Isla says goodbye to being 2!

As of tomorrow, she will have been in my life for 3 years.

I sit here tonight, watching the snow fall and I remember that I was doing the same thing the night before she was born. I was checked in to the hospital and spent the night dreaming of her. What would she be like? Anticipation kept me awake.

She was born early that morning with a furrowed brow.

She was soft and smelled just heavenly.

She liked to cuddle right from the start and still does.

I can scarcely remember my life without her.

I kissed her goodnight tonight and pressed my cheek against her soft one. I closed my eyes and willed myself to remember this cuddle. In many years when she no longer wants my cuddles, or years beyond that when she is too far away for nightly "goodnights", will I remember our moment, cheek-to-cheek, my last cuddle with her two year old self? I hope so.

Tomorrow morning a three year old will bound into our lives and I will be grateful for her. But tonight, I am missing (just a little bit) my two year old baby.

Sitting on a Bench with my Dad

Sitting on a Bench with My Dad

Come and sit with me awhile.

Let me feel your arm around my shoulders,

Rest my head in the crook of your neck,

Breathe in the smell of you,

Remember what was once familiar.

Let's look together across the valley,

Sigh contentedly at the beauty before us,

Laugh at the funny things we cannot forget,

Talk about the times we had...the times you've missed since then.

Let me tell you about them, my precious ones.

Let time stand still.

Comfort me and calm my fears.

Tell me that you know all of these things and more,

That you see me.

You see them.

Tell me that you go on and I will too.

Come and sit with me awhile.

Sweet, Sweet Isla

She is growing so fast. She has gone from saying, "Mummy, want milk!" to "Mummy, I would like milk please." When did that happen? She is chatty and stubborn and insistent and lovely and frustrating and snuggly and exhausting and so so kissable. She pouts with her top lip and smiles with her whole face. She always asks for one more cuddle before I tuck her in and I have to admit, it is hard to let go sometimes.

Summer's End

This week I had to go back to work. Summer is officially over. I am not sad (I have a wonderful job), rather I am simply amazed again at how quickly time passes. It seems like only yesterday (indeed, it was my last post) that summer had only truly begun.

We had fun. My Mum flew over from Canada. We travelled. We went to the Badi. We had endless playdates and copious cuppas with good, good friends. It was a good summer.

The children grew so much. Isla, nearing the end of her 2 years, seemed to lose even more of her babyness, and Max, oh Max. How can I describe the difficult "in-between" he found himself in. He is, for the first time, testing me. Each day he sees how far he can push me. I get it. He starts school on Monday and he's never been before. It is daunting. With each challenge he gives me, I think that maybe, if I am careful, his stubbornness will one day develop into determination. Maybe. Hopefully.

finally...summer!

A life without love is like a year without summer. ~Swedish Proverb

Here in Switzerland we have had weeks and weeks of endless grey skies and rain. It has been a dull June and we have been eagerly anticipating the blue skies and long, luscious days of summer. This weekend our wait was over. Summer arrived resplendent and glorious...it did not disappoint.

When we woke up and saw the sun, we fairly ran for the lake. It was glorious to feel the warmth of the sun on our skin and, as I looked out across the water, I got a little bit teary. I am always dazzled by the beauty of where I live but perhaps due to the dreary weather we have been experiencing lately, I was especially moved by the magnificence around me. It was sublime.


We stayed for hours. We read books and chatted but mostly, we just watched our children play. Ah...the long, lazy days of summer. Each one stretching out before us, endless with possibility. I am filled with gratitude!

There shall be eternal summer in the grateful heart. ~Celia Thaxter

The Grandma I Never Really Knew

I never really knew my Grandma Gibson, my Mum's Mum. She died before I was old enough to collect many memories. Mostly, I remember the day she died. It was the first time I had ever seen my Mum cry. I remember how she gathered us in her arms and I remember being scared. I remember the big, checkered, green armchair that we sat in as she held us.

How horrible it must have been for my Mum. She was so far away from Scotland when she got the news. She must have felt so alone.

I have seen lots of pictures of her...Jessie. Jessie Gibson. She looked liked someone I would like a lot. She had a genuine smile and looked like a grandma who would give lots of cuddles. I remember in one photograph, she was wearing the coolest cats eye glasses. We were playing in the paddling pool in her back garden. In that photo, I am younger than Isla is now. How much she has missed. How much I want to talk to her and tell her about my life and ask about hers. I want to know about my Mum from her Mum. I want to hear stories. So much is lost.

