family

Pumpkin patch dreams & nature’s healing

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This past weekend, we ventured to the Gatineau, Quebec side for a farm adventure. Having grown up in Ottawa but spent much of my childhood crossing the bridge with my parents, driving there again — with my own family this time around — after decades, was very reminiscent of old times. I loved the drive there. There’s something relaxing about the Aylmer side of Gatineau. All the nature and trees… it was incredibly scenic and calming.

When we arrived at Potager Eardley, I noted just how busy it was. It was buzzing with human bees. There was beauty in the farm’s simplicity, which I appreciated. There was just enough to keep kids and families entertained and smiling. There was a simple playground, some farm animals, and the shop where one could purchase fresh fruits and veggies, fall decorations, and baked goods as well as coffee. We ordered a waffle with fruits and whipped cream for Keaton, which he — and ultimately, we — enjoyed greatly.

An activity that we did was apple picking. We embarked on the tractor wagon to the apple orchard, and upon arrival, I noted how the apples just adorned the trees like fall ornaments. There was an abundance of apples. While we all enjoyed apple picking, the experience was really dedicated to my mom, who finds the utmost joy in the activity. As soon as she hopped off the wagon, she was off on her own solo adventure filling her bag. It was a funny and cute sight to see her enjoy something so much. (It’s rare to see my mom do anything fun or for herself, so these moments are very meaningful.)

Mom’s bag was filled with Gala apples (her pick), and oh boy, were they ever crisp, juicy, and scrumptious! I don’t think I’ve ever had a Gala apple that fresh. Keaton also enjoyed an apple or two whilst running around the orchard and being playful. It was so sweet to see him hanging by Mama’s side while she was picking apples. He adores her so much, as well as his Kong-Kong. Following our apple picking adventure, we ventured back to the farm to embark on another adventure: pumpkin picking at the pumpkin patch, at the farm’s second location.

We were about to leave when Keaton wanted to stay back and play at the hay bales. There were plenty of kids there, and that’s where he met his new friend, David, who was a bit older than he was. At this point, being pregnant and tired, I’d waited in the car with my mom, while my husband and dad stayed out with Keaton. According to my husband, Keaton had had a blast running around with the older boy, who was so smitten with him he’d call him, “baby, baby!” I’m not sure what it is — perhaps it’s his charisma and confidence — but older children tend to gravitate towards Keaton, and vice versa. For some reason, they just love playing with him. It’s so endearing to watch.

Finally, we drove to the farm’s pumpkin patch, which was located only five minutes from the main farm by car. As we were driving into the parking lot, I was astonished by all the orange pumpkins I saw from afar. I must’ve screeched with excitement many times over. I was so excited to grab a wagon and run off to the fields. It was the most magical autumn sight I’d ever witnessed my whole life.

I’ve always wanted to go to a pumpkin patch ever since I was young. I just never had the opportunity, because without a car and without those around me who could venture far, it just wasn’t feasible. Finally, years later, I found myself at one; and it was the most dreamy pumpkin patch I could’ve ever imagined. There were thousands of pumpkins — an endless sight to behold — that were scattered geometrically to perfection in their chaos.

So far, I’ve been disappointed by the pumpkin patches at farms I’ve visited in Ottawa. The pumpkins in the pumpkin patches were either scarce, or there was just a display of pumpkins that were pre-picked and laid out in the fields. But this one was real; it really was where pumpkins had been harvested and grown. I may be a serious geek, but I definitely swooned over this pumpkin patch. One could be a mother and still be a big kid at heart, right?

Kong-Ma and Keaton also enjoyed the experience. Mom had picked a few lovely pumpkins, and Keaton and I both chose our own, as well. As we were leaving, my husband also bought a few drinks for Keaton that were in a cute pumpkin bottle. It was apple cider, which I wasn’t aware of. I could see now why Keaton drank both bottles, and why so many people rave over it. I don’t think I’ve ever had apple cider; but when I tasted it, it was so fresh and heavenly. We should’ve bought the jugs!

We’ve got a whole collection of pumpkins that we’ve been collecting from all the farms we’ve visited so far. I love how they add colour and vibrancy to the home. Though, I can’t say for now that we’ll stop there. Maybe our whole house will become a pumpkin patch itself.

For now, we’ve been keeping the pumpkins inside the house. We’d left Keaton’s pumpkins and gourds outside in our backyard once, alongside our mums — it was his wish — but the squirrels and chipmunks ate them! (Keaton’s reaction was hilarious. He was so distraught.) In fact, one day a squirrel came knocking at our door, mayhaps looking for Keaton, whom it knew owns all the good stuff.

