go canada go...

Our father, who art in Vancouver, hockey be thy name.
Thy will be done, thy gold be won, on ice as well as in thy stands.
Give us this day our skates and sticks,
And forgive us our penalties as we forgive those who cross check against us.
Lead us not into elimination, but deliver us to victory.
In the name of the Canadian Mens' Hockey Team,
AMEN.

go big or go home...

Four years is a long time! When I think about who I was and what I was doing four years ago...it kind of blows my mind. It blows my mind in a good way though because it just goes to show how very unpredictable life can be sometimes. Coming from a person who thrives off of routine, I know that this sounds like a odd statement but it's been amazing to see how things have just sort of worked out in the end. Even the really challenging things...it all works itself out and there is something incredibly comforting about that.

I mention all of this because I realized just today that I had neglected to mention to all of you what the next four years of our life was going to look like. Of course, even the best laid plans have their kinks but there are times when you move out of short term plans and take a deliberate and conscious look at the bigger picture.

It kind of goes without saying that we are due to have a baby in a week! Crazy! So most of our life as of late has been in preparation for that monstrosity of an adjustment that is quickly coming our way. But when I say "preparation" I don't just mean setting up a nursery and taking pre-natal classes...I mean in the long run, how do we want our life to look now that we're going to be a bigger family? This was a question that Steve and I pondered for a long time as we began to realize the impact that our choices would have on our family as a whole.

After much prayer and much discussion, we felt that the stars were properly aligned in our world for a change of a bit more drastic proportions...(why stop at just having a baby?!?!)

I have officially been granted a four year leave of absence from my job! Geez, even just seeing the words on a screen looks strange but there you have it; Steve and I decided that with the current growth of our family and the growth of my photography career, that now is a perfect time to leave my desk job and take the proverbial leap into the life of parenthood and self-employment!

When people first here of this plan, I tend to get the standard reaction, being "ummm...isn't that terrifying?" The short answer is yes...at times, the thought of it is. But the long answer is a bit more complex than that. Aside from the fact that our business is thriving (I say our business because while I may be the one taking the pictures...there is simply no way that any of it would be possible without my better half around to be the voice of reason, along with countless other things!), it came down to a question of who do I really want to be? What kind of person do I want to be? What kind of parent do I want to be? What kind of life do I want to live?

I know, it's all rather intense for a Wednesday afternoon but I think that risk comes from asking the big questions...and not just the obvious ones.

So after much contemplation, the answer ended up being quite simple; I want to be happy! I want to be a happy person...a happy parent...and live a happy life! I want to create beautiful things...work with beautiful people...be home to raise a beautiful child...and at the end of the day, I want to be able to say that I took a chance on something...as terrifying as it may be!

I can't say where we'll be four years from now but one thing is for sure...at the end of it, I'll be able to say that I took a leap of faith; that I stepped away from my secure job for a life that was something I previously only ever daydreamed about. I'll be able to say that I left the land of pension plans and statutory holidays so that I could photograph the most amazing brides and grooms on their most amazing of days. I'll be able to say that I traded bi-weekly pay cheques for the immeasurable reward of watching my son grow up.

Mostly though...I'll be able to say that I was brave...

a pair of little ones...

I've been struck lately by how much the physical child living within me has made me more aware of the figurative child within me. Cognitive specialists tend to share a common belief that most forms of anxiety are learned behaviours developed early in childhood and in turn, adults diagnosed with any form of anxiety should pay special attention to the needs of their "inner child" in order to help overcome what can sometimes be a very debilitating condition.

I was once told by my cognitive specialist, after nearly three months of treatment, that according to his findings, for all intents and purposes, I should have, as an adult, become an alcoholic or a drug addict. He told me this so that it could act as a reminder that we all have the ability to make choices in our lives and that while we may be a product of our past...we are never forced to become a prisoner to it. I had apparently chosen to become something different than the textbook definition of what I was supposed to become. At the time, his statement didn't really make me feel much better because while it's true that I didn't subject myself to any form of substance abuse (I've never actually done a single drug of any kind in my entire life), I grew up internalizing a different kind of addiction; I became a chronic worrier and nearly obsessive about pleasing other people. In my mind, this form of self-abuse is just as bad and in some ways, even more toxic.

But then I became pregnant and for the first time in my life, my health and well-being directly affected the health and well-being of another person, and it wasn't long before I started asking myself the ever important question what do I need right now?

This seems like an easy enough question to address but what happens if you've never actually asked yourself that before? What happens when you genuinely don't know the answer because you've never taken the time to find out? This has been my experience over the past number of months.

I can say with utmost certainty that I have spend a great deal of my life putting the needs of others before my own. Truthfully, I haven't really known how to do any differently and in many ways, this has hindered my ability to grow into the person that I hope to be with any degree of confidence. I am changing that now...but it takes time and oh so much patience!

