happy holidays

our christmas tree... piled high with beautiful gifts from our friends near and far. thank you for these amazing presents... and above all for your presence in our lives. we are so very blessed.

whether celebrating kwanzaa, hanukkah, christmas or simply ringing in 2010... there is something magical about this time of year. there is a warmth in the air (or perhaps that's just cuz we don't have snow here in Bogota). No, i really do believe that if we can escape the commerce of it all, there is something that happens this time of year which opens our hearts... we are more willing to be patient, to forgive, to open our hearts. And as we anticipate the dawning of a new year we are eager to make amends and commit to resolutions. For me this opening is quite special and I relish the generosity that pours out (sometimes from the most unlikely sources). In our home, there is definitely a sense of Christmas-time... and now with two little girls the idea of gifts and giving has taken on a whole new meaning. For weeks I was asking Isabel what she wants for Christmas, and her answer was always the same: "A little angel baby for Anaïs, but it must be soft to snuggle." Finally, she came up with her wish: bunk beds... to get ready for when her sister is old enough to move into her room. Yesterday the bunk beds arrived and Isabel was jumping for joy. And so were we waking up this morning to find that Isabel slept from 8pm until 7am this morning with no wake-ups... for our alert little girl that is a record!! We are now convinced these beds really have come from Santa Claus and are sprinkled with fairy dust... and we are hopeful it does not wear off after the first night of purchase.

Isabel also enjoyed packing gifts... which was not always easy to accomodate when I tried to get everything done. Yet, as always, she forced me to slow down... so the wrapping was not always pretty or perfect... it was done with love and laughter. I am amazed at how often I forget this very simple message. I will begin running around and trying to 'get everything done'... and throughout the process I will have a little helper at my feet eager to offer her support each step fo the way... and at times instead of stopping and engaging her enthusiasm, I distract her with other things so that I can get 'my stuff' done more quickly. And when I pause, and reflect for a moment, I feel sad with my own choice... for I have missed an opportunity to share in the magic of the season. The lesson at that moment is clear... with each new day there is a new chance to do things differently. No matter what choices we made yesterday, we can make a fresh choice today and tomorrow. That feeling, that lesson is a part of the magic of this season for me. Looking forward with anticipation.

a day of firsts...

Anaïs flying high with a big smile

Today Isabel ate cotton candy for the first time with her good friend Morwyn at Andres Carne de Res restaurant in Chia (just outside of Bogota). In the evening after Anaïs went to sleep the rest of us all watched the first 30-minutes of mary poppins together (a first for Isabel). Having mastered crawling and tired of walking around attached to mama/papa, Anaïs is now practicing walking. She does so with a lot of hand movement (perhaps thinking that if she 'flaps her arms like a bird' that will somehow help her walk) and very wobbly knees thus usually ending up falling on her bum or forward into a crawl (or mama's arms or the bed...and occasionally a harder surface). Anaïs now boasts four teeth, but not in the expected order, making for a very cute and lop-sided smile as she waits for the third top tooth to come out and balance out the large front tooth and smaller side tooth already filling her mouth. As the girls move through the various stages of their development the old saying that 'time flies' becomes very clear in my mind. I am amazed at how quickly the phases pass by, and yet at times the days seem neverending. I am not sure how that can be so... when something difficult appears on our path and I feel overwhelmed or uncertain it feels as if the challenge stretches out into days when only a few moments have passed. And then as I reflect on the many changes I am at times almost surprised that before me stand a three year old and ten month old. I am, as always, reminded of how precious each moment is... and how fruitless the feelings of doubt, fear and frustration are that often creep into my mind and my heart. Even in the most difficult moments there is a ray of light and a sparkle of hope... and it always passes by in a flash, so long as we let it go. As Anaïs takes her first steps and begins to form words; I see her walking into the world with passion, determination and enthusiasm - for this is how she approaches each task - and laughter in her soul. As Isabel watches her first movie, enjoys tasty sweets, gets her face painted and dances with her friends, I see her embracing the world with an open, tender heart and a charming disposition that lights up a room. And in the moments when I am frustrated with the unending series of what seem to be constantly repeating questions, or the on-going nightly wake-ups and false-starts to sleepyland... I am also inspired to remember that healthy doses of laughter and patience can help to keep even the most difficult situation in perspective.

Isabel & Morwyn getting ready to dance at Andres (restaurant in Chia)

friends always welcome

my dear, dear friend Ania and her partner John came to visit us for a few days this week... what a joy it was to have them here!! Their visit was a blessing in so many ways that I am short on words to express the extent of gratitude I feel for their presence. Upon arrival they showered us all with gifts... spoiling both girls with beautiful outfits and toys that matched their hearts desires. Isabel now proudly owns a beautiful medical bag which she carries around to visit all her 'patients' (the many dolls and stuffed toys around the house). Ania & John bravely explored various parts of the city, made friends along the way, and never once let our cautionary tales slow them down from seeing something new. Their excitement and eagerness to wander into new areas was refreshing, and I loved hearing their stories at the end of each day... about delicious meals, people they met, and new things they wanted to see tomorrow. They approached each day with a sense of wonder that I am used to seeing only in my own children. In the evenings I felt totally spoiled to share tea (or wine) and warm conversation with them both... laughing about old memories, dreaming about the future, analyzing the way we do things, sharing stories about our daily lives. The time passed by far too quickly than I expected as I craved more chats with my dear friend. When they left I was filled with boundless gratitude for the time they gave us... it was the greatest gift I could have hoped for, at a time when I needed it more than I even realized. To have in my home a friend who 'knows my heart'... a friend I do not need to explain things to or build bridges with... a friend with whom I can be totally transparent... and just be. At their parting I was also left with a sense of emptiness... realizing with full force just how much I miss my friends, my family, my sounding board, my thermometer of reason. The gratitude far outweighs the emptiness... and it is a strong reminder of the things that matter most.

Thank you Ania & John... above all for sharing your time and for making our home feel more like home with your presence. What a gift you have given to me, to the girls, to our family.

forgiveness

Today, Isabel taught me about the strength, simplicity and ease of forgiveness... in a way that only a three year old could. I have found our re-adjustment to life in Colombia much more difficult than I had expected... I guess being home with family/friends this summer was a reminder of the community of support that we have... and especially as a stay-at-home-mom, it is much more difficult ot find that same kind of connectivity in a 'far away land'. I am slowly easing into our life and finding a small network of women with shared views on life, parenting and everyday escapades. This is certainly helping; and doing it for what feels like the 'second time around' I remember how time helps me settle into this new reality. However, the challenges of creating a 'home away from home' have further emphasized the pitfalls (and joys) brought about along the journey of motherhood and having two young children demanding my all. The girls seem to both give me my biggest highs, and also at times drain more energy and patience than I think I am capable of offering. Yet, in the end, it is always a lesson... an opportunity for growth, and expansion of love. And this morning was no exception... I found myself losing my patience with Isabel as she demanded more and more attention at a moment when I was trying to focus on nursing Anais. When suddenly the counting stopped worked and my breathing seemed to come to a halt and my patience was left behind in the dust somewhere between reason and emotion. In this moment, it was me acting like an immature two year old wanting everything to be as I wanted, rather than simply as it was. As the tone of my voice shifted and my tolerance seemed to disappear, I saw my temperament reflect back at me through the eyes of my three year old daughter as her smile dropped and her face expressed sadness. She ran out of the room without a word. I was able to feed Anais and settle her to sleep (so, i guess i got what i wanted - i gained some sense of control over the situation), but my heart felt heavy and I knew that I could have handled that differently. As soon as I put Anais in her crib I walked over to Isabel's room... she looked at me still with a hint of sadness. It told her I was sorry... I didn't really know what else to say cuz an explanation seemed meaningless and pointless. She acknowledged my apology with a hug and said: "It's okay mama. We can work on being patient together." She paused, and then looked at me again: "Do you want to play?" And with that, she moved on. No harboured emotions, no lengthy explanations. It was simply a bad moment, a lack of judgement... but it was over. The feelings were acknowledged and now we could move on and be in the moment again. Forgiveness... pure, simple, clear.

thanksgiving...