She had cancer. When I was little they told me that she died in her sleep, just never woke up. It sounded so peaceful that I never gave it a second thought. Now though, now when I think about her death, I think about how she must have suffered. How she must have worried about her daughters, one in England and one in Canada. Both far away. She must have longed for them to be near. How hard it must have been for my Mum to grieve so far from home. To get up and put on a brave face. We didn't know. We were too young. She didn't fly to Scotland for the funeral. She didn't get to say goodbye that way.

So much about my Grandma Gibson seems cut short. My information about her doesn't do her life justice. I must find out more about her so when Isla comes to me and asks about her Great Grandma Gibson I can sit her on my lap and tell her some stories. Stories about a good woman who died too young but left a legacy of love behind.

My little snail...my aching heart

Max has taken to "reading" before he falls asleep. He piles oodles of books in his bed before we tuck him in. I usually find them hanging precariously on the edge of the bed when I go in to turn off the little light. Tonight, I went in and he was sound asleep in the middle of the bed, curled up like a little snail shell. It made my heart skip a beat as he used to sleep that way when he was a newborn. I have pictures of him at the bottom of my hospital bed, curled up just so...

How sneaky time is...giving me day after luscious day with my family and then smacking me across the face with how quickly it has past. I don't feel my life rushing by. I savour the moments, I appreciate what I have. And still time comes, giving with one hand and stealing with the other.

I scarcely notice it but every now and then I will catch a glimpse of the past that I have forgotten and my breath will catch and my mind will reel...

I am so grateful. I am full of joy and full of praise for what I have been given. Is it possible that a heart can break from being too full?

I Just Called...

Max has a toy telephone. There are two receivers and they are like walkie talkies. You simply push a button for the other phone to ring and when the person with the other receiver picks up, you can talk to them! Simple but HOURS of fun have been had since I picked them up at flea market last weekend.

Tonight, after the kids were tucked in, Josh and I were relaxing. He, on the computer and I, reading my ESL homework for a course I'm taking. In the background we heard a phone ring. I smiled. I knew who was calling me. I picked up Max's phone receiver.

"Hello?"

"Hi Mummy, it's me"

"How can I help?"

"I forgot to tell you something Mummy. I forgot to tell you how much I love you. I love you." "I love you too... goodnight sweet boy."

"Okay, bye!"

Do I really deserve this gorgeous creature in my life?

Lx

5

What a beautiful thing that happened, 5 years ago.

You changed me so completely.

I love you.

Across the Universe

As I take a moment to gaze in wonder at the night sky,

I think about the universe and

Feeling so small

I delight in the simplest of exercises, long practiced in the school rooms of my youth.

My pen veritably dancing and seductively drawing me in.

Letters are formed out of habit, flowing like waves out of my fingers,

Filling up the paper, transforming it from cellulose pulp into

A defining sense of self.

Lesley Armstrong

Easter sweet things

We got up very early in the morning because, as I have explained in previous posts, my kids never, ever sleep in. Max padded into our bedroom and whispered in my ear, "Is it morning? Can we get up? I saw a trail Mummy, he's been!" And so, it began. Easter morning.

Max took his basket with purpose and began to pick up each sweetie as if it was a race to get to the end. Isla looked at each and every choccie as though it were a present in itself and exclaimed, in a very surprised voice as she dropped them in her basket and looked down, "Mummy, NOTHER one!!!!!" Over and over and over.

I am very reflective at this time of year and I couldn't help but look at my two gorgeous ones and consider the way they approached their Easter trails and relate it to life in general. Do I race for the big presents? Do I, like Max, take the sweeties for granted? Just pile them up and look at them as the means to an end? Or, like Isla, is each sweetie admired and adored? Am I grateful and filled with wonder as the sweet things just keep on coming?

How much I can learn from these two lovelies!

Lego and The Easter Tree

Architect: Max Armstrong

Chief Engineer: Max Armstrong

Master Builder: Max Armstrong

Demolitions Expert: Isla Armstrong

Our Easter Tree:

Soft pussy willows - check

Delicate pastel eggs - check

Sunshine girl - check

Goings on...

Cluck cluck Isla and Doggy Isla...

Max's first story ever! "One day the Daddy saw a rainbow."

One Day At A Time

Being a part-time working Mum is tricky. I enjoy my job but I feel guilty for being away from my kids. I hate being away from them and yet, my family needs my income.