I once read that some years are for asking questions and others are for receiving answers, and I find comfort in this because it reminds me that the questions are just as, if not more, important than the answers. That being said, before I was able to start finding answers to the question what do I need? I found myself venturing more around the question of how much has the role of obligation, guilt and expectation played in my life thus far? Albeit completely unpleasant, this question had be asked because as my favourite author, Elizabeth Gilbert, once wrote "the rules of transcendence insist that you will not advance even one inch closer to divinity as long as you cling to even one last seductive thread of blame." So I began to ask the questions so that I could make room for the answers.

And I have to say that I've been surprised to see what has come up over time; what has come up actually has been this wolverine like desire to protect myself from things that were previously considered acceptable. This has translated into the need for some space, some time and every now and then...a nap!

So as our son gets ready to make his appearance in the world, it turns out that he is not the only child that I will be getting to know. That little dark haired girl inside of me is also making her appearance and helping to change my life in significant ways as well. Both children, with their innocence and wonder, need to be protected and loved and cherished...and both of them, in their own way and by their mere presence, will make my world a better place.

See you soon little ones...

fear and wonder...

"I praise you for I am fearfully and wonderfully made."
~ Psalm 139: 13

Steve and I spent most of the weekend on our family room floor suffering from overlapping colds; me recovering from one and Steve getting ambushed by another. It was Kleenex boxes all around! But despite the puddles of snot and medicinal aids (for him…not me *sulk*), we managed to find so much joy in our time together watching endless movies and two full seasons of Mad Men (don’t start…there’s no turning back!).

At one point in time though, as we were surrounded by blankets and pillows and orange juice, Steve got up to change one of the dvds that we were watching and as he did, I experienced one of those moments in which the world simply slows; when seconds seem like minutes, movements seem frozen, and time simply becomes stillness. It was weird. But during that moment, I noticed my husband. And when I say noticed I mean that I really couldn’t take my eyes off of him. I watched the way his t-shirt hung between his shoulder blades, the freckles on his arms that I love so much, how his boxer always show just above his jeans and the way he spins his wedding ring around his finger. I looked at my husband, with all of these little things that I love so much about him, and realized (for what seemed like the first time) that I am having a child with this man.

It was the strangest, most humbling and most beautiful of moments.

For nearly seven years, I have had this incredible man all to myself. For nearly nine months, I’ve had this little boy all to myself. And pretty soon, I have to share them both. My selfish self endured a split second of sadness at this realization. Then this thought very suddenly hit me: I am this man’s wife and I will be this boy’s mother.

Of all the things that I’ve ever been in my life, nothing has brought me to tears except the implication of that statement: I am this man’s wife and I will be this boy’s mother.

Me.

I have had the privilege of marrying the most amazing man that I have ever known and the blessing of creating a son with him. Together, we will witness his life as we also continue to stand witness to each other’s lives. And this overwhelms me. The love that I feel overwhelms me. The role that I get to play in each of their lives overwhelms me. The gift that has been bestowed on me in the form of these two beautiful men overwhelms me. I overwhelmed by a God so filled with grace.

I am this man’s wife and I will be this boy’s mother.

Me.

in case you thought your day was bad...

I hate being sick.

Of course I do...who doesn't?!?! But I mean that I really hate being sick. I hate having a runny nose, congested sinuses, not being able to taste anything and that horrible feeling that germs are just following me everywhere. I hate the need to clean my bed sheets five times a day in order to rid them of the plague that has infiltrated my immune system and I hate being trapped inside a body that is demanding that you take a time out. I'm a busy girl...I don't have time to be sick!

Further more, I'm a terrible patient! I whine and I sulk and I pout and I make life equally miserable for everyone within sneezing distance of me. It's really a lovely state of affairs!

{be sure to ask Steve sometime about having my wisdom teeth taken out...now there's a story for the record books!}

My one saving grace though is that when it comes to being sick...I'm not opposed to drugs! I generally steer clear of drugs most of the time if I can help it but drastic times call for drastic measures and when I'm sick, I'm more than willing to be in a neo-citron induced coma for any number of days! In fact, I think that my husband would be the first to agree that it's better for everyone's mental health that we always have a steady stash on hand! It has proven to be a necessity for the well-being of all parties involved!

But guess what? I have just stumbled upon a whole new level of misery that I didn't even know was possible; it's called being eight months pregnant and being sick!

I came down with a really nasty cold over the weekend that compelled my doctor to request that I stay home for the week in order to get better (because apparently giving birth is a pleasant enough experience without adding a runny nose to the mix!!!)...so here I am...at home...miserably ill...and not able to indulge in any of my well loved narcotics to get me through in my time of need. One word: BRU-TAL!

And to say that I have been less than delightful while I patiently wait to get better is a bit of a understatement! If you've never seen someone unleash full fledged rage upon a box of Kleenex then by all means...stop by for a visit! I'm quite confident that the idea of giving yourself a root canal will quickly seem far more appealing than sticking around to take care of me!

