The Mama Journal | 52 Portraits (3)

My sick, tired, messy-haired, still-smiling beauty - this has been a hard week for you.

The Mama Journal | 52 Portraits (2)

Somewhere between a tantrum and a power struggle, you exclaimed that I was your "best, best, best friend in the whole world forever!", always melting my heart with your sweetness on even the most tumultuous days of toddlerhood.

The Mama Journal | 52 Portraits (1)

Without question, the series on my blog that consistently gets the most feedback is The Mama Journal. I regularly receive messages from strangers and comments from clients at their session about how these posts resonate with them, and it's always so wonderful to hear that something I am so passionate about is being well received.  Since discontinuing my personal blog some time ago, The Mama Journal has been a way for me to continue to share my journey through motherhood with my friends and clients and a way for me to write about and document the things that matter most to me. Sadly this little series has not been updated since the Summer, when things started to get busier than they've ever been around here. But as I endeavour to restore a healthy work/family balance in my life, I want that to be reflected here as well. I'm excited about reviving The Mama Journal with more regular posts, starting with a new weekly photo project I'll be tying into the series. The Mama Journal | 52 Portraits

52 portraits is a weekly photo project through which I will be sharing 1 portrait of my girl and 1 sentence to accompany it every Monday. This project will help me accomplish 3 goals.

1. Regularly document my little girl, both in slow and busy seasons.

2. Revive The Mama Journal and continue to authentically and passionately document my journey through motherhood.

3. Force myself to practice a "less is more" philosophy by choosing only my post powerful  photo to share each week and summarizing my reflections into one meaningful sentence. If you've been following the blog for awhile, you know that I like to write a lot and that I am really bad at narrowing down photos (have you seen my 2013 favourites posts? I'm pretty sure I included way too many photos. The elimination process was agonizing).

So, now that you know the backstory, let's move onto the project, shall we? Today we are the first Monday in January. Let the fun begin! ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

52 portraits | 1

I was watching you play so independently with your friends today when you suddenly stopped to run over and hug me without a word, somehow knowing that I needed to feel needed right at that moment. 

The Mama Journal | Breathe

Dear Neve, Thank you for reminding me to breathe this week, and always.

This is new territory for your maman. I've never mothered an active toddler before. I've never been so busy with my photography business before. Both of these things are incredible blessings in my life (in that order), but sometimes it all feels like a blur.

Sometimes, between photographing sessions and weddings, answer emails, returning phone calls, filling out invoices, tracking income and expenses, editing countless photos and setting up consult meetings, I feel like I barely have the time to just snuggle you.

And sometimes, between going to the park, snuggling with books in the big bed, playing in the sandbox for hours, sharing our snacks, playing pretend tea party, making play dough creations, working through toddler tantrums, going on outdoor exploring adventures, navigating that tricky phase between full-on diapers and toilet learning and trying to prepare healthy, wholesome snacks and meals for you, I feel like I barely have the time to get work done.

In these moments when I seem to constantly tip back and forth between maman-needing-to-get-work-done and photographer-needing-to-just-be-a-maman, you remind me to just stop. Breathe. Take it in. Enjoy it.

I feel incredibly blessed to be able to stay home with you, mother you, play with you, enjoy you. That will always be number one for me.  I also feel incredibly blessed to be pursuing another dream of mine simultaneously, that of pursuing my passion for photography in a way that allows me to not only capture memories for me, but for others, too. It's a constant adjustment as you grow and your needs change, and as my business grows and requires more of my time. It's a balancing act, and it's difficult. But most amazing, worthwhile things in this life are hard. And I am determined to figure out the perfect balance, and committed to continuing to figure it out through the constant ebb and flow of life.

I sat down a made a list this week. I brought my journal outside and sat by the sandbox with you. While you happily filled your big green bucket with sand and sang your adorable made-up songs out loud, I jotted down my priorities. I made new rules, and created a schedule of working hours that leaves me lots of time (and some whole days) to just be with you, and to spend some time in the evenings with your papa, who has been very patient with me while I figure this out. I figured out how many sessions and weddings I can take on every week, every month, while still sticking to my working hours.