My husband and I’s five-year anniversary, and two-year wedding anniversary, is fast approaching. Because we’ll be celebrating Thanksgiving next weekend with my sister and parents — Canadian Thanksgiving happens earlier than its American counterpart — we decided to celebrate our anniversary earlier, and to do a very simple activity: a romantic walk along the Mer Bleue Bog Trail.

As a couple, we rarely have the time to do activities together in the midst of our busy lives. In fact, since Keaton was born — we’re also expecting a second child — we rarely went on a date or had time to ourselves. Thus, we really appreciate simple moments where we can simply be and exist alongside each other, and be present.

The Mer Bleue Bog Trail was a perfect pick for us that day. We ventured in the early morning, so it was still relatively calm and quiet, with very few visitors. We enjoyed the silence most of all, and hearing the trees and plants dancing with the wind’s shake and prod.

We’d stopped here for a short while. While it was a chilly morning, the sun shining directly at us provided us with a natural warm blanket on our skin. This is where I began to cry. It had been years since I last spent time in nature, by myself in solitude or with my dear husband. These were years where I’d felt the most distanced from nature, and ultimately, from myself. Now, I wasn’t with my son, who needed my mind, heart, and soul at every moment. I could finally feel myself feel and think.

Being in this moment allowed me to feel calm and safe. It was a conducive environment to concoct an emotional me. All that had been repressed had no choice but to surface. My husband held me as he encouraged me to let my emotions run their course. I can’t hide from myself when I’m in nature. Nature isn’t easily fooled. It’s a wise teacher. It sees, it invites, it opens, it heals.

I don’t think I’ve seen so many beautiful birds at once. There were blue jays, little black and white chubby birds that would sit on one’s hand (I’m not sure what they’re called), snakes, and numerous chipmunks — at least that my eyes were able to detect. It was my first time seeing a snake in person. It was a baby garter snake. I’d heard rustling in the leaves and thought it was a little chipmunk or frog, only to realize it was a snake! (I’m deathly afraid of snakes, but this little guy was actually, dare I say, cute.)

Our date lasted perhaps an hour or so — we then took off to grab some Montreal style smoked meat that my husband had been craving — but it was the most wholesome date we could’ve asked for. We came home to ourselves and to each other, and ultimately, to our son.

The walk was so neat that we invited my parents to come along to the Bog with Keaton later in the afternoon. Alas, we found ourselves there a second time that day. What a treat in nature it was.

We had to wake up Keaton from his nap in the car, because at that point, my parents had already been on the go. They were having fun without us! Keaton quickly caught up, and when he saw his Kong-Ma from afar, he yelled for them to wait for him. It was so cute.

The whole walk along the boardwalk was surprisingly relaxing with our energetic toddler. He listened well and stayed alongside us, and was a very good sport. We were very proud of him. He also liked to narrate — and police — what he was observing. Such a funny little dude.

Mama’s collecting rocks

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Yesterday’s visit to Proulx Farm, which was only a few steps from Orleans and a 30-minute drive east of downtown Ottawa.

Every year, the farm is transformed into an autumn- and Halloween-themed playground. It really is an enjoyable experience for families, couples, or individuals — everyone, really! There’s just so much to see and explore.

We appreciated how vast and open, yet how well-organized, the farm and its activity set-up was. The tractor wagon ride was our favourite activity. It was actually a long ride around the farm — not just a quick tour — that encouraged us to observe all the Halloween decorations and animated hay bales along the way. The hay bales were so impressive in their creativity. I loved the ox and the cow. We were also introduced to a haunted Halloween house, which, although Keaton was hesitant to enter at first, by the end of it, enjoyed so much, he exclaimed, “Oh, nice!”

We also loved that the tractor driver was able to drop us off at our desired activity. We got off at the pumpkin patch along with another family. They’d left right away, perhaps because the hike to the field was patchy and full of tall grass and dirt. So, we were on our own and enjoyed all the quiet and solitude in the world. There weren’t many pumpkins at the patch, unfortunately, but the experience was still a treat. Keaton chose one he liked. Shortly after, another tractor wagon came to pick us up along the way. (We never saw the other family after this experience, and I do wonder if they’d gone to the maze after the pumpkin patch… and if they indeed got lost and never made it out.)

There was also an abundance of activities for kids to enjoy at the farm: animal petting, mazes, bouncy castles, face painting, treehouses and playgrounds, you name it. Keaton didn’t want to get his face painted this time around. We were bummed because he was so cute when he was a tiger the very first time he got his face painted. (Oh well.) We also liked that there were many picnic tables to have snacks and lunch, and they also sold hot dogs and burgers.