So yeah, in light of this recent turn of events, my husband has taken the liberty of upgrading my current patient status from "cranky" to "the land where happiness goes to die!"

Oh...and he's also added EPIDURAL in bright red letters to our birth plan!!!!!!!!

a gift from my son...

Five weeks. That’s what’s left; five weeks. In five weeks our son is due. In five weeks, I'll become a Mother and we'll become a family. That’s an awfully short amount of time when you consider that pretty soon a human being will come into this world relying on us for its very survival.

Five weeks.

I thought that when I became pregnant, I would be here more often. I thought that I would find myself writing far more frequently about the experience of carrying a child and the anticipation of becoming a parent. Instead, I found myself simply enjoying the various stages of being pregnant far more than wanting to document it. We haven’t really taken too many pictures and I’ve only posted a handful of blogs about it but that being said, we have taken time every single night for the past eight months to “spend” with our son…to consciously pay attention to his growth, his movements, his existence that is our blessing.

Looking back though, the one thing that I thought I would be forced to address more during this time was the physical changes that come with being pregnant. I’m quite certain that all women go into pregnancy knowing that their bodies will change…but I went into pregnancy anticipating that I would have a lot of difficulty coping with that change. Even though it has improved significantly over the past number of years, my relationship with my body hasn’t always been as healthy as it could be. On many occasions, I have felt betrayed by my body for reasons that have been completely illogical and for reasons that stem farther back than I care to remember. But being pregnant has been far less of a psychological struggle than I thought it would be…and I’m extremely grateful for that. Somehow, in the midst of the past eight months, I have been in a constant state of being able to remind myself just how much of a miracle creating a life really is and so far, my body has done an incredible job of making that happen.

Don’t get me wrong, I still have my anxieties about what my body will be like once our son comes into the world; how it will recover, how it will look (not just to me but also to my husband), how I will adjust “post-baby” and a plethora of other things that run wildly amok in the place that I laughingly call my mind! Those thoughts are still there and they still choose to make themselves at home but somehow, I find myself better able to regain my perspective and sense of center. And it usually happens when our little man moves around and reminds me, yet again, that my body isn’t just carrying another life right now…it’s creating another life; a life that will soon go beyond just him and I, a life that will intrinsically be intertwined in our own and most certainly, a life that will forever matter far more to me than the number of inches affiliated with my waist.

So, what does this mean for you dear readers? Well, I may need to you to remind me of this blog post three months from now in the event that I come back here complaining about my abs that don’t quite look the same!!! Remind me that there was a time when my little boy’s hiccups made me appreciate what my body could do instead of what it looked like.

Already, he's given me the greatest gift of all...and he's not even here yet...

amazing grace...

I keep forgetting to mention it here but, Steve and I have actually changed churches. Well, maybe changed isn’t really the appropriate word. Perhaps chosen is a bit better. We’ve finally chosen a church!

As most of you know, I am Catholic and Steve is Protestant. These are our technical labels but really, neither one of us really considers our faith denominational in any way. We love God and God loves us…regardless of what building we spend our Sunday mornings in. That being said though, for nearly five years, we’ve been splitting ourselves between two churches in order to share our faith among both of our religions. We’ve enjoyed both places but we’ve also felt like we could never really commit to either as long as we were trying to commit to both.

We have decided to stop attending my Catholic church and have committed to a more Biblically based teaching church that isn’t really denominational in any way. If they had to, I’m sure that they would say that they fall under the umbrella of the Protestant faith but their joy lies in simply loving God.

It’s hard to say what swayed us one way instead of the other and the decision was especially hard for me because I truly found God in the Catholic Church and the idea of not returning there every week was a struggle for me. But ultimately, I think that it came down to grace and what could help us grow spiritually as a couple.

I’ve been thinking a lot about grace lately because I think it’s something that sadly, our churches are really lacking these days. In my humble opinion, grace is the one thing that Christians should be embracing more than anything else and further more, teaching the world how to bestow it onto to others. Grace is something that I want our son to learn and grace is also something that I want our son to be surrounded with as he grows up in what can be a very unforgiving world. In order to do so though, we must lead by example and provide him with those surroundings.