I'm sorry that this Summer has been such a learning curve for me as a mother and as an entrepreneur. The biggest lesson I learned is how to redefine success, and what it means for me. I used to long for the day when inquiries would pour in and I'd be booked solid. I would see other photographers exclaim that they were fully booked with x amount of sessions per week, weddings per year. I would think - wow, that's success. That's what I want. And now that I find myself in this new-ish territory of being booked months ahead for sessions, and over a year in advance for weddings, I'm learning that as wonderful as this is for me as a businesswoman, this is not the definition of success. Success for me is not defined by how many clients I have, by how "busy" I am. In fact, being too busy, for me, is the opposite of success. Because being too busy means stress and fatigue and compromising in areas of my life that I don't want to compromise in. I didn't plant a garden this year. I haven't gone for a run in almost two months. I stopped baking our bread from scratch. My meal planning took a back seat, and we've eaten more takeout in the past two months than we have in the last year. I didn't do all the fun maman things I wanted to do this Summer. Your papa and I barely spent a single evening together, let alone go on a date. And yet my business, which I love, is thriving. But I feel more tired than successful.

Will I give up? Certainly not. Because I am so passionate about photography, and I've worked hard to get to where I am. Being a photographer makes me a better, happier, more fulfilled person. It also helps to pay the bills, in turn helping me to be home with you. I will not give up, because you should never give up on your dreams. BUT- I will prioritize, I will schedule, I will learn to turn off the computer when my working hours are done, and start again later. And as I do so, I will be a better maman, a better wife, a better friend, and yes, even a better photographer.

Thank you for crawling into my lap with I tried to get editing done today, wrapping your little hands around my neck, kissing my cheek and whispering "Neve aime Maman. Maman aime Neve" in my ear with that little grin of yours I love so much. Thank you for reminding me why I do what I do, and why it's worth it, even when it's hard sometimes.

Tonight at bedtime, while I layed next to you in your big double bed, after our snuggles and stories and songs were over with, I just listened. I listened to your sweet, tired little voice telling me, randomly, that trains go "chugga chugga choo choo" and that helicopters go "takatakatakataka" and that plans fly in the sky, just like butterflies. I listened to you tell me that tomorrow you want to make muffins with maman, and that you want to go back to the water park with your yellow butterfly bathing suit. I listened to you pray and thank God for each member of your family all on your own, and I listened while you recalled your Summer holiday at your great-grandparents' home and remembered going in the lake with papa, and how papa caught a fish in the boat. I just listened. I listened to you breathe and I stroked your wispy hair.

It's moments like these, sweet girl, that remind me that nothing, nothing is more important than being your maman. It's moments like these that make me feel so good about setting new boundaries around my work/home balance, and it's moments like these that reaffirm my decision to pursue my passion for photography and my desire to be home with you, and set an example for you of what it looks like to be a woman  following her dreams, plural. Because you can follow more than one at a time, sweetheart. Even if it's hard. You just need to make sure to find the balance, and accept that you will never stop learning, growing and readjusting.

Thank you for reminding me to just breathe. To take it one day at a time, to stop for a tea party break and to spend as much time outside as possible. Thank you for helping me follow my dreams. After all, you are my number one dream-come-true.

Maman loves you, baby girl.

-xo

The Mama Journal | Dear Neve

When I used to keep a personal blog, I published a series I called "Letters to Neve". It started when I wrote a letter to our "future bebe", before she had even been conceived, when we had decided to pull the goalie so to speak. ;) I continued writing letters to our "gender-neutral" bebe throughout my pregnancy, then monthly throughout the first year of her life. Between the hundreds (thousands) of photos I take of her and the baby book I regularly update, I decided I wanted to keep the letters going on a yearly basis. My plan is to eventually compile them all in a book to give her when she's older. Since this "mama journal" has sort of replaced my personal blog, I decided to continue publishing these yearly letters in this space.

Dear Neve,

This morning when I woke up, you had somehow made it into our bed (again), and were safely snuggled in your papa's arms. We serenaded you with a lively (though groggy) rendition of "bonne fete" and gave you lots of kisses. We've tried to explain that you turn 2 today, but I don't think you fully understand what's happening. I, on the other hand, have been so keenly aware lately of how quickly and beautifully you are growing up.

I've been crying on and off this morning. I reread your birth story, and then watched this little video a thousand times. We did our regular morning thing - coffee for me, water for you. Bananas for both of us. Sandbox. Sidewalk chalk. Bare feet in the grass. Sand in your hair (you've got some, now... and it's adorable). Giggles and hugs and power struggles and sillies and lots of "non aide maman, Neve fait toute seule". But somehow everything feels a little more grown up today. Because you're 2. You're not a baby, though you'll always be my baby. You're a two-year-old. A kid. A messy, hilarious, affectionate, intelligent, curious, stubborn, independent kid. And you're amazing. 