We’d spent a whopping four plus hours at the farm — Keaton fell asleep hard in the car when we left — and prior to leaving, we grabbed some more pumpkins for the home. There were so many varieties of pumpkins of different shapes, colours, and sizes. Of course, it was bright and sunny and the leaves were still green, but if it’d been a cloudy, crispy sweater weather kind of day, with orange and red tones in the trees, it would’ve made for the perfect autumn scene.

“Sheeep, heeere, yum yummm!”

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I did a little something: I pulled out my fall decorations, as well as some Halloween ones, prior to September. It’s my happy time and place. It’s also been raining and much cooler these days, so the theme was quite fitting. Seeing the autumn details around the home makes me feel cozy and warm, and ready to embrace the changing season and cold sweater weather — and cuddle weather, too. 

I’ve been loving our new fall- and Halloween-themed Snoopy mugs. Drinking coffee from them in the morning brings me an insurmountable amount of joy. Snoopy’s my all-time favourite comic strip character. He’s cute, he’s sassy, he’s a dreamer, he’s unapologetically resilient, he’s comical, he’s a cookie monster, he’s a romantic, he’s a shit-disturber. He’s wholesome. 

Speaking of an autumn feel, we’ve been visiting many farms lately — we seem to be on a roll. The first one we visited was just at the end of August, when Keaton’s grandmother, Nana, visited. We went to Saunders Farm. There were plenty of activities and play structures for kids to entertain themselves with, as well as ample of space for them to run loose, which was a major plus for Keaton to release all his energy. 

We all really enjoyed the tractor wagon ride. Keaton looked uncertain when he first sat down in the wagon, even if he was excited to go on it. It took a moment — as soon as the wagon started going — for him to find comfort and fun in the ride. He liked it so much that we did it twice! I, too, found the experience both fun and soothing. My husband said he hadn’t seen me smile this much in a long time. It’s true that I was very happy that day. A beautiful day with loved ones and my kid smiling, and experiencing a wagon ride that I’ve always wanted to try as a kid, was enough to set my heart ablaze with happiness. 

But of course my parental bliss didn’t last long. Shortly after, our hearts sank at the farm’s infamous maze. Keaton had slipped away during our quest. Our little dude is so fast and wild, he slipped away from underneath the trees. It wasn’t out of mean-spiritedness or because he’s rambunctious; it’s because he just wanted to play and for us to chase him. He was having fun being playful; but for us parents and adults, our hearts skipped a beat when he ran off laughing. Luckily, Nana caught up with him quickly. Oh boy, do we ever consider leashing our little guy! Alas, that was our crazy adventure of the day. 

I loved the Halloween decorations at the gift shop. Oranges and blacks, gnomes and ghosts, pumpkins and scarecrows — I was already in the Halloween mood. I can’t wait to be back at this farm for pumpkin season. If summertime is already a sweet sight, imagine when the leaves start to transform into yellow, orange, red, and brown hues, and when the weather is more crisp and pumpkin season is here. This farm would transform into an oasis of autumn!

The next treat we had the pleasure of indulging in was apple-picking at an orchard. We took my parents with us, too. Because we were at the peak of apple-picking season, there were plenty of apples to pick from trees. It was a magical sight. The orchard blossomed with so many apples that I could easily picture how romantic it would be to have a wedding or family photoshoot there.

Of course, with a toddler — a strong-willed and spirited one — outings are never easy. Keaton fussed the entire time we were there because he wanted to see a tractor; he wasn’t entertained by the orchard. I felt my heart swell with hopelessness as I looked around and saw other parents calmly strolling around with their easygoing kids. I’d really hoped for a nice family moment; we rarely have these moments in our lives because our son has never been an easy one. Babies and toddlers who are able to just accompany their parents? Completely foreign to us. We can’t deny how it kills our souls sometimes. Yet, difficult as he is, we love our little dude just the same. He’s wildly aware and intelligent, and we’re very proud of who he is.

The other challenging part of our experience were the wasps. It’s wasp season so we’d been visited by many buzzing guests, who were attracted to our apples and to our very existence — alas, sweetness was everywhere. They even followed us all the way back to the parking lot and our car. It was like a comedic horror movie featuring our clumsy family of five, who were trying to escape a zombie raid. What an experience that day was. It had its flaws, but I was still very grateful for the moments we shared as a family.

It was an especially special day because it was my parents’ first outing with us — the first time they really got to do an activity in their lives. And I say this with a heavy heart. My mom really enjoyed the apple-picking experience; she picked the whole bag while we were losing our heads with our kiddo. My dad also enjoyed taking photos. As for Keaton, he, too, enjoyed climbing the ladder to pick the apples, as well as eating the orchard’s infamous churros. While they weren’t the best as people had claimed — perhaps we’d received a bad batch — the experience was worthwhile. 

