum's English tooooooooooo...sniff, sniff, hiccup, "and you sound like her and you smell like her and I'm so, so sorry for sniffing your perfume, but I miss her sooooo.....hiccup, hiccup....much!"
And she just sat on her bed and patted the space next to her, saying, "Come and have a cuddle then, love" and I practically THREW myself into her arms and sat there, crying and laughing and feeling like an ass and feeling loved and cherished and like a moron, all at once.
And I'll be damned if I'm crying all over again, typing this out. Wow.
Upon check-out, my Christmas angel left a note, written in perfect cursive and a tiny, sample bottle of L'air du Temps.
"Dear Elizabeth, Thank you for giving an old woman a very special Christmas. I enjoyed our time together and will think of you, whenever I spy my perfume bottle, the last one given to me by my late husband.
God Bless you and your family.
J. Mairns."
Sniff.
Friday, October 3, 2008
Happy Birthday, Luke!
Sweet Angel, Luke!
Baby boy, tomorrow, you will be ONE! Whoosh, this year has gone and I am left breathless in its wake. Blessed, fullfilled and a little bit sad.
Darling Luke, before you were born, when I knew you as "Belly Bean" I worried that I wouldn't, couldn't ever love you the way I loved your brother. I worried that my heart couldn't, despite all advice to the contrary, expand to include another delightful, magical leprechaun.
And then, sweet son, I met you.
I met you and every worry I ever had flew clean out of my head and my heart simply whispered, "Hello, Luke. I've been waiting to love you for my whole, entire life."
My love for you, oh cherub-faced wonder, is quiet but fierce. You are indeed, my very soul and I believe that you were sent to be mine, especially. What a joy it will to discover you, Luke.
You are quick and funny and oh-so happy. I love your appetite for life, blue-eyed boy: from a rolly-legged baby to an engaging, wobbly-walkin' toddler, you bring such LIGHT to our lives. There is a lightness of spirit about you that simply beckons us, the ones who love you best, to sit awhile longer, cuddle a moment more.
Before you open your eyes, you are smiling. Before you've even seen your brother, you are smiling, knowing that he is almost upon us, in bed each morning. He waits, you see, to hear your morning shrieks and coos and then heads directly for your smile - we all do.
I love your determination and dramatic shrieks of laughter. Don't so much love the drama and gnashing of teeth that occurs when your temper flares, but it sure is funny! Yours is a fiery temper, Lukey Gavan, and assures me that life in your sphere will never be boring!
Sometimes, while nursing, you raise your eyes to mine and I believe that I can see God's face, reflected there...and I offer up a special thanks, for the gift of you.
Thank you for your patience and your humour. Thank you for your every giggle and the way you chortle "Wowowowowowoowowo!" when something strikes your fancy. The way you turn your face to press your mouth to mine, a silent, gentle kiss, for no reason. For placing your hand in mine, your trust in my love, your heart into my keeping.
I will keep yours close to mine, always.
I love you.
Mama
Baby boy, tomorrow, you will be ONE! Whoosh, this year has gone and I am left breathless in its wake. Blessed, fullfilled and a little bit sad.
Darling Luke, before you were born, when I knew you as "Belly Bean" I worried that I wouldn't, couldn't ever love you the way I loved your brother. I worried that my heart couldn't, despite all advice to the contrary, expand to include another delightful, magical leprechaun.
And then, sweet son, I met you.
I met you and every worry I ever had flew clean out of my head and my heart simply whispered, "Hello, Luke. I've been waiting to love you for my whole, entire life."
My love for you, oh cherub-faced wonder, is quiet but fierce. You are indeed, my very soul and I believe that you were sent to be mine, especially. What a joy it will to discover you, Luke.
You are quick and funny and oh-so happy. I love your appetite for life, blue-eyed boy: from a rolly-legged baby to an engaging, wobbly-walkin' toddler, you bring such LIGHT to our lives. There is a lightness of spirit about you that simply beckons us, the ones who love you best, to sit awhile longer, cuddle a moment more.
Before you open your eyes, you are smiling. Before you've even seen your brother, you are smiling, knowing that he is almost upon us, in bed each morning. He waits, you see, to hear your morning shrieks and coos and then heads directly for your smile - we all do.
I love your determination and dramatic shrieks of laughter. Don't so much love the drama and gnashing of teeth that occurs when your temper flares, but it sure is funny! Yours is a fiery temper, Lukey Gavan, and assures me that life in your sphere will never be boring!
Sometimes, while nursing, you raise your eyes to mine and I believe that I can see God's face, reflected there...and I offer up a special thanks, for the gift of you.
Thank you for your patience and your humour. Thank you for your every giggle and the way you chortle "Wowowowowowoowowo!" when something strikes your fancy. The way you turn your face to press your mouth to mine, a silent, gentle kiss, for no reason. For placing your hand in mine, your trust in my love, your heart into my keeping.
I will keep yours close to mine, always.
I love you.
Mama
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