I personally know a lot of people who would say the church’s lack of grace is the very reason not to belong to it; that it is just one of the many hypocrisies of organized religion but I have to wonder if running at the simple sight of a flawed design or discomfort is really the way to go…if it’s really the way to make the world a better place? I was having a rather heated “discussion” with someone who felt that religion was simply the crutch of a depleting society and wanted to know where God was during the simpler times; during the morning rush or the evening commute home? My immediate thought was that instead of turning your back on religion because you’re not seeing the arms and eyes of grace during your bus trip home at night…why not be the arms and eyes of grace on that bus instead of waiting for it to appear elsewhere? Why not be the smiling face or the person that gives up their seat for someone else? Grace can only exist because we enable it to…

And this brings us back to our decision to switch churches and the role that grace has played in that decision making; the bottom line is that I want to know God. I want to share in that knowing with my husband and I want our son to know God. But I also want to know God’s grace and to be in a position to teach it to my son, at least to the very best of my abilities. I want to be in a place of loving God instead of always trying to please God (which, let’s face it, simply can’t happen!) and I need the proper place to help nurture that growth in me. One place opened its arms of grace to us more than the other. Not to say that grace didn’t exist in both places…but I do believe that it wasn’t being equally practiced in both.

And so after having struggled with the decision for many months, I reminded myself that God can live in many places at one time…including a place that is different from where I first fell in love with Him.

It’s been a couple of months now since we’ve starting attending our new church exclusively and it’s been wonderful. It’s been filled with worship and gratitude and yes…a unified walk towards grace. It’s been a walk that has helped us to recognize love and peace in the most unlikely of circumstances and to appreciate our place and our purpose in this world…even when it can’t stop swirling around us.

For all of the indecision and the struggle to find my place for the devotion I want to give…I am left with only this: I love my church!

lemonade stand...

I've just come back from church where we're currently studying the Book of Galatians...a truly amazing and beautiful portion of the Bible. We took some time out of our service to pray and be silent for the people, the aid workers, the churches and the Gospel in Haiti. We've made our way our home in the unexpectedly brisk Sunday morning air and are about to indulge in an afternoon of NFL playoffs (perhaps a bit more indulgent for Steve than for myself...but nonetheless...GO SAN DIEGO!), some afternoon reading, perhaps a nap interspersed here and there and all the other glorious things that I love about Sundays!

The upcoming week is going to be a very busy one but for right now...it's still Sunday!

I wanted to hop on the computer briefly before having lunch and after our delightful "date with Jesus" this morning, our spontaneous trip to Chapters (Elizabeth Gilbert's new book is out...so exciting!) and my delicious Starbucks in hand...I really didn't think that today could get much better! But low and behold...

I went online this morning to discover that my tiny little corner of cyberspace has been bestowed with the Lemonade Stand Award by my ever so brilliant writer and blogger friend, The Nerdy Nomad!


I was quite humbled to discover that the Lemonade Stand is awarded to bloggers who show great attitude and gratitude, and there just a few rules for accepting this wonderful award:

• Put the Lemonade logo on your blog or within your post.

• Nominate atleast 10 other blogs with great attitude or gratitude.

• Link the nominees within your post.

• Let the nominees know they have received this award by commenting on their blog.

• Share the love and link to the person from whom you received this award.

So, now that I've been awarded, it's time to pass the torch to ten of my favourite bloggers!

• 1001 Days In the Life
• Chez Nadia
• The Patron Saint of Perpetual Dynamite
• Life's Little Wonders
• Upon A Smile
• Mom To The 6th
• Quiet Laughter
• Me and Mr. Hodgkins (OUTSTANDING blog!)
• Inside Jamie
• Sammy Oxendahl Photography

So here's to you, great bloggers, who - for a variety of reasons - keep me thinking, and laughing, and smiling and of course, grateful!

Enjoy!

baby pool time...

Ladies and Gentlemen...it's time to start placing your bets!

Baby Smyth is going to be making his arrival soon but the question is...when exactly?!?!

Start submitting your guesses for the date and time of our little man's arrival and whoever is closest WINS (and you'll win more than just bragging rights!)!

My official due date is March 5th...

As Mom-to-be, I'm betting that he arrives just in time to interrupt our viewing of the Olympic Gold Medal Hockey Game!!

Happy Guessing!

p.s. Be thankful that Steve isn't in charge of coordinating this because his suggestion included having the winner pay for our little guy's education!!!!

bring it...

Ummmm…it’s 2010! I realize that it has been 2010 for nearly a week already but the fact that it’s 2010 means that we are no longer having a baby next year…it means that we are having a baby THIS year. And not only are we having a baby this year…but are due to have a baby in less than two months! Does anyone else find this altogether too strange?!?!

If I were superstitious, which I sometimes can be, and considered the rolling over of the new year to be a direct reflection of the year to come, then ours will be one of total laziness (which, as indulgent as that sounds, I highly doubt is going to be the case!!)! Steve and I enjoyed a much needed date for our new year’s eve which included a movie, the final shootout between the Canada and U.S. junior hockey teams (you’re still golden in my eyes Canada!) and an uneventful countdown in bed with our books and our favourite feline. It was delightful! Steve then spent all of new year’s day on the couch finishing his book while I sat in the dining room with Michael Buble as we did an online recap of the year gone by! Oh, and it also included pancakes with whipped cream!!! Again…delightful!