You have an incredible grasp of both French and English, and you love to proudly exclaim "N-E-V-E!" when you see your name in print. Letters, numbers, shapes, colours... you soak it all in like a sponge. You are a smart, alert, brilliant child. And I'm not just saying that because you're mine. Your love of learning and exploring is a beautiful thing to watch, and I am always blown away by the sharpness of your mind and your enthusiasm for life. I love being able to have conversations with you. I love it that you make up jokes to make us laugh. I love your caring, affectionate spirit. Whether you're loving on your dolls, your friends or your dog, you have a nurturing heart. You're also a little monkey. Jumping, running, skipping, climbing, there are no limits. You are brave, a (calculated) risk taker on your own terms and at your own pace. You are strong, independent and determined. Sometimes this leads to tantrums and power struggles and all that fun toddler stuff. But these are qualities that I am thankful you have, because as you grow up, they will help you navigate this big, wild, often difficult world of ours.

I love spending my days with you, sweet girl. I love kissing those smushy cheeks and playing in your little blonde wisps. I love the way you always invite me to share in your snacks and activities, the way you crawl into my lap while I'm working and give me kisses and look at me with those giant blue eyes and say "hi maman!" with that smile of yours. I love your love of music and books and art and the great outdoors. I love watching you dance in the car and hearing you sing to yourself while you go about your day. I love it that you have inside jokes with your papa and that you won't go to sleep without saying a bedtime prayer to thank God for all the people in your life. I love it that you simply must jump in every puddle you see, and that it never gets old. I love you when you spin in your prettiest dress and pretend to brush your hair in the mirror. I love you when your feet are dirty and your fingers are sticky and your hair is crazy and you come flying through the room like a loud, wild whirlwind. I love you when you're sound asleep, curled up in your big bed, uncovered because you've kicked off your blankets, lips in a perfect little pout that I just can't help but kiss, even if I risk waking you. I  just love everything about you. 

Sometimes, when I'm feeling overwhelmed with work and chores and all the other responsibilities that can make life hectic at times, I think about how productive I was before you came along.  Everything is slower now, messier, more complicated, more expensive. But at the same time, everything is more beautiful, more exciting, more meaningful, more memorable, more blessed. I can't imagine life without you. You have my whole heart, and I am crazy about you. 

When you were still in my belly, your Grandmaman told me that children are like a gift that you unwrap a little bit more each day. And she was so right. Every day with you is a gift, and I look forward to unwrapping a little more of it everyday as you continue to grow.

Always know that I love you, more than anything, forever and ever. Je t'aime ma puce.

-Maman xoxo

The Mama Journal | stop. be. enjoy.

As I sit down to write this, my 22 month old daughter is sitting on my lap. Her curly wisps of honey blonde hair are ticking my lips (just begging for kisses!) and her little body is still in its warm and snuggly post-nap state. She is biting into an apple and the juice is running down her chin. Little moments like these make me pause and smile. We've had a tough couple of days, and it's nice to just sit together for a moment. We returned from a lovely little family holiday in Montreal (where David and I grew up and met) a couple of days ago, and while it was so wonderful to get away for a bit, my girl is now reeling from a disrupted sleep routine and a newly acquired cold. Which means this little ray of sunshine is tired and GRUMPY. And so is her mama. Add to that a pile of post-vacay laundry, incessant rain (read: cabin fever) and a few toddler tantrums for good measure, and you've got a pretty good picture of the last few days. I've always been one to look for the good, but in these less-than-perfect moments I inevitably start to see more good in others' lives than in my own. And my perfect idea of how things should be starts to cloud the beauty of right now, however messy it may be. And since comparison is the thief of joy, as they say, that's just not a mindset I want to have. So here's to simply stopping and being and enjoying real life - because even with its messes and struggles and exasperating moments, there is always beauty to be found in it.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm leaving the laundry behind and headed to the park to enjoy this rain-free window (as per my grumpy bear's request!)

-xo

A note about these photos: taken in a friend's gorgeous Montreal apartment. I loved the pure, honest feel of this bright little corner and snapped a few frames of my girl playing by the window. Simple, no frills, no props. Just real, sweet childhood. I thought they were a good fit for this post! :)

The Mama Journal | An Open Letter To The Mom Who Yelled At Me Today

Dear mom-who-yelled-at-me-out-the-car-window-as-you-drove-by-today, hello. We haven't been formally introduced yet (though you definitely broke the ice!) - I'm Sophie. First of all, let me just say that I hope you were on your way to the nearest Starbucks drive-thru, because it seems like you're having a bit of a stressful morning. I mean who yells at random people as they drive by? If I could have, i would have slipped you a dollar so you could add a little whipped cream to your drink - something to turn that frown upside down.