The next farm we went to was The Log Farm, which was conveniently located in the city centre compared to all the other farms. I felt guilty for having almost overlooked this farm. At first, it looked rather unassuming online; I didn’t think there would be much to see or do. Their advertisement was modest, too. But, I’m very glad that we decided to spontaneously visit it, because it turned out to be the best farm ever. 

We really enjoyed the walk from the parking lot to the farm itself. We walked along a trail that took us through the woods, which felt like a hike in nature. I could see early on that my parents were enjoying the experience already. My mother, for an old lady, sure walked fast — as if excited to explore more.

I appreciated how low-key and humble the farm was. It was cozy, modest, well-loved and neat, and it didn’t boast. This farm was started by a family in the 1800’s; and until today, I could still feel the spirit of love, hard work, and dedication as I walked peacefully around the fields. A picturesque sight to behold, that’s for sure. 

If the apple-picking experience was a fail for Keaton, then this farm the next day far more than made up for it. Our little fellow was insanely smitten with his visit here. There were doll houses for kids, swings, a sandbox with an abundance of truck and car toys, tractor vehicles to ride, sensory tables, and many more! Keaton enjoyed it so much he would’ve stayed here all day if he could. 

There was also a tractor wagon ride, which he’d wildly sought for at the apple orchard. And here, he finally got it. It’s funny, though, because while he was so intent on riding the tractor wagon, as soon as he got on it, as with his experience at Saunders Farm, he became rather uncertain and shy. It took a few moments until he’d relax again. As for my parents, oh boy, did they ever smile and laugh! My mom made a new friend on the wagon ride: a beautiful baby girl, who kept smiling and waving back at her. The ride was lovely; we interacted quite a bit with other families. It felt communal. We all shared a sense of belonging. 

There were also many cute animals on the farm: chickens, cows, horses, goats, sheep, pigs, alpacas, you name it. The animals were beautiful and plump; they looked healthy and happy. Keaton asked to feed the goats. It was so adorable when he called out, “Sheeep! Heeere! Yum, yummm!” Of course there’s always that one sassy goat with attitude. The one in the photo is the one that grabbed the whole cone from Keaton’s hand. It was so funny.

We loved walking along scarecrow lane. Perhaps other visitors didn’t notice the hidden path, but we did; and because we were the only ones, it was ever so peaceful. We enjoyed looking for hidden scarecrows along the path. I could tell how much my parents enjoyed this farm and experience most of all. I hadn’t seen them smile and laugh, and let loose so much, in ages. 

My parents are very old now, and because of old age, health and anxiety issues, and, recently, COVID-19, they’ve naturally been homebound for many years. In fact, they haven’t experienced much of the fun side of life since immigrating to Canada in 1980. Now, it’s our turn to drive them around and show them the world and life, just as they’d shown us as children. That being said, we’ll definitely be back at this farm, as well as explore other farms, for pumpkin season and for the holiday Christmas markets. A different feeling and vibe, I can’t wait.

Home sweet home

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Dear Readers,

It’s been some time since I’ve popped in, but I have some lovely news to share: we bought a home and are expecting our second Mini Potato, who’s due this coming festive December.

Now that we’ve settled into our new home, life feels vastly different from what we’ve known beforehand. Sometimes, everything still feels surreal. It’s a big world of a difference transitioning from renting a high-rise apartment unit, to owning a house where we have our own entrance, appliances, and backyard. How freeing it is to not have to share laundry appliances or to tip-toe around others in shared entrances or elevators. I was wrought with anxiety at the height of the pandemic; the extra mental gymnastics involved when sharing common spaces with others was taxing. There was also very little privacy.

It feels ever so sweet to be in a home — our home. Yet I’ll always be grateful for having lived in a high rise apartment, especially as a family with a toddler. There were undoubtedly more challenges in daily life, but that’s why the experience was ever more rewarding: we’d experienced adversity and growth before tasting sweet victory. Not only has the experience brought us closer together as a family and strengthened us, but it has also taught Keaton to be appreciative of all the things he already did have: a roof, food, safety, a family, and all the basics of life that aren’t always granted.

Emotionally, I still miss our old apartment. I remember us settling there as a family over a year ago, when we just moved to Ottawa. It was quite heartwarming; after all, I was back in my hometown after years away, and I was reunited with my parents, whom I missed dearly and worried about immensely during the pandemic. I also recall being so excited to decorate our little space and make it homey and inviting. But the sweetest memory and journey of all, was witnessing Keaton’s growth and integration into his new city.

