Instead we went to the mall and got some Bourbon Street Grill, by the time we got home I ate it super quick and felt awful right away. I woke up a few times in the night, every time the sky was lit up by lightning non-stop. I'd say they made the right call cancelling that night of the Festival, as much as my husband and I missed hearing the sweet sounds of jazz and introducing our little one to another of the great Festivals held in Waterloo. There's always next year, as they say.
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Yesterday the babe and I spent the morning in Kitchener, as her dad and I had an appointment at 10:30 to see a Daycare Centre. We have a placement right now in a home daycare, with a lovely woman; but, as parents, we felt it was our duty to see what all the options are out there for our baby. So, when we received notice there was a spot at a YWCA sort of near our work, we figured we had better check it out.
This is hard; as I was waking up I had a whole statement in my head, perfectly worded, for this blog post. Knowing myself, I should have immediately sat up, found a pen, and took to paper. This is part of my writing problem these days, I cease to remember incredible lines or paragraphs that were floating through my mind only moments before. After having the babe, and even while pregnant, I feel as though the writer in me has been locked away in some cell and I cannot for the life of me find the key. Over the year I have, in my opinion, written some hauntingly, beautiful poems; since becoming pregnant my muse, or well, or whatever it may be, has been slowly drying up. It's enough to even try to keep this blog up-to-date; but, I am forcing myself, so I do not lose that creative, unique, passionate part of me. I look back on some of these blogs and think how banal. All they are is a rehashing of my day, with maybe one lyrical embellishment that appears out of nowhere and seems out of place, lame, and reaching. I am screaming on the inside for the poet to return. I have, maybe, written 4-5 poems since the birth of our baby, when in the past it would take less than an hour to grab hold of the words and spill them across a crisp, white page. What is wrong with me? Is it lack of time, is it pregnancy or motherhood brain, or have I lost the spark? I am terrified it is the last and I will never find that piece of me again. I will never again feel the current run through me, from heart to fingertips, as some emotional prose or poetry spreads out in black behind the flowing curve of the ballpoint pen. Am I lost? This is the last poem I wrote, around May of this year, and it was rejected (along with three others) by Poetry Magazine: A Hollow Space Left Those broken eyes Sad, lonely light to live with Candle wicks now fading Heart stolen with the evening wind A broken plate rests on the dark walnut floors Shattered pieces, disconnected memories An empty seat, impression in the cushion of something that should have lasted longer than a spark. A dangerous silence Calloused hands wrap around empty promises Cold food that would have been Could have been a beginning mid-book Tabletop filled with nothingness, desolate with tattered chords of maybes, then with a hollow aching goodbye. Longer than the slow motion swaying of a walk to and out the door. The click the only sound left, deafening Deafening...deafening…deafening I am tired of being helpless. I am going to send out a short story to a writing magazine in our area, and a children's book to a possible publisher. Wish me luck that my fickle muse will once again sit within the hollow, between my shoulder and my neck, to whisper sweet nothings until I spill them from my hands.
This past weekend my husband and I stayed around Waterloo, and we had a fantastic time! Friday night we spent around home; we took the little one to the park near our place for some swinging time. She loved it, especially when mommy started swinging beside her. The sun was setting and we were moving back and forth together, smiling and laughing at one another, a moment I will not soon forget.
Above is a photograph of one of the cookies my sister purchased from The Baykery in Barry's Bay. It was two chocolate chip cookies, held together by a delicious chocolate frosting. They were to die for!
Tuesday, before we left for the day, my husband whipped up some chili. He let it sit on the stove-top while we ventured out, so it could stew all day long. Instead of ground beef, he used ground chicken, which makes for more chunky and heartier portions of meat. He added kidney beans, canned diced tomato, pasta sauce, and tons of delicious peppers. With the chili we had garlic bread, our go to, as it is great for dipping and for scooping up the chili. It was a hit all around, brewed to perfection by the time we returned home from out adventures. Since the day was cooler, it made for great comfort food, and there was enough left over for lunch on Thursday.
At ten months old, our daughter is officially a spelunker! Thursday we made the decision to visit the Bonnechere Caves, as they weren't too far from where we were staying. My husband and I took the lead in our vehicle and decided to take a more direct route; turns out the direct route was under construction. At one point we had to wait for an excavator to move out of the small patch of road left, beside a cavernous hole, and smooth out the ground he had been on. Needless to say my teeth were clenched and my hands were firmly clasped around the door handle and my seat belt as my husband eased past the hole. However, after the perilous crossing we found CBC on the radio and were rewarded with some Vinyl Cafe; we listened to two stories about Dave and his father, my favourite being The Fish Head story. The route we took ended up not being too bad and getting us there in a good amount of time. The route back was also beautiful and we stopped to take photos of the landscape as it stretched out before us.
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TeganThis blog is about being a stay-at-home mom. Includes photos, meals, crafts, thoughts, and tons of other fun stuff! Blogs I love:
Living, Loving, and Laughing in the Loo A Baked Creation Melanie Makes The Party Wagon Fellow Fellow Lemon Jitters Fia Lotta Jansson Family Feedbag Dinner With Julie How About Orange Archives
March 2019
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