The irony of all this though is that it’s been my only lazy day since! I have not seen even the slightest glimpse of laziness since new year’s day came to an end! Part of it is certainly my own doing given that I feel the idea to be as organized as possible now in order to better handle the inevitable chaos later but nonetheless…I am up to four to-do lists! FOUR! Isn’t there rules against stuff like that?!?!

All this to say that I haven’t forgotten about you blog land…I’m just multi-tasking…with a vengeance!

In the meantime, I’m putting together a playlist in order to promote the musical education of our son…and I’m open to suggestions!

Bring it…

olympic fever...

So not only is Christmas just around the corner...but so is the Olympics and I.can't.wait.

I can't tell you enough how much I love the Olympics! It's the one time every couple of years when I park myself in front of the television for hours on end in a mad attempt to catch as much of it live as possible. I just love the joy, the excitement, the patriotism and the way it seems to bring the whole world together.

I actually went to school with the intention of working for the Olympics and quickly realized that a life on the Olympic committee conflicted greatly with my home-body personality and the Olympics ended up being better enjoyed from the comforts of my living room instead! Meh...it seemed like a good idea at the time!

Luckily for me, my maternity leave happens to be timed quite conveniently with the opening ceremonies which may mean a couple of weeks of uninterrupted Olympic watching on HD!!!! Way to go Baby Boy Smyth!!

Anyways, with the Olympics only being a few short months away, this past weekend we welcomed the Olympic Torch Relay to the Nation's Capital and it was the absolute perfect winter weekend to do so! Roughly a hundred different runners carried it through our city and the enthusiasm it created was palpable! Every where you turned, someone had Olympic fever...most of all, myself!

So Steve and I bundled up, headed out in the cold to greet the Flame as it crossed the bridge from Quebec to Ottawa and contributed our bit of Olympic spirit to the nation wide excitement! As it turns out, we managed to cross paths with it four times throughout the day instead of just the once which just kept the party going...