I have to admit I was a little taken aback that you actually rolled down your window to yell at me that my child needed a hat. Because again, who does that? But let me assure you that if you are the new leader of the MMSS Brigade (Mean Moms for Sun Safety), you picked the wrong target. I'm actually pretty obsessive about my fair skinned, light-haired child wearing a hat outside, and before I realized how terrible the ingredients in sunscreen really are, I was all about the highest SPF in town. Now I generally opt for more natural SPF protectors, but it's still a top priority. So you see, mean-mom, you kind of wasted your breath on me. Because I'm with you sister, sun safety is important. But, that's neither here nor there now, is it. Because this post really isn't about sun safety. It's about moms. Mean moms, to be specific.

I'm just assuming that you are indeed a mom. Because sadly, these days it seems only a mom would feel so entitled to put down another random mom out of the blue. It's kind of what a lot of moms do. Whether it's on internet forums, at the park, or - apparently - while driving by. It's a sad reality that I quickly was introduced to as a new mama. I came to realize that everything is cause for war, debate and belittling- everything from your method of delivery to whether or not you vaccinate your kids to what your child wears to the park. Can I be real with you for a minute, mom-who-yelled-at-me? I'm so over the mama-wars. Motherhood rocks. It really does. We're all different women, with different children, making different decisions. And I really wish that we could just stand united on the common ground that we love our kids to the moon and back instead of pointing out each other's flaws.

You're right, mom-who-yelled-at-me-today, my daughter should have been wearing a hat. But here's what you didn't know.

We had been outside for an hour. My 21-month-old daughter had a hat on for 55 of those 60 minutes. In fact, on the way to the park, when my little one decided the hat was lame, I took the time to elaborately explain why we have to wear our hat outside,  and by the time we reached the park, she had learned the phrase "soleil bobo tete, chapeau tete" - which is a simple French way of saying "sun hurts head, hat head". And the hat stayed on. Win! 1 point for me! We spent the next 45 minutes playing at the park, and then decided it was time to walk back home. Did I mention my daughter chose to push her toy stroller (containing a purse, two stuffed animals and a few other toys) to the park? Well, a few seconds before you drove by and schooled me, she decided she was done. She was done pushing the stroller. Done walking. Done wearing her coat. And yes, done wearing her hat. She was hungry. She was tired. She was over our little outing.  And no amount of reasoning, singing, hugs and distracting her with birds and cars was helping anymore. Isn't it great when that happens on a street corner, in front of all the neighbours? I'm sure you've been there, mom-who-yelled-at-me, because we all have. I knew that it was a pretty big accomplishment for my under-two-year-old to have pushed that stroller all the way to the park and 3/4 of the way back. I knew it was lunch time. I knew she was tired. And  you see, mom-who-yelled-at-me, I'm the kind of mom that likes to pick her battles - maybe you are too. When you drove by and saw me carrying a stroller full of toys and a hatless toddler - it wasn't my finest mama moment. But I was just happy I managed to keep her coat on. And here's what I knew, that you didn't. We were 6 houses away from home. 6 houses. I figured that 45 hatless seconds would be ok. Because even though we care about sun safety, we're also big fans of vitamin D and feeling the wind in our hair. And we also know that sometimes, all that really matters is getting your cranky kid home before all H-E-double-hockey-stick breaks loose on the street corner.

So you see, mom-who-yelled-at-me-today, not only was your rant pointless and misguided, it was also mean. I was already feeling pretty embarrassed and exasperated about the whole situation. And to be honest, your words stung. Next time you see a mama struggling on a street corner to carry a giant  cranky toddler and a stroller full of toys home, instead of yelling out to point out what she's doing wrong, why don't you slow down and ask if she needs help? Or tell her you've been there. Or, just keep driving. And mind your own business. But stop being mean. Because how are we ever going to teach our children that bullying is wrong when mamas all over do it all  the time? We're all in this together, and quite frankly I'd much rather sip a mimosa with you and laugh about all of our hilariously exasperating mama stories than engage in this never-ending mama war.