In over one year, he’s grown a whole lot — from babyhood to toddlerhood. I loved watching his bond with his Kong-Ma grow into unwavering love and friendship. Moreover, although all the park time for us parents was depressing — it was a pandemic and we didn’t have a car, so there wasn’t anywhere we could really go, except for the same old parks — I really appreciated watching our son’s growth there nevertheless, especially how he learned to relate to his immediate environment and social surroundings. For a little dude who’s never attended daycare or group settings, I’m very proud of him for his kindness and deep capacity for compassion.

I’m equally proud of my husband and I for overcoming numerous obstacles. From becoming first-time parents in the midst of a pandemic, to losing family members and lacking support, to facing financial struggles and the uncertainty of work, to living in a small apartment with no balcony or fresh air, to having no car for even the most practical of purposes, to dealing with months of constant dynamite construction right outside our window, to experiencing floods inside our bedroom, to having a high-energy toddler that never gave us a moment of respite, to handling inconsiderate folks on a daily basis. Every detail added up. The constant crippling stress and anxiety weighed heavily on our hearts and lives. Within me lived a constant turbulence of both rage and sadness. 

The process of searching for a home while my husband worked, of communicating with our mortgage lender and real estate agent, of preparing documents, of corresponding with our lawyer, and of making all financial decisions — while pregnant and with a toddler — was mentally and physically debilitating on top of everything. But we made it. We did our parts, held on to each other, trekked forward, and utilized any support we could get — I deeply appreciate my parents for all their help in take caring of our little one during challenging moments — and here we are, with a house of our own and even a car, too. 

Yet, I can’t say that I feel overwhelming joy and happiness being in our new home. It feels more like a deep relief, and more than anything, I feel immense gratitude mixed with a lot of sadness. I’m happy, yes, but now that we’ve made it, I feel rather exhausted — as if I can finally fall down on the floor and let myself slither into a deep sleep of a thousand years. As I look back, I can’t believe how we survived everything in the past few years, when it was much easier and more tempting to break. But human beings are resilient. We’re resilient. Even our son is resilient.

Having fun playing with his toys in his own room

Kids are adaptable and they’re able to appreciate the little things in life, whereas us adults are often stuck in our somersaulting patterns of thoughts that we create for ourselves. What I do see now, is how much happier Keaton is in his new home. There’s no baggage like the ones we adults carry. He has his own room, a backyard to play in — for me, it’s a dream come true, especially during summer days when I have no energy to take him to the park — and many rooms and nooks and crannies to explore. He’s even getting more exercise with all the stairs in the home. (I’m breaking my hip, on the other hand.)

It’s still always so sweet and comical to drive by our old apartment. Keaton would often say, “No dis! No dis!” Now that he has his own room and knows of a better life, he doesn’t want to return. I don’t blame him. I understand him completely. But I’d still tell him to say thank you and to wave bye bye as we’re passing; and he does just that, because he understands. My husband and I would often joke that our son has lived through all the craziness of life, whereas our daughter will be born into princesshood. We laugh about it, but for us, it’s important to instill character and integrity in our kids, and to teach them to appreciate all the little things.

I’m fond of our new and current home. It’s a perfect humble size for our little growing family. I love that now, Keaton has ample of space to run in and a backyard where he can play with his trucks and toys or simply watch birds and squirrels. I remember feeling emotional the first morning I sat outside with a coffee. Just birds chirping and a light breeze sweeping my cheeks. It was a stark contrast to our apartment days wrought with blasting and construction. This was freedom to me: peace and quiet. They were basic human needs and soul nourishing food that not everyone is privileged to have in this world. And I hold this knowledge closely to heart.

Now that we’re in our new home, I also feel the motivation to take better care of our space. I’ve been loving my plants; they add so much colour and life to our home. Perhaps it’s my OCD or my mama nesting urges, but I also feel deeply that cleaning and organizing our space frequently helps me de-stress and relax. Home is both a family space and a spiritual realm for me. I must take care of it, nourish it, and love it, just like I would my own.

2 and double the birthdays

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Keaton turned 2 recently! Though, I think he must think it’s his birthday every day, since for days past, we’ve been showering him with incessant birthday love — and happily so!

I’m so glad to say that after two years of pandemic stagnancy, we finally gathered with my brother and his family. Keaton has finally met his uncle, auntie, and two cousins. They, in turn, have finally been able to physically visit us and hug and hold our little man — all unmasked. I’ve been missing my brother and his family for so long, especially my nieces. It hurts to think that the last time the girls saw Keaton was the night that he’d arrived home from the hospital. Now, seeing how much they’ve grown makes me so proud of them. They’ve grown so beautifully, intelligently, and kindly.