Happy Thanksgiving (of the Canadian variety) to everyone... near and far. This year I am deeply grateful for so many things in my life... above all my amazing family... my beautiful girls and my wonderful husband. I continually find myself in awe at how my girls inspire me to grow... and even more at how they shower me with pure unconditional love... for no reason other than because i am their mama. I have done nothing to earn their trust and yet they shower me with adoration without reservation. It is a constant lesson in love... in its simplicity and abundance. The support of my husband... it is like a blanket, a foundation that rests beneath my feet, a knowledge that this support will always be there no matter where the world might take us, an assurance that home is exactly where we are so long as we are together. I am thankful for my friends and family... those who are far away and know my heart intimately. Thank you for showering me with your words (by email or letters), for the beautiful packages sent in the mail that are like a warm hug, for knowing me even across the miles and thus allowing me to remember myself. And for the friends who are near... being here in this home away from home, sharing ideas and experiences, coming up with new yoga poses, bringing laughter into my life with your presence. This thanksgiving, I am thankful for love, for joy, for peace, for belly laughs. I am thankful for life.

strength...

Courage does not always roar. Sometimes, courage is the quiet voice at the end of the day, saying, "I will try again tomorrow." ~ Mary Anne Radmacher

My guess is that few mothers would disagree that the change which takes place in the early years of motherhood is challenging... sprinkled with doubts, fears, hesitation, uncertainty, sheer (and almost unexpected) exhaustion, and also layered with a love so intense it can topple you over. At times, the intensity of it all can be so overwhelming I am not sure whether to laugh or cry... though as often as possible I try to choose to laugh (so much more empowering). I am certain that the journey continues to be filled with its ups and downs... as life itself. Yet, there is something remarkably life-changing in these early years. It is as if an existential shift occurs (or at least there is an opportunity for one) as we move from being an individual, to becoming a parent. All of a sudden there is another being who is fully and completely dependant on us, and the pact we make to be their parent creates a full time job with no coffee/tea breaks.

For me, this shift has been life altering in so many ways; and at the same time, it feels as if it has simply been a journey to finding myself. At first I found myself resisting the changes - not always in the obvious ways of resistance, but often in the second-guessing and insecurities of my actions. I would find myself constantly feeling as I needed to defend my choices. And as I reflect back on the last few years, I realise that this has simply been a lesson to finding my own courage and my own confidence. Before being a mom, I would often doubt my ability to do things, second guess my decisions, and far too often defer to a person I placed in some spotlight of authority (whether real or fictitious). Yet, when facing another human being who is here solely because of the fact that I wished her to be on this earth as my child... all of the external rules/guidelines and expertise faded away. All that mattered was the wisdom in this child (and now children)... the wisdom with which they seem to be born... inherent in their being. And despite this truth, the path was not easy, and continues to have pot-holes and gravel along the way.

There continue to be so many moments when I feel lost and wonder how a certain day, night, hour, or instant of time will pass as I deal with sleeplessness, tenacity, curiousity, fear, joy, tears... all coming from one amazing three year old and another exceptional seven-month old. I wonder how I will find a 'balance' in all the expectations coming from inside and outside of my family and of me. I search of answers and guides; and sometimes I stumble with excuses for not being engaged in this or that. And then there are the moments of stillness... looking in the eyes of my children as they share a giggle with each other, watching them sleeping peacefully, seeing the sheer joy on their faces inspired by something totally ordinary that suddenly takes on an extraordinary meaning... and I realise that my strength comes from them. The more time I spend with my children and with my family, the closer I come to the truth of who I am. It is a journey based in love and it is not always easy. But it is worth each step, and every single stumble. And as I walk it, they teach me to be present, to be mindful, to be grateful, to be joyful, to be curious, to be patient, to be compassionate, to be loving, to be honest... and above all, simply to be.

So yes, motherhood is hard... the lack of sleep alone is enough to want to reverse gears; the shift from doing 'whatever we want' to simply enjoying what is; the desire to control replaced by the reality of letting go and letting things flow; the transformation is profound and the lessons are huge. And we all find our way, and the things that seem so difficult at any given moment pass and get replaced with new things... our memories of the challenges fade and the magic grows.

For me, the moments when I feel most vulnerable, the moments when I feel most alone, the moments when I feel I can't go on... they seem to pass immediately the instant i release my expectations and become engaged in what is... the fastest way to getting there is being with my girls.

dia del amor y la amistad

So, the reality is that the last couple of months have been filled with ups and downs... perhaps even the last year. Moments of total loss and confusion. They have also been fully lived with everydays that make up the majority of my memories. Yet, when I reflect honestly I can admit that the transition to our 'new life' in Bogota was not an easy one. The learning curve was steep -- especially for me and for Isabel in those early months. And what caused me the most strife is not at all what I expected... I suppose that is part of why it was most difficult, because it challenged my expectations. Letting go and letting flow is much easier in theory than in practice... trusting that all will be well when it feels like things are in turmoil is a mighty difficult order. We know it to be true; but living it is a whole other matter. And the irony is the more we focus on the challenges the more they seem to 'challenge us'.

I still remember how hard it was for me to 'get used to' having someone coming to our house to clean, cook, laundry, iron, etc. In theory this should have felt like such a blessing. Yet in reality it left me feeling totally out of place in my own home. Obviously I relished in the opportunity to be with Isabel rather than take care of the chores... but I also felt totally out of sync in my own reality. I had always been used to doing everything. At the same time, I slowly felt myself losing control over my surroundings... being in a new culture, country, city, community, home... and so was desperate to regain it in the things I knew - like managing the details of my house. I was surprised to find how annoyed and critical I felt of the way things were being done... not because they were not done right, just differently... and I realise now that I was up to my ears with 'different'. In retrospect I can hardly believe that I actually felt burdened by our housekeeper... yet it was something tangible to 'hold on to' during a time of huge change.

The other piece that shocked me was just how hard the transition was for Isabel. Looking at her now you'd never know she had a fear in the world... she is easy going and happy to be wherever life takes her. But when we first arrived, we went through months of sleepless nights/days, tears, nightmares, shyness and so on... all expressions of her displacement. All I remember was hearing how easy it is for kids... and then when it wasn't easy, I did not know what to do. I felt totally unprepared. So, I did the only thing I know how to do... I loved, I listened, I accepted, and I trusted her, thus allowing her to take the lead on the journey. The investment of time has paid off a thousand-fold as I watch her totally at ease and full of joy in her new home. I realise now that one of the things that was most difficult for Isabel was not being able to communicate with anyone around her... even friends she met at the park. Of course, it all seems ancient history now, and in the big picture kids really to adjust so quickly. She is now speaking fluent Spanish with perfect conjugations while I still struggle to ask someone how their day is going and then actually try to understand the response!! But even though the time of adjustment can be shorter, the intensity of it is just as real and difficult... even for a two year old.