Sincerely,

Sophie

xo

p.s.: this wouldn't be a mama journal post without a few cute photos - so here are a few I snapped last night just as David arrived home from work (we were waiting at the window!).  And if someone points out that Neve isn't wearing a hat, I might cry. lol

The Mama Journal | Everyday Beauty

This week has been difficult for me on an emotional level. I've never been to Boston or Texas, and yet I shed real tears upon hearing the news of the recent tragic events that took place in these cities. Tears that shook me to the core. My heart broke over and over again for the lives that were lost and the countless others that were forever changed. I'm typically a pretty positive person, but this week has been a difficult one to navigate. I don't just turn on the news, turn it off, go to bed and forget. Perhaps that's why I tend to avoid the news in general. I internalize all the sadness and it's hard for me to "turn it off" and go about my daily life without being, well... sad.  There is always something terrible happening, and it would be easy for me to live in a perpetual state of heartbreak. And yet, I don't want to remove myself completely from the injustices and tragedies of this world so that I become disconnected and ignorant. It's a tricky balance - one that I haven't mastered - to maintain perspective by regularly putting oneself in another's shoes while still knowing how to appreciate the familiar comforts and celebrate the beauty of one's own shoes. Does that make any sense at all? Regardless - There was no escaping it this week - it was everywhere I turned, even in my news-free bubble. So this week has been about striving to see the tangible beauty in my everyday world of home while my heart aches for the pain felt elsewhere in the world. I've gathered a small collection of everyday simplicities, sweet moments of childhood experienced with my girl over the past few weeks, that I just wanted to share here. I am so thankful for these beautiful moments that happen even when the world seems to be falling apart. And I am aware more than ever to hold on to them and cherish them, because they can be taken away all too soon.

-xo

Daily book time - Her favourite.

Watching at the window, waiting for Papa to get home for dinner.

Coming full-circle - bathing her baby in the bath she used to fit in

An official introduction to sidewalk chalk on a stormy Saturday morning.

The Mama Journal | Egg Hunt

It is a well known (and well documented) fact that I am a holiday nut. Christmas, Thanksgiving, Easter, Canada Day, you name it. I've always cherished the holiday traditions that my family has carried on, and I always looked forward to starting special festive traditions with my own children.  Easter means a lot of things for our family. We celebrate life, reflect on love, and thank God for a gift so wonderful and so undeserved. Easter is also a time to celebrate those we hold dear. We gather for meals with family and friends, we enjoy the sunshine together, and we indulge in special treats and activities. This year, Neve was actually old enough to grasp the concept of an egg hunt (and old enough to have the occasional taste of chocolate), and I was all over it. After a lovely late afternoon playtime at the park, I scattered some chocolate filled plastic eggs in a nearby field and, in the glow of the setting sun, my girl grasped the handle of her plastic bucket and excitedly got to work. She squealed with joy and hopped from one egg to the other, and when she actually realized what was inside the eggs, well that just took it to a whole new level of best.game.ever. As I watched her, my mama heart nearly exploded with happiness. A memory was made, a tradition was started, and my girl - eyes shining, face grinning, feet hopping - was over-the-moon. I wish I could bottle her childhood innocence and wonder. Instead I snapped a few photographs to hold on to this moment forever. What a blessing and a joy she is.

However you celebrate, may this weekend be a time of joyful memories made for you and your family.

-xo

The Mama Journal | Little Explorer

This week has been trying. At the beginning of the week, Neve was out with a fever. She needed her maman. There were lots of snuggles and kisses and sweet, sweet moments that made me catch my breath and thank God for my little girl. But, as any parent will tell you, caring for a feverish toddler also has its difficult moments. When Neve's fever broke, she was back to her old self again. Which these days, involves a lot of power struggles and cries for independence balanced with wanting my attention every.single.second.of.every.single.day. I'm thankful that the little tantrums and fits of "NON MAMAN!" are short-lived and quickly followed with hugs, kisses and requests to read books in my lap. She's still my sweet, affectionate, hilarious, adorable girl. But boy, is she ever spirited. Which is a nice way of saying she knows what she wants and when she wants it (hint: it's usually NOW). Which is a nice way of saying she is stubborn. Which is a nice way of saying she can throw it down with the best of them. Which is, really, just another way of saying she is sort of like her maman. Lots of deep breathing, lots of hugs, lots of letting her try things on her own and giving her opportunities to make choices and practice independence, even if it means everything.takes.double.the.time.

Of course, part of Neve's strong personality is her love of exploring and learning, which are qualities I am thankful she possesses. As soon as she was feeling up to it, I took her to the woods near our house and let her run, play, touch, pick up, feel and collect bits and pieces of nature all around her. She loved it, and I loved watching her. I actually brought my big girl camera along for the ride, and  I've shared some of our little moments below. Oh, how I long for the warm, golden Summer evenings when the sun comes out to play. But even despite the lack of a "golden hour" and the heavy grey skies, I kind of love these photos. To live in Canada is to embrace each season, so consider this my glass-half-full attempt at making a muddy, gloomy Spring day a little brighter.

-xo