Monday is my favourite day. We wake up early (my kids wake up early every.single.day.without.fail.even.on.holidays.) and take our time. We play, we chat, we eat, we have our 'cuppas'. Isla and I walk Max down to his Spielgruppe around 9:00 and then we meander back. Sometimes we stop for a fresh bun at the bakery but sometimes we don't. We get home and have lovely Isla/Mummy time. We sing, dance and clean together. She tells me stories and I tell her some back. At 11:00 we walk down and get Max. On the way home he is full of what he did at Spielgruppe that morning and how he is "starving" and couldn't possibly wait until we get home in 5 minutes and eat something. We get home and snack a bit while we make lunch. After lunch, Isla and Max play together because all too soon, Isla goes for her nap and me and Max have quiet time. Max chooses this time of day to plug into the techno-geek inside himself. He and I play computer games or his Daddy's DS. We craft and bake and eat cookie dough. Sometimes, we go outside and I watch him ride his bike. When Isla wakes up we all go to the park if the weather is good. We walk Max down the hill to the local school at 2:15 for his Rythmik 1 Music class and go back at 3:00 to pick him up (I go up and down the hill a lot on Monday! Phew!) Josh comes home soon after that and makes dinner and we wind down the day with games and a little TV. I put them to bed feeling sad that Monday is over. I'm not saying it is perfect...we have the 3 t's on Monday too (tears, tantrums and time-outs) but Mondays are usually the kind of days that I thought I would have when I imagined being a Mum. Tuesdays are good too but we don't go into the village much. Wednesday, Thursday and Friday are my working days and then comes the glorious weekend.

I try and take every day as it comes and find good things in each day, even when I am not doing exactly what I want to be doing. One day at a time...sage advice indeed.

What is in a name? Part 2

Isla Lucia. My lovely girl. She was never going to be Isla, she was going to be Annika. Annika Poppy. I love that name. It makes me smile even now...but it's not 'her'.

I was 7 months pregnant when my Dad died. Suddenly it became very important to me that her name honour him in some way. It needed to be Scottish and it needed to be beautiful. Dad's name was Ian. The female version of Ian is (wait for it...) Ianina. Nobody I know has heard of this name. A few people suggested Ina (eena) but it seemed wrong somehow. I looked for female Scottish names that started with "I". I found 3 that I liked: Isla, Iona and Irene. Irene is already in my family and Josh didn't like Iona as he thought it sounded like "I own a..." and wouldn't go with lots of last names.

So, we thought about Isla. It sounded like music to me, and still does. It means island and there is an island off the coast of Scotland called Islay, pronounced Isla (eye-la) too.

She was due to be born on December 12th. Around this date at my school, we always celebrate the Scandinavian Christmas tradition of Santa Lucia due to a large population of Scandinavian students. It is a truly magical event, made even more special by Lucia being a Swedish opera singer who lives nearby in Luzern. The candles, the music, the smells of the food and Glugg...it is just very, very special.

Lucia (we pronounce it Loo-see-ah), means light and that is precisely what my wee girl brought to me. She was and is light in a dark time. She is the grandchild my Dad never met and yet she is so much like him. Whether she is being "sm-Isla" or "cr-Isla" we love her passion and will make sure she knows all about the Papa she got it from, the Papa she was named for.

What is in a name?

Max. Just Max. I love that name. Not Maxwell or Maximilian, just Max. It is strong and gentle at the same time. He could be anything and Max will suit him well. He has two middle names: Josef Fraser. Max Josef Fraser. I wanted desperately to hyphen Max-Josef but my hubby didn't like it. Josef is the name of our first landlord here in Switzerland. He is called 'Sepp' and so he and his wife called Max, Max-Seppi for a while. I liked that. The name will always remind me of those first few years here in this wonderful place. The cozy nights in our little apartment, looking out over the hills to the mountains. Fraser is a family name, the Scottish clan that my Father's family (Sim) belongs to.

He wasn't going to be Max. He was going to be Ewan. Max was a last minute choice...a silent favourite of mine that had been dismissed early on. We decided on it during a "9 month walk". You know, the walk you take when you are 9 months pregnant and the last thing you feel like doing is going for a walk. The walk you take because everyone tells you that it will bring on labour...that walk. He became my little Maxi-moo.

He's my first. The first child in our own little family, the first and only boy in the Sim family. Now he's the big brother and my little man. Max means "the best". He really, really is.

He's me.