As I look back, I definitely can admit that I hit a low-point in my personal transition at the very end of 2008, with New Year's Eve being the most challenging day/night for me. And then, like magic, I remember a shift... the winds changed and a new light seemed to give me strength from within. There were still hard days, but it's as if they were fading into the background and the breauty was able to flow. It still was not always easy... and things again got difficult when Anaïs was about two months... unexpected troubles with breastfeeding and a turn for worse sleeping habits emerging. And then, just as it seemed like I was getting used to our life here we went home... and then all of a sudden I felt at odds with everything all over again.

About half-way through our trip to Canada I started to feel totally lost and unsettled... not to mention exhausted!! It was nothing in particular, and yet everything all at once. The littlest thing could tip me over and I felt my patience completely depleted. And perhaps the worst of it was my own inability to identify what was causing my discomfort. Then of course we came back to our home in Bogota and it felt like nothing was lining up as it should... everything piled up into one big ball of frustration.

Thankfully, I continued to find strength in the moments shared with my family... but as the time went on I felt less myself and more lost. I kept trying to hold on to some kind of a cause... a reason for my discomfort.

And then, I found hope... I realized that I don't need to find a reason. I realised that I did not need to analyse the details. I realised that I could just 'let go'. Oh, scary as it might seem... all of a sudden there was nothing left to control. For it did not matter... it would pass... it always does.

In the meantime, there is nothing that needs to be fixed or changed... just a moment to be, and a time to learn... perhaps learn to be.

today is the dia del amor y la amistad (colombian 'valentine's/friendship day')... and we enjoyed a magical day as a family doing absolutely nothing... this is my hope and this is my serenity... it is my courage and it is my strength.

Along with the friends and family both near and far who offer support in so many beautiful ways... sometimes even when they don't realize it. And yet I always find a little fortune in the most unexpected sources.

So, today, on this day of love and friendship... i am grateful for all of those who fill my world with love and friendship...

Three years old today!!!

Isabel could hardly sleep all night... waking up frequently to ask "am i three (flee) yet?"

It was hard to get frustrated at the lack of sleep when she was so positively adorable. She came running into our bedroom singing "happy birthday to me" as soon as the sun came out. We spent a bit of time cuddling in bed, and then opened a couple of presents. At 7am, our friend Noëlla came by to drop off a beautiful box of treats for Isabel and give the birthday girl a hug. She even brought chocolates which Isabel first put aside, and then decided she wanted one for breakfast... who can blame her?!?!

After a real breakfast Isabel picked out a pretty outfit, said 'bye' to papa and then was ready to 'run' off to school. She is having so much fun... and when she arrived at Malaquita she was greeted with hugs and smiles and all the kids sang feliz compleaños (first in Spanish, then in English). We went to pick Isabel up at lunch and she was jumping with sheer joy... but also exhausted. Lunch and a nap... and then papa came home early so we could have birthday cake together... and of course some more gifts. We will be having a birthday party on Saturday morning to celebrate with more of Isabel's friends and look forward to the fun!!

Anaïs was also happy to be celebrating the day, but she could not quite understand what all the fuss was about... until, of course, the birthday cake came out and she eagerly wanted to eat some too!!! Thanks to all of you for the beautiful messages (and gifts) sent to Isabel today. It is amazing to watch our little girl grow... she is so amazing!!! When she was saying goodnight to her sister she also wanted Anaïs to know that she will be an even better big sister as she gets older.

As she was going to bed she talked all about her fun day... and we ended the day opening a new playmobil set from Nana -- Isabel was so happy. It's incredible to reflect on these last few years and embrace all the changes. Isabel has challenged us to grow in ways that we never even expected... at times pushing us to our limits, but always inspiring us to be better parents and better people. Happy birthday big girl!! We love you!!!

Spoiled...

There is no question that establishing a 'home' abroad is riddled with challenges and many moments of isolation and loneliness. It is also full of opportunities for profound growth and opening of gateways that we never even knew existed. Over the last year that we have been living in Bogota I have felt my emotions travel across so many peaks and valleys -- sometimes I am surprised at the shifts my mood can take as I work through the transitions. I suppose being a mama of two young children adds yet another layer of complexity to this experience... along with the lack of sleep that seems to go hand-in-hand with parenthood (at least for us). To be certain, the exhaustion does take its toll and likely makes the intensity of the emotions even stronger than they might be with a well rested mind and body. But the truth is that being away from family and friends, and all that we know is not easy. Suddenly, the network that is our family unit becomes a much stronger source of support (and at times tension) -- for there is so much pressure placed upon the connection between each person in the unit. The broader community upon which we rely in our 'homeland' is no longer within easy reach... and while emails and phone calls are a necessity to get by, they cannot always make up for the void of physical contact and just 'knowing' that you can have a face to face visit if you need/want to.

The biggest learning for me was watching how powerful the displacement is upon young children. I can still hear the echos of the phrase: "kids adjust so easily" ringing in my mind. It seemed it was all I heard prior to our departure. And then when we arrived in Colombia I was shocked to find just how hard the move was for Isabel -- she was just about to turn two. Thankfully she was a wonderful communicator and we were able to talk about the changes, and we found the words and the space to express her thoughts and her feelings, to give names to the experience. To be honest, the first three months were more difficult than I could have imagined... and during that time I found myself completely distanced from my own experience as I focused on making this transition as smooth as possible for Isabel (all the while Anaïs was growing in my belly). One year later, as Isabel approaches her third birthday I find myself completely in awe of the ease with which she has engaged into her new life. And even more, following a wonderful (emotional and exhausting) visit 'home' to Canada I was amazed at how gracefully she embraced her 'old life' -- eager to play with the people she had not seen for nearly a year, happy to see 'our house'. And, upon our return, moving without fear into our home here in Colombia. To reflect on the experience of this last year for Isabel fills me with so much wonder that it is hard to describe. She lived each moment of this passage fully and completely -- the pain, the tears, the losses, the openings, the joys, the new opportunities -- she faced (and embraced) each experience and she blossomed.

Above all, she continues to teach me the importance of communication and trusting my own instinct above any external advice that might come my way. As an example, for a year I've dealt with the 'pressure' of putting Isabel into daycare, and simultaneously her clear expression that she was not ready to go by herself. Fine with me... i love having her at home. Then, a day or two after we returned from Canada she decided she wants to go to school. And so, she if off... three mornings a week. There are no tears, no struggles, no long good-byes. She owns her experience and she loves it. She runs into our room in the morning (on a school day) all dressed and excited that it is a "Malaquita" day (the name of her school). And when I pick her up she can't stop talking about all the fun things she got to do at school.

It also allows me precious moments with Anaïs in the mornings... and now as she is about to turn seven months I am amazed at just how important these tender times together are for us. And, of course, I cannot help but be a proud mama. The day we got back from Canada Anaïs showed us she was doing some growing up of her own... that day she decided to start sitting on her own and has not looked back. It was so funny to watch the shift from one day to the next. All of a sudden. She also took this change as a queue to officially start pooping only on the potty. No grey areas anymore, she is very clear... making a effective raspberry sound each time she needs to use the potty and then smiling as she sits proudly in front of the mirror. She also makes sure I know she is not done yet if I suggest picking her up to soon with a brow furrow followed by more raspberries. And, even though we engaged in 'elimination communication' with Isabel... I am still shocked at how easily Anaïs can communicate her needs already. Of course, her big sister is not surprised at all and takes it all as a matter of fact. After all, why would Anaïs poop anywhere other than the potty (makes sense, i suppose)?!?

