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?