When my parents (Kong-Ma) and Auntie Mel Mel, Keaton’s BFFs, arrived at our place, he was ecstatic. But when he saw my brother and his family, of course he cried. He didn’t know them. It was at once a funny, cute, and sad sight to see him crying when we all sang “Happy Birthday” to him. To him, there were strange faces cheering him on. We felt for him and all his fears and uncertainty. We felt for everyone at that moment, too. Two years is a lot of lost time. But it didn’t take long. Shortly after warming up, Keaton was already playing with his uncle on the floor with his gifted toolbox and trucks. He also developed a deep liking to his older cousin, who he proceeded to playing with all night.

Keaton loves trucks. He’s loved them his whole existence — he even knows the names of different types of vehicles and trucks — so for his second birthday, we decided on a truck/vehicle theme. My husband and I decorated the apartment with banners and balloons the night prior to the celebration, when Keaton was deep asleep. It brought back nostalgic memories of us decorating for his first birthday in our old apartment in Verdun, which I miss immensely. And now, our little dude’s already two.

I love the custom cake topper most of all. I had it customized and handmade by a talented Etsy seller, who breathes life and love into her creations. She brought my vision and all the details to life, and it turned out perfect. I’m so thankful for her effort and work. It’s become the centrepiece of Keaton’s birthday.

The cake was a lovely lemon raspberry flavour. It was light and fluffy, with a hint of citrus lemon and raspberry tartness that were beautifully enrobed with sweet buttercream. Heaven galore!

Keaton’s second cake, on his actual birthday. A fun funfetti vibe!

After we celebrated Keaton’s birthday with my family over the weekend — it was the ideal time for everyone to drive down, as the adults and kids were on break — of course we also celebrated his birthday on his actual birthday. This time, it was just our little family plus my parents, his Kong-Ma.

Keaton’s a lucky little guy. He got two birthday celebrations, two cakes, twice the gifts, and double the love and blessings! But it was just right and perfect. He’s so wonderful; he deserves all the love and more.

I’ve been anxious for a long time leading up to Keaton’s birthday. There had already been cancellations in the past due to the pandemic and restrictions, and each time, my heart broke. I crossed my fingers and toes that everything would be OK for our little guy’s birthday this time.

After two years, I’m so, so grateful that after all this time and uncertainty, it was a success story for everyone to finally meet. For my parents who are getting older by the day, I could understand and empathize with how joyous they must’ve felt to see all their kids and grandkids together, gathered under one roof for a full celebration of love. My family, my parents, my sister, my brother and his family — all of us together — I couldn’t ask for a more happy time in my life.

***

Happy Birthday to my sweet baby boy, who’s a source of happiness and refuge for so many of us. I love your sensitivity and compassion; I love that you’re a resilient problem-solver; I love that you possess a moral and ethical compass, and that you do right by others; and I love that now, we can reason and communicate with you. Your love for trucks and “meh meh” is the cutest thing of all. We’ll try to keep your long curly hair strand for as long as possible, OK? Don’t let daddy convince you otherwise. – Mommy

Blogmas: Mwuah, Rudolpho

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Here’s our Christmas tree! It will be our first Christmas here at the apartment, and adding a festive tree adorned with sentimental ornaments and lights really makes our abode cozy and warm. We did resort to moving all the candy canes to the upper half of the tree, though, because Keaton will grab them and run off into the sunset otherwise! If not by reaching up for them himself, then with the swift movement of his sassy broom.

This year will be extra fun because Keaton is now a bit older, so he’ll be able to enjoy Christmas and have a better understanding of the festivity. When we put up the tree, he even helped us put up the ornaments. But he didn’t want to do it himself. He just wanted to hand the ornaments to us, and demand where they go with unswerving knowing and conviction. I have a feeling that by the time Christmas rolls around, the tree will either be naked and the ornaments missing, or it will have gone through many identity crises thanks to Keaton.

This doggie or “meh meh” ornament is special — it makes me smile so much — because it’s Keaton’s first ornament, which he chose himself. When his daddy showed him the display of ornaments at the Nutcracker store and pointed to them one by one, he made a sound to gesture that this was the one he wanted.

The doggie is a West Highland Terrier. When I look at it, it looks just right — as if it really is Keaton’s doggie and buddy. It looks and feels like his personality, and he knows it.

My husband, Bruno, and I also have our annual special ornament for Christmas, and this year we chose this Jack Skellington and Sally ornament, which symbolizes the early days of our dates — the sweet cusp between Halloween and Christmas — and the fruits of our relationship.

My husband and I are renowned elves. It seems that every year we spread the Christmas cheer by putting up a tree in someone’s house, who otherwise wouldn’t have bothered. This time, we chalked up my parents’ holiday spirit and brought this tree — once in my work office — over to their home.