With all of these developmental changes, along with the fact that Anaïs is desperately trying to crawl putting her body into the most creative yoga poses imaginable and walking with intent while holding on to my fingers, sleep has become a thing of the past. Alas, being that this is my second child I am far less phased by this... I am not one for sleep training (though sometimes, in those weak moments of total exhaustion, I am totally jealous of those who have the willpower). So, I do my best to accept this phase. For I know it will pass... it did with Isabel (though I suspect it will be a totally different experience with Anaïs). And, to be honest, as fully engaging and exhausting as the early years of parenting are... they pass so quickly. As I watch Isabel eagerly rush off to school with hardly a backward glance, I am reminded that these moments will pass... and so I do my best to enjoy the snuggles of Anaïs in our bed, the rocking and the lengths of time it takes to get her to fall asleep (only to hear her wake up again not to long later). It is what it is... and I am grateful for the gift and magic of their presence in our lives... even if it does temporarily deprive us of sleep.

And, why all this reflection today... for it's been a year that we have been here in Bogota, and it is marked by my birthday. And a I watch with amazement the magic of my girls, I am also filled with gratitude for the community we have built here. To celebrate I was spoiled with 100 roses (chosen by Isabel and her papa), a lovely massage, and then an afternoon shared with good friends. I was overcome with a feeling of calm and beauty as I looked at the beautiful women who have filled my life here in Bogota, and as I look forward to creating more memories with them. And so today, on my birthday, i feel totally and completely spoiled... spoiled by the love of my family, spoiled by the profound beauty of my girls, spoiled by the incredible friends who encircle us from afar, spoiled by the amazing community that surrounds us here, spoiled by our extended family who love us to bits, spoiled by the man who shares in these joys, spoiled by the laughter that fills our halls, spoiled by the people who showered me with affection today (and everyday), spoiled by the knowledge that this moment is just what it is right now... and it is perfect in its imperfections... and it too shall pass. Spoiled to be alive.

our morning smile...

Just thought i'd share a photo from this morning... the girls were adorable singing to each other and snuggling. Isabel runs in as soon as she hears her sister waking up (Anaïs usually sleeps in a little longer than Isabel). The girls are both growing so fast it's as if I see time flashing by right before my eyes. I want to savour each moment and relish in the magic of it all. I want to soak it up and not miss a single heartbeat. The day we returned home Anaïs started sitting on her own... just like that; and she is now eating anything she can get her hands on... not sleeping much, but that's all part of the package, i suppose. She is also eagerly trying to crawl (and even walk) chasing after her sister. Unlike Isabel, Anaïs just wants to do it on her own... she has no use for my fingers and tries to pull away... promptly falling flat on her face and then eagerly up to do it again. Isabel is a star... she seems to have matured so much since we got home. She decided to start going to school on her own and loves it... it is wonderful to watch her own this decision as she gets up in the morning gets her clothes on (though she still likes me to help her with her socks... a little to tricky for her little hands, she says) and runs into my room to tell me it's a "Malaquita day" (that's the name of her school). She started off with the 2-3year olds, but was promptly moved into the older group. The teachers love her and she comes home beaming with pride.

She is always singing to her sister, and her sister responds by giggling and dancing (she is a mover). Isabel also has an incredible sense of what is going on. The other day I was putting Anaïs to sleep, and at the same time Isabel was looking for me calling "mama"... when she go to the door and saw that I was settling Anaïs she whispered 'night, night' and gently shut the door. Isabel loves that her sister is eating and helps to feed her. And, as usual, Anaïs lights up the moment she sees her big sister. We are exhausted, as sleep seems to be a rare treat and our days are full of activity with the energy of these little souls... but most days we do our best not to let it phase us too much. The charms far outweigh the challenges.

And now that we are back in Colombia, we are even more grateful for the time we were able to share with our family... though it was exhausting and emotionally charged. It was magical as well. It was a reminder of what is valuable, and for me, it also brought to the forefront what is important as we build our life here -- the friends that we make, the time that we spend with our children, the love that we share with each other... and as always, above all, trying to keep each moment in perspective. It is so easy to reflect back on something and laugh about it, or find the magic/joy in it... and yet at the time it is happening we are often so caught up in the various tensions around it that we miss the beauty of now.

So today, as I spend another beautiful day with my family... I am so grateful for right now. And my wish is that this feeling lasts through to the next moment.

a couple more days in Toronto...

We are so extremely grateful to Dave, Cathy, Kendra & Natasha who opened up their home to us for the duration of our stay in Toronto. They were absolutely amazing hosts and made our experience of travelling with two young kids so much easier than it might otherwise have been. Even though they had just finished enormous renovations and only moved in a few weeks prior to our arrival... the home was in stellar shape. To be honest, I have no idea how Cathy does it... I am still in awe of her managerial and organizational skills -- for she managed the entire reconstruction of the home, the move and furnishings, and is also a full time mom of two beautiful girls. To say we were spoiled is an understatement!! They even put up with their front entrance turning into a revolving door of visitors who were eager to spend a few moments with our girls (and us too, i think). While in Toronto, we also got to visit with friends of ours who are currently posted in Tanzania... it was quite amazing to see the girls reunite (Abby is just one month older than Isabel). We had beautiful weather and played outside at Sherbrooke Park. Yet another one of those beautiful memories that childhood is made of... i still get a smile when i imagine running through sprinklers on a hot summer day! The one thing that I found most challenging about this trip is how little time there was to spend with everyone we wanted to see. We are so very grateful to those of you who made such tremendous effort to drive out to visit us even just for a few minutes... really, it was amazing. Those of you who came and played with the girls while we ate dinner, those of you who drove by to drop off toys and clothes (and managed to sneak in a fifteen minute visit), those of you who drove up on your lunch breaks to take a 20-minute walk around the block. The visits were many and the time as always too brief. But what we appreciated most was just the opportunity to reconnect, to feel the physical presence of the people we love and yet live so far away from.

The other part of our time that was riddled with sadness for me personally, was to share time with friends going through emotional and physical distress. It made it all the more poignant to realize how difficult it is to be so far away. I wanted to stay to be around to take long walks and offer face-to-face support... one friend whose husband was diagnosed with cancer, another friend whose mother passed away, another whose sister was undergoing cancer treatment, another whose mother was diagnosed with cancer... the trauma of it all continues to haunt my heart. I could not believe that in such a short time as we were in Canada so many of our closest friends were dealing with such news. And at the same time, during our short six-weeks in Canada, five of our friends had babies... all girls!! So, as always, we were living the complete cycle of life as it moves before us just like the ebb and flow of the waters, the waxing and waning of the move, and the rise and fall of the sun... it is constant, ever-present, ever real.

I felt myself torn in so many directions; and as always, it was my girls who reminded me that there is only one direction and it is this very moment. We live it as it is... filled with joys and sorrows... without judgement and full of grace. And again, I was reminded of the power of prayer and intention... so while I cannot be there to share in the various peaks and valleys of our friends lives, I can also send them energy with my thoughts... I can always rely on the strength of our intentions and allow them to grow wings that span the distance of countries and oceans.

A few days of relaxation...

With immense gratitude to Tony & Mary, we enjoyed a few amazingly calm days at Huyck's Point with my mom-in-law, my mom, Julian and my aunt. It was spectacular. The girls had a ball being spoiled by both their grandmothers who doted on them at each moment. There was so much laughter that my belly is still sore from the joy. It was wonderful to watch our children through the eyes of others (granted, still family, but once removed). To see how confident the girls are, and how comfortable in any situation, and so full of happiness which spills over as they talk and squeal and giggle. The days were complete with all the things that childhood memories are made of... watching frogs jump around, picking up snakes in the grass, feeding ground moles, chasing birds, splashing in the water and just being free.