Below is a great YouTube video put together of the Flame's visit to Ottawa, as well as a couple of highlights from our day!!

~~~

Bryan Murray (GM of the Ottawa Senators) & I, waiting for the Flame to arrive...

The Flame making its way down from Nepean Point...

The hand over...

The scene in the ByWard Market later that afternoon...

YouTube video (and great virtual tour of Ottawa!!!)...

I'd like to thank the academy...

So, somehow, with me barely noticing it…I entered my third trimester with “Lil’ Fisher” (as he’s being lovingly dubbed by Aunt Lindsay!)! We have less than three months left before our little man makes his appearance and I feel the need to mention how overwhelmed I am at how loved he is…and not just by us.

This little boy, that we have yet to meet, has been spoiled rotten with love and affection already in every way imaginable. And Steve and I are the least guilty of the culprits so far!!

I get that pregnancy isn’t easy for everybody (including me at times as I barfed all over Italy this summer!!!) but I still can’t help but relish in how much fun it is! I can’t help but wake up every morning and think “Oh man…there is a little person growing in there!!” Seriously…it blows my mind! Steve and I spend a good chunk of our evenings laughing at his elbow drops and somersaults and given how active he is, he has proven to provide endless entertainment for my colleagues on a daily basis!!

All in all…he cracks me up!

As do pre-natal classes for that matter!! Actually, with all due respect to the City of Ottawa and their nurses who are assigned the task of explaining to us “where babies come from”…but pre-natal classes are painful to sit through!!! In fact, I’m kind of surprised that we didn’t get kicked out for being little shit disturbers! But really, how is anyone expected to sit through these classes with a straight face when you have a middle-aged nurse with her fly down, explaining the likes of labour with a foam pelvis?!?! Let’s be fair!

And then there was the lesson on “skin-to-skin”; the new school of thought that some hospitals are taking regarding your first contact with your baby after birth (blanket vs. direct skin contact). I have to wonder why they came up with that name above all others because isn’t “skin-to-skin” what got us into this pre-natal class in the first place?!?!?

On another note…we’ve chosen a name (don’t ask…we’re not telling!) and I LOVE IT!

My biggest (and only) objection with having a boy was that Steve and I, in all the years that we’ve been together, were never able to agree on a name in the event that we had a son instead of a daughter. So when we first found out, all I could envision were constant “vetoes” being thrown around the house as we plowed our way through the alphabet! And it was actually like that for a little while…so much so that the name “veto” started to sound somewhat appealing!!

But then we found it…and it’s amazing! I can’t wait to share it with you in due time!

So I’ll end off this rather long-winded post with a few well deserved thank-yous;

Thank you City of Ottawa for providing us with some of the very best laughs of our adult life as we sat through the twenty year old, over dubbed video on breast-feeding. Classic!

Thank you to Virgin Radio and its morning show for giving us the best.name.ever. We’ll be sure to make you a part of his musical education when he turns eighteen and the echo of your on-air sexual innuendos stop being a reason for social services to make a visit to our house!

And lastly…thank you to our friends and family for loving our son so much. He’s seriously the luckiest little guy ever…

excuses, excuses...

Being pregnant makes me sleepy.

Being sleepy makes it hard to blog.

Blame my son!

daily guidance...

A colleague of mine has this great love affair with new age philosophy. She has a very strong belief that our energy and thoughts manifest themselves into our reality, hence happier thoughts create a happier life! I am certainly not one to dispute this! Obviously though, coming from a more religious stand point, I don’t believe this in the same way. Then again, maybe it is all the same at the end of the day but either way, I enjoy hearing her talk about it and practice it.

One day she brought to work a stack of “Oracle Angel Cards”; it’s a box of 100 cards that you shuffle in your hands and, word has it, that as you shuffle them, your energy fuses the cards. After you’ve shuffled them, you’re supposed to pick a card from the deck and whatever card you pull is suppose to provide you with the necessary wisdom that you need at that time. Since their arrival in our office, they have become part of our morning routine! We all gather around her desk, coffees in hand, chat about our evening and take turns pulling our angel card!

I have to admit that the cards I tend to pull usually seem to have a rather unnerving relevance to my life at the time and there are moments in which I scrunch up my face and think to myself “stupid angels…think they know everything!” but surely enough, I keep coming back for more!

I spent this past weekend taking a mental vacation from all things work related; I slept in, took lots of naps, had lunch out, went to the movies, did some Christmas shopping and over all, just spent some good quality time not working. Starting a new business hasn’t left me much free time over the past eight months so it was a welcome reprieve from the routine that has developed over the course of this year. And after having made some pretty heavy decisions regarding my future… “checking out” for the weekend was just what the doctor ordered!

It’s intriguing being at such a crossroad in my life; leaving one career path behind in exchange for another…and it feels strange…and exciting…and scary…and, at times, downright crazy! I’m leaving the life that I’ve always known behind for one that I’ve always dreamed of and hoped for and it’s really easy to ask yourself if you’re making the right decision. I know that I am, but it doesn’t stop the question from rearing its ugly head every now and then!

That’s why I was quite relieved that after having spent much too long knee deep in decision making, I ended up pulling the following card this morning:

Change in Direction

The changes you’re experiencing are Divinely directed by your newborn willingness to open your heart to love and our guidance. You are protected now and in the future, so follow your path to the happy outcomes your desire.

This card signifies that you’ve had a change of heart that has altered the direction of your life in a positive way. Your old ways of living no longer interest you, and you find yourself avoiding friends and pastimes that previously attracted you. You desire a lifestyle and career that will better fit your new interests and passions. The angels are guiding you through this time of transition. The Law of Attraction insures that you’ll manifest wonderful new opportunities and relationships.

Additional meanings for this card: You’re starting a new phase of your life ~ The birth of a new projects is in the works ~ Pregnancy, birth, or the adoption of a child is possible ~ A new element in your life is a blessing, even if it doesn’t make sense right now.

~~~

Now, if only Oracle cards were legally binding in the province of Ontario!!!

just so we're clear...

...it's never too early to start the propaganda!!!

falling down the rabbit hole...

I saw a lady running with her dog and a stroller this morning as Steve and I drove into to work. It hasn’t snowed yet in Ottawa but our mornings are very calm and frost covered these days. I’m always envious of those people that I see who are leisurely drinking their coffee or out taking a morning stroll as we are making our way into the office. While I’ve never really been much of a morning person, I have always enjoyed it once my senses manage to catch up with the rest of me but I’ve never really had the chance to be “that person” because I’ve been too busy pursuing my life at an office…in front of computer…with annual salaries and health benefits.

I once read that most of us spend our days doing jobs that simply aren’t big enough for our spirits. Actually, at the time I kind of felt like it had been written just for me! I’ve struggled with this idea of “out growing my job” for some time but that being said, I also strongly believe that there is a practical side to life that can’t be overlooked. Education, homes, weddings, vacations…the experiences of life don’t come cheap and I think that it’s more than a worthwhile investment to spend some time considering how you’re going to pay for them because let’s face it, regardless of the type of relationship you have with money…the economics of the world aren’t going anywhere.

So this brings us back to this morning and my state of envy. I’ve never been built for a nine to five life. I’m good at it and I’m quite blessed to be able to do it in what is, quite frankly, one of the most beautiful places in the country, but nonetheless, it’s still not the nature that is my beast. Since graduating university, I’ve worked very hard at gaining new experiences, building a financial foundation with that experience and doing my best to make the whole process as pleasurable as possible. And I think that I’ve done a good job because it has been a lot of fun; I’ve learned amazing new things, experienced first hand some of the most profound times in the history of politics and the fine arts, and most importantly, I have met some of the most extraordinary people that I know will be in my life for all the rest of my days. So most definitively, it has been eight years very well spent.