When we began setting up the tree and decorations, my parents’ faces lit up with joy. Mom even went to the basement to take out my childhood ornaments and other decor. Dad himself helped put up the ornaments — I could see that he was at peace. They really enjoyed this moment of shared family tradition — this time with their grandson. It had also been a long time since they put up a tree, probably since their children were living with them.

We also gifted them this special mouse ornament because it symbolizes Keaton, their grandson.

Besides putting up Christmas trees and decorations, another fun part about the holiday season is taking out Christmas mugs. These are two new ones that we recently added to our collection. With their Christmas-y nature, they make coffee ever more tasty and soul-satisfying! (Or bitter, if you’re a morning coffee Grinch.)

A cute-as-a-button gingerbread cookie from the Christmas Market! I told my husband that my ultimate goal this year is to find and eat a classic gingerbreadman cookie that’s been decorated, and here it is! Keaton also had his own cookie that day at the market. It was so heartwarming that he ate his gingerbread cookie as he was holding my hand and walking around.

The next evening, my husband and I returned to the Christmas Market. While the day before we’d done a family trip there with our son, we also wanted to have our own date night there, especially after dark when the fairy lights begin romancing our souls. It was a cold night, but oh so beautiful. The music, the smiles, and the celebration — I felt happy. For the first time in a long time since Keaton’s birth, my Love and I had a date (thank you to Kong-Ma), and I felt like myself again. I also couldn’t help but start dancing to the music, too.

Today, we also adopted Rudolpho, our new reindeer friend, from our local Christmas Farmer’s Market. Keaton loves him with such sweet gentleness. When he arrives home, he’d greet his new buddy with a hug and a kiss. It warms my heart to no end!

Turquoise summer

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my sweet keurig

It feels like it’s going to be a turquoise summer. It’s a warm and sunny afternoon, and here I am, sitting on the balcony with my delicious iced coffee and my laptop and headphones — basking away in my sweet and much-needed bubble.

There are certain burning moments in life when you appreciate the small details with every atom of your being, as if they’re the catalysts that fuel the deep inhalations that you require but can no longer humanly muster. This is true for me presently, especially now that we’re in a quarantine and the world around me feels strangely deserted and lifeless, and now that I’ve become a first-time mother which itself produces a set of challenges.

“Remember when you used to enjoy quiet mornings and staring out the window while contemplating life, with a cup of coffee for sweet company?” My mom would comment and laugh, with both a comical reality check and empathy, as she watches me scurry around with my shaggy lioness hair that hasn’t been brushed in weeks. It’s true, life was no longer about me and my whimsical longings for silence, solitude, and reflection. Coffee mornings were no longer existent, and if they were, they were inundated with anxiety-filled thoughts that the Little Lord would wake up and feed at any moment. (If I can’t poop in peace, forget drinking coffee in peace.)

I bow down to my mother’s feet with gratitude. I’m forever thankful to this beautiful woman, mother, wife, and soul who’s been pregnant with five children, and who’s mothered us with dignity, strength, and uttermost compassion and kindness. 

Motherhood is currently, and always will be, my dearest life journey. Yet it can be clumsy and challenging at times, especially when it’s your first experience. And when you give of yourself fully and relentlessly and finally receive something in return — a little something that’s enough to re-ignite your soul — it almost feels as if you’ve been gifted the sky and the mountains. It feels that good to me — and increasingly so — now that something as simple as going out for a serene walk has become an abnormal occurrence in our everyday lives during this quarantine and for the most part we find ourselves cocooned inside our small apartment, and now that I’m a new mother that rarely has time to herself.

Then came this Keurig machine by mail this morning. The excitement and anticipation grew as I watched Bruno carry in the box from the stairs, and I felt like a little kid who was just given an ice cream cone. It gave me a reason to be giddy and cheerful. A different reason. One that wasn’t about the world out there in its state of chaos and neuroticism, that wasn’t about my family and dear son, and that wasn’t about the pile of laundry that needed to be folded. It was about me, if only for a brief and candied moment. This coffee machine would become a place of solace.

This summer will be short and arduous if the coronavirus lockdown persists, but knowing that I’m fully equipped with my sweet love and son, and knowing that there’s a world in which I can always slip into the kitchen to make myself a cuppa coffee during my little one’s late morning naps — and knowing that there’s life and beauty in that fleeting moment of great escape — makes it all the better and the more bearable. It’s enough to cheer me up and grow fluttering butterflies of joy inside my belly.

My vintage vanity is another turquoise piece that’s my happy place. (I do have a fiery and passionate love affair with turquoise.) I fondly remember sitting there last summer — I was in the early days of my pregnancy — and putting on my makeup and getting ready to go hand-in-hand with my love to the market or to a vintage bazaar. It was my very own personal space and soulful corner of the home where I could bask in my femininity — and that felt refreshing. Even if I won’t be dressing up to go anywhere anytime soon, and life may feel like a surreal dream, it will still be my happy place alongside my coffee machine. A turquoise summer is most definitely in order.