Joshua and I were spoiled and even enjoyed a few relaxing moments in the sun by the water... going for a swim or putting our feet up. We felt totally pampered.

Isabel making friends with the snake

Anaïs getting ready to run in the grass!!

welcoming and grace...

May you fall in love with your beauty, your grace, your honour, your courage & your strength. ~ Yogi Bhajan

Friday, August 7th, 2009 ~ Today we shared a beautiful morning with family and friends as we held a private welcoming ceremony for Anaïs Maria. In true form, Anaïs showered guests with her smiles and seemed to know each step of the process better than we did. The ceremony was marked with a baptism at the Blessed Sacrament Church in Ottawa officiated by Father Joe -- just as the one we held for Isabel Chloe on September 9th, 2007. The godparents both read a beautiful dedication, and all of our family surrounded us in a semi-circle around the alter. Father Joe spoke beautifully about the opportunity that is presented to us to live out our lives to the best of our ability... with love, respect and faith. To believe that anything is possible. He reminded us that these celebrations and dedications are merely reminders to always guide us back to ourselves... to help us find our lifes path, our mission on this earth. Our roads may vary and our guides may too, but in our hearts we will always find the truth of who we are... and the universe will provide us with what we need to manifest our reality.

Following the official baptism, we shared a lovely lunch with friends and family at 'our old stomping grounds'.... that is, our house. It is currently being occupied by good friends, but they were going out of town to attend another welcoming ceremony. So, the space was 'ours for the weekend."

Thanks to all of our friends who shared in this special day with us... whether near or far, in person or in spirit... we felt the magic of your presence. We were surrounded by a sense of love, peace... and a knowledge that all is just as it is supposed to be... even if we do not understand each intricate detail... we trust and we live.

more photos of the welcoming are on the picasa site... follow the link for 'more photos' under additional links!!

eighteen

Today Sam turned eighteen... the youngest of five brothers. As I watched him blow out the candles (with a little help from Isabel), I was struck by just how amazing life is. And even more, I found myself suddenly reflecting on what incredible parents my in-laws are. They have raised five amazing human beings... nurturing them from babies to boys to men. Two of the oldest now have families of their own. Each one of them completely unique, each one with a kind heart, each one committed to their family, each one full of love and respect for the world around them, each one of them with a strength of character that flows from their core...

As I watched my mother-in-law prepare yet another beautiful birthday cake, I was amazed at the love and care she pute into all that she does. I was overwhelmed by her ability to love... simply, completely and fully. With five sons, four daughters-in-law and five granddaughters, she manages to make each one of us feel totally adored. Her love is honest, real and without judgement. She accepts us for who we are... just as we are. There is no struggle, there is no disapproval... and there is no doubt that we are loved. There are no holes... and in this love we all find a connection to ourselves and to each other. A family.

My father in law is more quiet in his love, but it is no less deep and no less pure. His affection is like an undercurrent that you always know is there... it wraps you a like a blanket on a cold, cold day... and fills you up with a warmth that comes from within. It is the foundation and it is peace.

All this reflection brought upon by the 18th birthday of Joshua's youngest brother... no longer a boy... a human being with an incredible insight into humanity, a deep quest for justice, an amazing awareness of the other, and a loyalty to friends and family that matches that of all his brothers. Moving into the world as an amazing uncle, brother, friend and human being. Truly, one of my favourite people in the world... as are all my 'brothers and sisters and nieces'. So, again, I am inspired by the unconditional force of the love that comes from nana and jid'do which has created this amazing community we call our family.

reflections on the water

Every space holds an energy... and we soak it up with more ease than we even realize. Today, we spent a magical day at Rhonda's island: surrounded by water and feeling totally relaxed. As soon as we stepped on to the island we felt a calmness fill our bones and rejuvenate our souls. The island seems to carry with it a sense of stillness that allows our busy minds to be put at ease... no matter what else is going on in the world, in this space nothing else matters. It was so rejuvenating and I am still feeling the positive vibrations. Both girls got to drive the boat... Anaïs focused and calm, and Isabel excited to get to steer (sometimes to excited to keep her hands on the wheel).

Our time at the island also gave me some space to digest the amazing couple of weeks we have had since arriving in Canada. The time has been so full that I have hardly had a moment to actually absorb the intensity, chaos and beauty of it all. From the moment we arrived we have been trying to see so many people... each visit seems to be shorter than the last and as the time goes by I feel almost to exhausted to actually enjoy the moment. I found myself getting lost in the fact that we are not at home... and yet we are at home. What an odd sensation... to be 'home' and yet simultaneously to feel like a 'stranger'. Everything being totally familiar, and at the same time completely foreign. It is unlike anything I have ever experienced before.

I love the time we have to see friends, and yet there is never any real escape to refuel in our own space. Every space we are in is 'borrowed'... and even the time shared seems to be borrowed time. We exchange stories of daily events and talk about the things that are meaningful... and as children demand our attention many conversations are interrupted. There doesn't seem to be enough time... and yet 'enough' has no meaning because it is just about being with what is... the time that we have. With each visit we are jarred into the present moment... with each reconnection we are reminded of what we miss as we make our 'home' in another land... and with each day we feel simultaneously more distant and more connected to this new reality of living a life abroad while visiting our family and friends at 'home'. So where is home...

It is drifting and changing... but above all it is like time, right now, this instant. And this is the gift today has brought to me... the realization that we will not have 'enough' time, energy, resources to do everything, to see everyone... but we will enjoy whatever opportunities we have to be with those we love. For whether we are living next door, or a continent apart... our hearts continue to keep us connected, and our connections continue to be real, just as they are.

keeping it in perspective...

It's amazing what a little bit of sleep can do for one's perspective. How easy it is to fall into a cycle of doubt when we are plagued with fatigue. Yet, as soon as the fog lifts we can see clearly... and realize that each wave of challenges is simply that... it passes, it flows, it moves. That is not to say that being caught in the motion is not difficult or disruptive... but dedicating our energy to analysis of the situation rarely brings us closer to clarity or sanity. In fact, all to often it is the contrary... our mind can take us even further from the truth.

And so, here we are, enjoying our first weeks in Canada... and while there is no schedule, our girls are sleeping less than ever, we are filled with the emotion of seeing family and friends who we have not seen in ages... we are simply being present in the wave of this experience. Without need to worry about what it will mean for re-establishing sleep patterns, eating habits and so on... it's a wonderful way to be. It is, afterall, vacation time!!

We are so lucky to have had a great place to stay in Toronto with our friends who recently renovated their home. I was in awe at how much beauty they put into their space... designing every single detail with attention and care for how it will be used. And just two weeks after moving in opening up their space to us for an extended visit with the girls. Now we are in Morin Heights enjoying the peace of life in the country, and the magic (and chaos) of being all together (five brothers, four wives/girlfriends, five grand-daughters, grandparents, uncles, aunts, cousins and friends with kids of their own). We have a beautiful home where we can retreat with the girls whenever we need to... and mostly we are relishing in the joy of all being together. I am continually struck by the beauty of family... how well cousins get along, how magical the relationship is between uncles/aunts and nieces (no nephews yet), and how much fun it is to be together. The love is overpowering and simultaneously liberating... with a freedom to just be present... right here and right now.