As we both looked out the car window at the woman jogging along side us, Steve smiled at me and said “don’t worry…that’s going to be you pretty soon” and that’s when I realized that he was right…that things are changing. It’s kind of a strange and unique time in our life because not only are we expecting our baby in a few months but my business has begun to grow in a way that deserves some serious consideration on our part. We are starting to consider that we may be done putting in our time of being practical. We are starting to consider that the financial stability of an “ideal” job may not be worth the cost of feeling creatively caged. We are starting to consider that it might just be time…

I am officially already booked to photograph weddings next summer and the inquiries are continuing to roll in. We are currently working with design companies to start producing albums for clients and I’m in the midst of hiring second shooters. This is a blessing that far exceeds any of our most hopeful expectations for my photography. I will, of course, be limiting the amount of work that I do next year in order to spend lots of time with the new man in my life but we’ve agreed that the degree of interest in my work right now can’t be overlooked and it’s led us towards the appeal of trading in my government clearance for days spent behind a camera.

Believe me when I say that the idea of leaving my full-time permanent position with a crown corporation in order to take a giant leap into the unknown of being self-employed is nothing short of terrifying. But it also begs the question of whether or not anything is quite as terrifying as turning your back on something that makes you blissfully happy, regardless of the potential uncertainty? Is it worth turning down the cumulative interest of living more genuinely for a better pension plan and an annual Christmas party?

I really don’t think so and never before in my life have I ever been more drawn to the edge of uncertainty. For someone who’s always choosing to play it safe, I’m deciding for the first time to play it passionately.

And truth be told, I have no idea what will come of it. I may succeed…I may fail. But either way, I am certainly going to enjoy spending my mornings on the other side of the car door!

life on paper...

Many, many years ago, a dear friend of mine gave me a journal for my birthday. I’ve had many journals in my life but none of them have ever “stuck”. They all sit in my night stand now with a page or two filled out. For some reason, something about them just didn’t feel right. This one was perfect though. It was brown with a leather cover, lined, gold-trimmed pages and the best part of all; my friend actually filled the first page for me knowing that that was always the hardest part for me! She filled it with beautiful words about our friendship, our lives, our memories and then ended it off with a little reminder that, if nothing else, I at least owed it to my future children to put my life on paper.

That was five years ago and now I only have four pages left.

I don’t know how many pages are in this journal but I have spent five years filling every page of it with my most intimate thoughts. I can honestly say that I never leave the house without it. I grab my journal long before I hunt down my keys or my wallet. It’s been with me through getting engaged, getting married, joining a new family, finding new friends, letting go of other friends, buying a house, seeing the world, leaving jobs, starting new ones, being afraid, being uplifted, praising God, yelling at God, and of course, becoming pregnant. Ironically enough though, all of this “record keeping” for my future children means that this journal won’t be the one to record the day that he ultimately comes into our life!

The dilemma that I find myself conflicted with is what to do with it now that it’s done?

I’m certainly not ready to have anyone read it and in all honesty, I may never be. But I’m also not ready to leave it sitting dormant somewhere only to get forgotten about. One of my colleagues said that she has a box at home that a friend entrusted to her for safe keeping. She said that she’s had it sitting in her bedroom closet for years so she can play guardian over it; protect it from the wrong hands and yet ensure that its memory never dies. She has no idea what’s in it, how long she’ll have it or why her cats seem to like it so much (!!) but all she knows is that when the time is right, whenever that may be, her friend will want it back. It’s really quite eloquent and romantic in its own way, and something that I will certainly give some thought to. Until then though, it will remain under my arm as my most important travel companion.

But speaking of journals and the number four…this is also my four hundredth post!

C.RA.ZY.

Thanks to everyone for their interest in a seemingly uninteresting life!

baby update...

Here we are folks...twenty-two weeks in and only four months away!!! For the many, many (!!) people who have been desperately requesting update pictures...I won't keep you waiting any longer...

Our baby boy at 18 weeks...

and our baby belly at 19 weeks...

Don't be deceived by these pictures though...I'm a total tank now!!

the flip side...

I started working on Parliament Hill the week after 9/11. I was starting a new job in the one of the most heated environments in the country at the time and to say that anxiety lurked in every corner was certainly a bit of an understatement. Tension and sadness was every where. No one knew what to make of everything that had just happened and our world just looked different.

Being a political assistant, one of the components of my job was to take all of the constituent calls coming in for the Member of Parliament and doing so with an unbiased opinion or political position. My job was to sit in the one of the most emotional charged places while remaining in a nonpartisan position.

I know that this is going to come off sounding somewhat ridiculous for someone that spent nearly four years walking the halls of Parliament Hill…but I don’t actually care much for politics! While I understand, respect and appreciate its role, I also believe that our country holds itself to a certain societal standard that can withstand even the most tumultuous of political hurricanes.