***

I showed a photo of this turquoise Keurig to my sister in passing, and as usual, she made it a dream come true with my parents’ tribute and support. She scoured the market to order it for me. I’m head-over-heels crazy about it! It’s as cute as a button. Thank you, Mel, and mom and dad for this thoughtful Mother’s Day and birthday gift. 

Thank you to my big sister who’s always been there for me since I was a shrivelled little prune, and who knows my heart well. And thank you to my parents who’ve been deeply loving and supportive, even from afar, and whose familiar faces through a video call never ceases to warm my soul. 

To Bruno, my sweet love, cheers to many romantic coffee mornings on the balcony this summer. Cheers to coffee made for you with love and joy by your Tiffipoo, with her dainty coffee machine that’s enough to make her glow. 

To Keaton, my sweetest gift of life, as you grow older, just as mommy learns the map of your soul, you’ll in turn learn mommy’s idiosyncrasies and little moments of joy. 

To Keaton ♥️

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I’m officially a mommy, and my heart is elated. Baby Keaton was born in early March, and he is, and always will be, our greatest joy, accomplishment, and adventure. We’re deeply and wholly in love with our sweet baby boy — a sacrificial and wholesome love we never knew before.

He’s grown much since his birth, and it’s heartwarming to learn the maps of his heart, mind, and soul on a daily basis. I have mommy guilts already — I’m learning to be more compassionate with myself as a new mother — but something I’ll never regret, is not having been present enough with him. I can say that so far, I’m proud of myself for being relentlessly present with him with each passing breath he takes.

I love him so dearly, so tenderly, so compassionately that my heart could explode. I love that his personality is shining through evermore each day; I love the way his toe beans curl around my finger; I love the way he throws his arms up with glee as we change his diaper; I love that his hair’s growing fuller and into a light ash brown shade, that I myself have always dreamt of; I love pondering if he looks more like me or his daddy; I love the sense of safety and exuberant joy he feels when we place him between us in bed and attack him with kisses.

I love him to the moon and back, and beyond. 

2020 has been bittersweet. The arrival of our son was the climatic point in our lives, both individually and as a cohesive unit. Yet what was intended to be a celebratory time, became a trying moment. Therein lived an inescapable lesson in life: there was no light without dark, and no dark without light. Both were inextricably linked — the yin and yang of the cosmic law, and the Romeo and Juliet of our human existence. This was the dance where tragedy and romance fell in love and became forever intwined.

Shortly after the birth of our boy — the happiest time of our lives — the coronavirus pandemic began, my grandmother passed away, and we cancelled our wedding. It felt as though the universe was mocking us, and laughing at the naiveté of our all-encompassing joy. An all-time high was followed by an all-time low. Life was no longer the same, and sometimes I found myself shaking my head as if to try to wake myself up from a dream.

Hopes to take our newborn to a farmer’s market on a warm spring day to pick up fresh flowers to adorn our home, felt light years away. Instead, we were now watching the trees and birds and bees from the confines of our windows. Grieving my grandmother’s passing also became an individual experience within the confines of our walls, when what we needed was to be with family, and to hold and be held. Everything felt impossibly surreal. Possibilities felt so close yet painstakingly far — a dream within a dream.

Yesterday was our scheduled wedding day. Reminiscent, I looked at our wedding decorations and fairy lights, and there they were, nestled in the closet — coated with memories of the past. Soon after, it was 4 PM and I turned to Bruno and said, “It would’ve been the time of our ceremony, when we got married.” He began tearing up and I felt my heart twist and churn. Yet we knew that the only sane thing to do during an insane crossroads of our lives, was to simply be. To simply be present with each other — with what still is. We had our love and our strength to celebrate, and best of all, Keaton.

All was as it should be. Timing was always right in the grand scheme of life. Baby Keaton was proof — a small and cute one at that — of the synchronicity of events. He arrived at an uncertain moment in all our lives, and for good reason: he was needed. He was the uplifting joy to his grandparents’ day, and the smile that made life a little more bearable in the midst of unpredictability and darkness. He was the bearer of love and light, of strength and courage, of will and resilience.

In the end, we had our son. He was the emblem that married us, that tied us together evermore intimately and sweetly. No, life is never as it should be. We never had the chance to introduce my grandmother to her great-grandchild for the first and last time, nor have we had the chance to show him the world, nor did we ever get to walk down the aisle together hand-in-hand. But then again, yes, life is always as it should be. And every day, I thank the moon and the stars for our son, for he’s the greatest blessing in our lives.