As usual, there are more photos posted at picasa -- following the link in additional links!!

patience...

Some people seem to have an endless supply of patience... no matter what challenges or surprises they face; they approach them with complete grace and calm. There are so many moments when I wish to tap into this resource. At times I find myself standing at the edge of a cliff... around me is a state of calm, a presence, a security in knowing that this moment is exactly as it should be... but as I look down I feel myself hover over an abyss of chaos. As I steady my feet, I am strangely aware of the fact that a mere breeze could tip me over. I hold firm. I take a deep breath. I imagine there is no one else watching. I try very hard to remind myself that beyond the frustration, exhaustion and loneliness, I can find strength and exhileration in the simplest acts -- a hug, a smile, a song. The ordinary moments become extraordinary. Yet at the same time, the challenging moments take every ounce of patience I can find to move through. No matter how bad it gets, I know it will pass... and with time and reflection I always realise it was never that bad. But at that very moment when I hover at the edge of the cliff, I am never sure if I will find the patience to be present, to understand, to open my heart. I suppose it is the fear that creates the feeling of vertigo. So, if only I could release the fear, then the feeling of being at the limits of my patience could also be freed? What is it that I am so afraid of... that my children experience pain, unhappiness, illness? I know this is a part of being human and being alive... yet when I see it in the eyes of my children I am completely paralysed. I want to do everything I can to wipe away the pain as I wipe away the tears... whether the pain is emotional or physical, or even appears to be imaginary. Sometimes I just keep searching for answers -- answers to questions that I cannot even articulate. Yet I keep hoping that someone can tell me, show me, guide me. I know in my heart that it is my children who are guiding me, and all I need to do is listen. This is easy to say when I am not tired and feeling burned out... and in turn feeling uncertain as to what steps to take next. The answer is simple: just put one foot in front of the other. But what if in front of you is a screaming child, having a tantrum about something you are completely unable to understand or diminish. It's as if there is a fire burning out of control and there is no water anywhere in sight. I search for something to calm the situation... and I hope that the choice I make is the right one (whatever that means). And through it all, I keep searching for patience. Hovering... trying desperately not to fall; and always getting up each time I do. Someone recently told me that between one and a half and four years of age are some of the hardest years of parenting... as the kids explore their independance and try to find themselves in the myriad of possibilities before them. As we/they get older more means of communication develop and frustrations subsides... we/they learn new ways of expressing their tantrums that perhaps are less painful to the outside world, and we/they learn better coping mechanisms. I suppose this is all part of learning to walk alone... not just with our feet, but with our hearts and our minds too. There will be falls, and there will be bruises... and while they (we) may never really be alone, the steps they (we) take are theirs (ours) to own.

And the day came when the risk to remain tight in a bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom. ~ Anais Nin

she walks alone...

"The loving mother teaches the child to walk alone. She is far enough from her so that she cannot actually support her, but she holds out her arms to her. She imitates her movements, and if she totters, she swiftly bends as if to seize her, so that the child might believe she is not walking alone...And yet, she does more. Her face beckons like a reward, an encouragement. Thus, the child walks alone with her eyes fixed on her mama's face, not on the difficulties in her way. She supports herself by the arms that do not hold her and constantly strives towards the refuge in her mother's embrace, little suspecting that in the very same moment that she is emphasizing her need for her, she is proving that she can do without her, because she is walking alone." It starts with baby steps... and then the independance continues to grow... little by little... getting dressed, putting on shoes, baking cookies, reading books... And suddenly you realize that she is doing it all alone. The memories are there to cherish... the moments exist to be lived.

state of mind

Last night Isabel woke up at night with a high fever. Joshua and I found immense patience within ourselves as we moved through the night barely sleeping, and entered into the day barely awake. There was no doubt, no confusion. Isabel was sick and we needed to just do whatever had to be done in that moment... for her, for each other, for ourselves, and for Anaïs. And we did... and despite being sick and tired Isabel was kind and cooperative. It gave me pause as to why the times when our patience wanes in the day to day expectations about sleep, eating, schedules and so on. I was struck by the fact that when we knew without a doubt the reason for a certain behaviour, a positive response was simple and clear. Yet, when the wake ups don't make sense... or at least we cannot identify a clear reason for what is causing a certain reaction; our own response become harder to justify... not only to others, but to ourselves. Our patience gets worn and we just want things to make sense. And yet, the sense is not always clear in the moment. But what is clear to me is that there is a reason to respect the other person, the other child, the other spirit... their expression is real and justifiable; even if it does not make perfect sense to us. Our frustration does not find its roots in this moment; rather, it comes from our own ideas about ourselves and our world. Our expectations, our fears, our doubts. And so, in this moment, I found myself putting forth a challenge to me... to remember my state of mind when I could understand the cause, especially in those moments when I could not. For it does not matter what the reason... it simply is what it is; and it always, always passes. May I find "the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference"... and above all, the strength to trust that everything is exactly as it is meant to be.

what moves me...

"Too often we underestimate the power of a touch, a smile, a kind word, a listening ear, an honest compliment, or the smallest act of caring, all of which have the potential to turn a life around." ~ Leo BuscagliaThese words moved me. The woman who 'shared' it with me has a heart of gold; her presence in my life moves me. The moment shared between Isabel & Anaïs in this photo moved me (isabel was singing a song of love to her little sister and anaïs was captivated)... and all of this comes together to express how I feel about life, humanity, the world, and the relationships that feed our souls. For me, becoming a mother has offered me the greatest lessons in miracles... some might say it is a mere shift in perspective and I would totally agree. But there is nothing 'mere' about it. Yet, as I share my own lessons with others and hear their own tales, I realize that any act/experience which engages us, captures us, challenges us to be real and in this moment offers this same opportunity. The paths might be different, but journey is so similar.

choices and validation

"One who is undisturbed by the flow of desires, as the ocean is unmoved by the incessant flow of rivers, finds peace." ~ Bhagavad Gita, 2.70 The trouble with choices is rarely about the choices themselves, but what others may think about the choices we make... friends, parents, children, strangers. It is rare that a day goes by without some kind of advice given by others... most of it is benign and perhaps all should be taken so lightly. Yet sometimes (and it seems so often with parenting) someone says something that strikes a cord of self-doubt. And we are thrown into a spiral of wondering and defensiveness. Inevitably, every conversation I have with another mom there is always talk about the 'opinions of others' and how they affect us so much. Each time it makes me wonder when we stopped trusting our own instincts and put all the power of 'expertise' outside of ourselves. I suppose it has been decades of developing a society built on authority and control. Yet, the more trust we place outside of ourselves, the more control we put into rules and guidelines, the more out of control we often feel as individuals. There is certainly a good argument of some kind of 'social rules'. Yet, the rules seem only to defy human nature... it is as if we are always saying: "We don't trust that you will choose to do the right thing; so we are going to make rules, laws, punishments and rewards to entice you to do the right thing." As I grow into my role as a mom, I find myself questioning the validity of these rules. I want to, I choose to, believe without reservation that my kids (and all kids) are good. That the ways they use to voice their opinions may not always fit with my own ideas about what is the 'right way to behave in public' or at any given moment... but it is their voice. They are not trying to purposefully manipulate a situation. And so I choose to listen to their voices as best as I can with patience and love. Oh it is not easy. So often I need to count to ten and take a really deep breath when her voice/choice and opinion does not cooperate with my own expectations. But what would it accomplish to punish her for breaking a rule that she did not create and does not even begin to understand. The most amazing thing is that each time I choose to listen to her, I also find my own voice. Rather than simply following a rule, I trust my instinct. Each time I choose to experience this moment as it is, I am liberated from all the external voices/judgments and I find myself. In a way, it is as if the hardest and most challenging experiences offer the most incredible opportunities for growth. My validation suddenly no longer needs to come from an external source... instead it just is, right here and right now. Yet, as I travel this road, no matter how committed I am... and no matter how rewarding it is. I am so happy to have friends along the way who can offer words of encouragement and support along the way. No matter how confident one is, hearing the support from outside is still ingrained in our psyche. And so, I hope for my kids and their generation they will find that strength within themselves... I hope they don't need all the validation and they simply feel confident in their own choices, their own voices, their own selves!!