This week Max had ski lessons on the mountain near our house. I am, at this moment, so proud of him for making it through the week. He is me. He has all my anxiety and fear of the unknown. I knew it would take him some time to get used to the whole skiing thing so I purposely signed him up for a whole week rather than a weekend of lessons. By the time he would be comfortable and ready to take risks, the weekend would be over. I've never said, "don't give up", "keep going" and "I'm proud of you" so many times in my life. The truth is that I couldn't care less about the skiing, I was just so proud of him for seeing it through even though every single fibre of his shy, tentative little being wanted to just quit. I was also kind of proud of myself that I didn't let him quit. Yeah me. Yeah us.

scary

I normally feel quite 'in control' of myself. I never used to be. When I was younger, I suffered from severe anxiety and used to have panic attacks brought on by worries about dying and nuclear war. Heavy stuff. As a parent, I'm sure I would be the most anxious woman alive were it not for the balance in my life...my husband. He really calms me down and keeps me from worrying about the things I cannot control. He's good that way...just what I need, like he was made for me.

The only time I panic now is when the kids are sick. Isla just got over 2 days of throwing up and Max just started. It makes me realize how small and vulnerable they are. I let my imagination run away with me and pray for their health and well being with every breath. I find it no less than heart-breaking to imagine what having a child with a serious/chronic/terminal illness must be like. It must be excruciating and so very very scary.

An ode to Josh for my new i phone

itunes

iphoto

ipod

imovie

idvd

ihappy

ivalentines

iday

ithankyou

iam

iphone

iluvyou

V-day? Where?!

Valentines Day.

It feels funny when you're not in North America because it's kind of "no big deal". There are a few shops with displays but nothing too commercial or overwhelming. I like it.

Strength

I am one of the strongest people I know. I'm not saying that to be conceited in any way, it is just true. In one way, I wish I was the kind of person who needed looking after. A delicate flower, rather than a Steel Magnolia (if you will pardon the reference but I sort of like to wish that I was in that movie;-).

People crowd around the delicate ones, holding them up, offering support and generally keeping them together. I think that would be nice.

Envy x 7

Envy denotes a longing to possess something awarded to or achieved by another.

Someone I know (and have never met) is having a baby. I am following her pregnancy on her blog. Every few days I check her status to read how her midwife appointments went and how she feels about this new life joining her family. She is so eloquent and I feel often that her words have touched my life so profoundly that they have changed who I am.

Someone I know (and have met) is having a baby. She is an incredible woman who is so much like the woman I wish I was. I fall short but am thankful for the inspiration. What a lucky baby that little one is!

Four people I know (and work with) are having their first babies. It reminds me of my first years in Switzerland and the 'wave' of pregnancies at that time, including mine. Expecting your first child is such a special thing.

Someone I know (and do pilates with) is having a baby. She looks like she is carrying a delicious secret. She has 3 little girls and knows what the sex of this next one is but isn't telling anyone. I remember finding out that Isla was a girl, even though I didn't really want to. I loved holding that information in my heart and having it just for me. It was as if she and I were fooling everyone together.

Happy envy. Each and every one. Happy, happy envy. I want it for myself but until that time, should it ever come, I will rejoice in the babies being welcomed into other families and be thankful for my own naughties.

Peas in a Pod

Is there anything nicer than a sister or brother?

I love how Max wants to look after Isla and show her things.

I also love how Isla looks up to Max and wants to do everything he does.

When I see them playing I am reminded of the Bugs Bunny cartoon with the big bulldog (Max) who struts down the street with a little yappy dog (Isla) jumping up around him and practically begging to do the bulldog's bidding.

A Cup of Kindness

Should auld acquaintance be forgot,
And never brought to mind?
Should auld acquaintance be forgot,
And auld lang syne!

For auld lang syne, my dear,
For auld lang syne.
We'll take a cup o' kindness yet,
For auld lang syne.

I love New Year.

I love the idea of starting fresh, of being full of hope and the promise of things to come.

I never let January 1st slip by without making some new year's resolutions.

For what they are worth...here they are (perhaps sharing them will help me keep them):

1. This is the year of German. I WILL learn to speak German better than I do now. I will practice my vocabulary and try really, really hard to understand the rules of German grammar. I will make a greater effort if, for no other reason, than to seem worthy to my Swiss friends and neighbors who are shocked and horrified that I have lived here for 7 years and still can't proficiently speak the language.

2. I will learn to sew. My Mum is coming for a month in the summer and it shall be the summer of sewing. Don't plan on seeing me on Project Runway anytime soon but I may be able to hem trousers and curtains and make some dolly clothes.

3. I will talk less and listen more. (This should actually be number 1, if we are listing them in order of importance)

If you would all please raise your glasses for a toast...

Here's to times gone by. Here's to friends and family who are gone but not forgotten and lastly, here's to tomorrow and the promise of a fresh start.