This “at-an-arm’s-length-from-the-political-stratosphere” belief system does have a few exceptions though…and war is one of them…

I have a hard time with war. I have a hard time understanding war and I have a hard time believing in war. I know that there are reasons that are beyond my comprehension because as I’ve mentioned here before, history is always written by the winners; those who are left standing and can tell the story…usually while leaving the other side out. So I do understand that there are reasons beyond what I can see; rights, safety, responsibility to help those who can’t necessarily help themselves. But no matter how much I rationalize this in my head…all I can think about is the loss; the loss of innocence, the loss of life, the loss of decency. There is so much extraordinary loss…and that, in turn, becomes the other side of the story.

The week that I started my new job was that the same week that our Prime Minister at the time, Mr. Jean Chretien, declared that Canada would not be joining President Bush’s War on Terrorism. I’ve always been a big fan of Mr. Chretien but I’ve never been as proud of him as I was on that day!

Allow me to apologize now if I happen to offend of my U.S. readers (or Canadian readers for that matter) but I just need to say that for whatever impact President Bush may have had on my views regarding war, he lost me entirely when he stated that “you’re either with us or you’re against us”. No matter how strong the argument may be or how tragic the events leading up it; war is simply not black or white.

I can only speak for myself when I say that such a statement made me feel bullied. It made me feel like some big kid at school was trying to back me into a corner and threatening to steal my lunch money every day if I didn’t join the after school fight that was about to happen in the playground. And I’m not trying to imply that this war was or is a childish battle of kids fighting over sand in sandbox…I’m just trying to say that ultimatums aren’t often very effective…even when you are the biggest kid in school.

So allow me to backtrack once again to 2001, the week following Mr. Chretien’s statement. I was being riddled with phone calls in the office from constituents wanting to share their views regarding his decision. Some were angry, some were happy and others just sat on the phone and cried. It was a hard week. That Friday afternoon, around 4:15pm, a gentleman called to express his outrage at Mr. Chretien’s decision and how he should be forced to step down as Prime Minister because he’d become a disgrace to our country.

I had been taking in people’s emotions for two weeks now and I had been forced to politely sit there responding as though I was one of the few that had somehow been immunized from the effects of what was going on around me. This could only go on for so long. So after listening to him literally yell at me on the phone for twenty minutes, the nonpartisan, unbiased side of me began to fade away and the well bred debater in me began to emerge. We began to chat for a little while…we began to ask questions. We stopped being a constituent and a political office and started being two people facing the prospect of war. I asked him if he had any children…he said yes; a son and a daughter. I asked him if either of them were in the military; he said no. I asked him if he would still support this war to the same degree if either of them were going to be the ones to fight it; he was silent…and he was appalled.

I had apparently just flown the emotional equivalent of a terrorist piloted plane into his argument and now a different kind of war had begun.

He just hung up on me. No other words. No retaliation. He was just gone.

I didn’t ask him these questions to be rude or disrespectful; I asked them because I felt that it was too easy to see this battle as nothing more than a political statement when it is in fact a war that someone has to fight. And that someone might be somebody’s brother or sister; mother or father; wife or husband…but at the very least, that someone is always somebody’s child. And not all of those children are going to come home.

It’s easier to support a war when you know that you won’t be the one receiving a phone call in the middle of the night or holding the flag once draped over a casket. But that’s what war really is; when you peel away all of the political agendas, media frenzies, economic impacts and cloaks of good intention…you have somebody’s child. And that’s always what the real question should be; would you be willing to sacrifice your child to this cause…because that’s very well what you may end up doing?

I think that this is as good a time as any to mention that while I may not support the need to send people to war, I do recognize the choice that many people have made on their own to do so and I support their efforts in the midst of it. But even that hasn’t come without its own line of questioning. I fully acknowledge that past sacrifices were made for our present freedoms but I guess my ideals for the world just leave me in a position of wishing that we never had to sacrifice anyone to begin with. So it seems though, there will always be fights to be fought and battles to be won and now it’s our turn to bear the potential brunt of that sacrifice.

My brother-in-law was shipped off to Afghanistan on Monday to spend nine months fighting in a place that keeps sending our men and women home in wooden boxes. He’s going to fly our soldiers around because they keep getting killed by roadside bombs. And while I’m beyond proud of him for what he’s willing to do for his country, I don’t enjoy listening to my six year niece on the phone talking about how her daddy has to go away for a long time; or watching my sister-in-law become a single parent for close to a year; or hearing his mother’s teary-eyed account of saying goodbye to her oldest son; or holding my breath every time the news comes on. I don’t enjoy experiencing first hand what it’s like when somebody’s child goes to war because as I once heard said a long time ago; War is not about who’s right…it’s about who’s left.

Come home soon Jeff…and come home safely…

a word to the young...

This could quite possibly be the very best thing that I've ever seen...!!!!