Happy Father's Day & Happy Solstice

We spent a lovely father's day at 'La Granja' -- a little visiting farm where Isabel was able to feed carrots to all the animals. She is too cautious to actually feed them herself, but she found a little friend to whom she would pass the carrots and watch the cows, goats, llamas and even ducks devour them from her hand. There is a great play area with slides and teeter-totters where Isabel was able to run around. It was sweet to watch her run around freely... always eager to make friends. As soon as she sees another kid close to her in size she runs right up to them and starts to make conversation. In the picture above she was on the teeter-totter yelling Happy Father's Day to her papa!! The day started off with homemade banana muffins and a coffee that Isabel brought to papa in bed... though instead of 'father's day', she sang happy birthday to papa. I guess she couldn't quite get the concept yet... so many new celebrations she has been learning about this year. The girls made a beautiful photo album for their dad with foot and hand prints... Isabel helped Anaïs paint her toes yellow to make the imprint on the page. For me, it was a really special time to reflect on how blessed we are to have such a wonderful family. As I look around I see so many dads that are not involved and missing out on some of the most spectacular years of their kids lives. Especially as we make our home away from Canada, the prevelance of absent fathers is so striking (in many cases the moms too, with most kids spending the majority of their time with nanny's and in daycares). It is definitely a choice that can be hard to make; and it is very personal. Yet, as I took a moment to honour the father of Isabel and Anaïs, I was truly overwhelmed at how much joy we get from being together. And more grateful than words could even begin to describe to have a partner who chooses to spend time with family - and engages in every activity without compromise. There are certainly moments where I think this is just how it should be... it is our normal. Yet, for so many people it is not the reality. Having a partner I can count on through each step of this parenting journey is a gift that I treasure. So for Father's Day, I am filled with gratitude and appreciation to all of the men who choose to put their families first. And I am so happy that my daughters dad is just this kind of man!! It truly never ceases to amaze me... no matter how tired or what else is going on... there is always a smile and a hug and energy enough to play and read one more story. It is a well-talked about issue that mother's work goes unrecognized; yet the work of dads, the ones who are truly engaged, is not even on the discussion list. So, to all you dad's who walk the talk and love being a papa... this is your day!! This year, Father's Day falls on the same day as Summer Solstice... the longest day of the year. Though, living this close to the equator and at such a high altitude, the days seem to be exactly the same length with each rotation of the earth. But even still, there is a magic about this day. The energy of the sun seems stronger, even if the day does not feel longer. It is also a day where I feel an urge to honour nature in its power and its brilliance. "To see the World in a grain of sand, and a heaven in a wildflower, hold Infinity in the palm of your hand, and eternity in an hour." ~ William Blake

A few days by the sea...

Last week we spent a few days (June 3-7) by the sea on a little island called San Andres. It is a tiny island in the shape of a sea horse, nestled close to two other islands: Providencia and Santa Catalina. The archipelago of San Andrés, Providencia y Santa Catalina, identified by UNESCO as a World Biosphere Reserve, is located 480 miles (720 km) northwest from the Colombian Caribbean Coast.

Closer to Nicaragua and Jamaica, how the archipelago came to be a Colombian territory is the result of piracy, wars of independence, slavery, immigration, sugar, cotton and religion.

Originally settled by the Spanish in 1510, the islands were part of the Audiencia of Panama, then part of the Capitanía of Guatemala and Nicaragua. English Puritans and Jamaican woodcutters followed the pirates and it wasn’t until 1821 during the Wars of Independence that Francisco de Paula Santander took the islands and the Colombian flag was raised on June 23, 1822.

Sugar and cotton plantations were the mainstays of the early economy and slaves were imported from Jamaica to work the fields. Even after the islands became Colombian territory, the English influence remained in architecture, language, and religion.The archipelago consists of two large islands, San Andrés and Providencia. San Andrés, at the southern end of the archipelago, is the largest island at 13 km long and 3 km wide. It is mostly flat, with the highest point being El Cliff overlooking El Centro, the local name for the town of San Andrés at the northern end of the island. Most of the tourism and commercial business are here.

The island is walkable, but you can rent a scooter or moped to explore. Providencia is the next largest island, at 7 km long and 4 km wide. Located 90 km north of San Andrés, it was for many years quieter and less affected by tourism. However, it is rapidly becoming extremely fashionable and expensive. It is still a lure to snorkelers and divers who come for the extensive coral reefs and clear water.

And it is no wonder, we took a boat out one afternoon and the water was breathtaking... it is hard to capture on film the intensity and clarity of the sea that was in our sight. The boat ride was likely the highlight of our trip. We had originally planned to join a tour group in the morning, but the rain was pouring when we woke up and decided it was too much to try to venture out with the girls. So, instead, we enjoyed a private tour in the afternoon. As soon as the music came on Isabel started dancing and she stopped only to stare at the water from the edge of the boat. Anaïs was totally relaxed and even took a nap. Joshua and I both got in the water with the manta rays... and unbelievable experience. They were so slippery and slimy as they swam by; and there were so many of them swimming the waters between our feet. Huge and yet so graceful in their movements. It was as if they were dancing at our feet.

This trip marked the first time Anaïs was at sea level, and her first swim in the salty Caribbean Sea. We were blessed with beautiful weather and enjoyed playing on the beach from morning until night. Isabel was in heaven playing in the sand, splashing in the water. And both girls made friends with everyone at the hotel -- which was a blessing for me as I was able to enjoy time with one or the other while some gentle soul held Anaïs so I could take a swim with Isabel; or watched over Isabel so I could take a stroll with Anaïs.

This vacation was such a treasure... the sun revitalized my spirit, the sea refuelled my soul. It was hot, hot, hot; and I will admit that by the final day I was ready to go back to the more temperate weather in Bogota. But it also gave me a taste of how nice it is to take a vacation with the two girls... and the many beautiful memories we will be making along the way as we travel the world.

It's amazing what a sense of peace even a short vacation by the sea can offer. Though San Andres might not be our destination of choice for a longer trip. It was just what we needed to recharge our batteries!! You can find more photos from out trip at http://picasaweb.google.ca/jpstories/SanAndresJune37#

laughter

Gratitude is the open door to abundance. ~ Yogi Bhajan

Each day that I watch my children experience the world I am filled with a sense of wonder. Is it possible to be so blessed? For the many moments of frustration, and the never ending exhaustion that comes along with parenthood; the abundance of blessings far outweighs the challenges. My children teach me to let go and live in the present moment... in a way that I never thought I would experience. They actively force me to move out of my head and just be... knowing that right now is the most precious moment of all. And as I release expectations, the blessings multiply. Rather than fretting about what is right/wrong, whether I am making the best choices... I can just enjoy what actually is. Life is perfect not because it is meeting some kind of expectations... but simply because it is what it is in this moment. Nothing reinforces this reality for me more than the laughter of my children. They truly are my greatest teachers. So long as I can put aside all the shoulds, the vulnerabilities, the insecurities and just be... I create the space to allow them to be just who they are... blossoming into incredible people who I love spending time with.

All this is not to say that I never lose my patience, or use a harsh tone unnecessarily; but rather that I am beginning to realise that when I do these things, it is rarely because of something that needs to change in my girls... rather, it is a lesson and a window into something that I can learn about myself. A simple shift in perspective... it's what miracles are made of.

Perfection in perspective...

We strive to be perfect... whatever this means. Sometimes we do not even realize we are doing it, and yet we judge ourselves for all our 'faults' and 'failures'. This judgment seems even more profound as we enter parenthood... seeking answers from books and experts. We get so caught up in all the 'shoulds' of any given stage... and we forget that it all passes: the good and the bad. As expectant mothers we worry about the pregnancy, than about the labour. In the early months we worry about breastfeeding/bottle feeding; then we worry about forming bad sleep habits or encouraging good ones; we move into fretting about weaning and introducing the right foods (how much are they eating, is it the right stuff); and then we get into behaviour control with time-outs and incentives; potty-training; homeworks; curfews... rules or no rules; permissiveness versus strict control. And throughout it all we seek out expert advice - often allowing this advice to trump our own instincts. And sometimes we just suffer with getting too much unwanted advice... and while we try to ignore it, the words sink into our psyche and fill us with self-doubt. At what point did we stop listening to our own instincts and start believing that 'someone' or 'something' 'out there' knows better, has a better answer, can offer an easy solution. Yet, being a parent is hard... no matter what rules we follow. It challenges us to live in the here and now. It forces us to take a deeper look at our own insecurities. It exposes to us our most tender vulnerabilities. And if we stop and listen... we realise that our children are truly our greatest teachers. It is us who are learning from them, not the other way around. And somehow, someway, they grow into wonderful human beings regardless of the little details along the way... whether we rocked them to sleep or they dozed in a crib; whether they ate their dessert first or devoured plates of brocolli; whether they sat calmly on a plane ride across the ocean, or let everyone around them know they did not enjoy sitting still. We can guide them and inspire them; but we do not need to change our children. They are magic, just as they are. And perhaps, as we listen to advice along the way... we may want to heed the advice that comes from the heart, rather than that which fills us with doubt and uncertainty. There are a million different reasons why not to allow babies to fall asleep in our arms... and yet, following this advice means we miss out on one of the most precious gifts of having a newborn. The sense of peace and awe that fills our souls when we hold a sleeping baby. I was recently having a conversation with a good friend of mine who has three teenage kids; and I asked her whether she had any advice to ensure that Isabel continues to transition well into being a big sister. And she told me something that was so simple, and yet to me so utterly profound. She said that if there was any sibling rivalry between her girls she doesn't remember. She said: "Right now this is where you are, and so it seems like it is everything. But it is just a passing moment. Soon you will move into the next one and worry about that." And suddenly I realised that I don't need to worry... because it will be what it will be. And I spend all my time worrying about the little nuances, I will miss out on the magic moments that I want to savour. A day later I came across the following note and it further accentuated the importance of this message: Everything passes... the sleepless nights and the late night giggles... enjoy what fills you with laughter and know that with each new day the light shines again and the heaviness of the night passes. ---- All My Babies Are Gone Now http://forksandchopsticks.wordpress.com/2007/05/13/all-my-babies-are-gone-now/ By Anna Quindlen, Newsweek Columnist and Author All my babies are gone now. I say this not in sorrow, but in disbelief. I take great satisfaction in what I have today: three almost-adults, two taller than I am, one closing in fast. Three people who read the same books I do and have learned not to be afraid of disagreeing with me in their opinion of them, who sometimes tell vulgar jokes that make me laugh until I choke and cry, who need razor blades and shower gel and privacy, who want to keep their doors closed more than I like. Who, miraculously, go to the bathroom, zip up their jackets and move food from plate to mouth all by themselves. Like the trick soap I bought for the bathroom with a rubber ducky at its center, the baby is buried deep within each, barely discernible except through the unreliable haze of the past. Everything in all the books I once pored over is finished for me now. Penelope Leach, T. Berry Brazelton, Dr. Spock. The ones on sibling rivalry and sleeping through the night and early-childhood education — all grown obsolete. Along with Goodnight Moon and Where the Wild Things Are, they are battered, spotted, well used. But I suspect that if you flipped the pages dust would rise like memories. What those books taught me, finally, and what the women on the playground taught me, and the well-meaning relations — what they taught me, was that they couldn’t really teach me very much at all. Raising children is presented at first as a true-false test, then becomes multiple choice, until finally, far along, you realize that it is an endless essay. No one knows anything. One child responds well to positive reinforcement, another can be managed only with a stern voice and a timeout. One child is toilet trained at 3, his sibling at 2. When my first child was born, parents were told to put baby to bed on his belly so that he would not choke on his own spit-up. By the time my last arrived, babies were put down on their backs because of research on sudden infant death syndrome. To a new parent this ever-shifting certainty is terrifying, and then soothing. Eventually you must learn to trust yourself. Eventually the research will follow. I remember 15 years ago poring over one of Dr. Brazelton’s wonderful books on child development, in which he describes three different sorts of infants: average, quiet, and active. I was looking for a sub-quiet codicil for an 18-month old who did not walk. Was there something wrong with his fat little legs? Was there something wrong with his tiny little mind? Was he developmentally delayed, physically challenged? Was I insane? Last year he went to China. Next year he goes to college. He can talk just fine. He can walk, too. Every part of raising children is humbling. Believe me, mistakes were made. They have all been enshrined in the “Remember-When-Mom-Did” Hall of Fame. The outbursts, the temper tantrums, the bad language –mine, not theirs. The times the baby fell off the bed. The times I arrived late for preschool pickup. The nightmare sleepover. The horrible summer camp. The day when the youngest came barreling out of the classroom with a 98 on her geography test, and I responded, “What did you get wrong?” (She insisted I include that here.) The time I ordered food at the McDonald’s drive-through speaker and then drove away without picking it up from the window. (They all insisted I include that.) I did not allow them to watch the Simpsons for the first two seasons. What was I thinking? But the biggest mistake I made is the one that most of us make while doing this. I did not live in the moment enough. This is particularly clear now that the moment is gone, captured only in photographs. There is one picture of the three of them, sitting in the grass on a quilt in the shadow of the swing set on a summer day, ages 6, 4 and 1. And I wish I could remember what we ate, and what we talked about, and how they sounded, and how they looked when they slept that night. I wish I had not been in such a hurry to get on to the next thing: dinner, bath, book, bed. I wish I had treasured the doing a little more and the getting it done a little less. Even today I’m not sure what worked and what didn’t, what was me and what was simply life. When they were very small, I suppose I thought someday they would become who they were because of what I’d done. Now I suspect they simply grew into their true selves because they demanded in a thousand ways that I back off and let them be. The books said to be relaxed and I was often tense, matter-of-fact and I was sometimes over the top. And look how it all turned out. I wound up with the three people I like best in the world, who have done more than anyone to excavate my essential humanity. That’s what the books never told me. I was bound and determined to learn from the experts. It just took me a while to figure out who the experts were. ----- It has taken me nearly two and a half years of being a parent to realize that the perfect moment, the perfect reaction, the perfect parent, the perfect child are figments of our imagination... and in reality, the perfect everything is right here, right now.