She has had her perfect little baby finger wrapped around my heart from the moment her mama told me she was on the way, back in June of last year.
We have been patiently awaiting her arrival and my heart is full to bursting over the fact that this beautiful, incredible baby girl is now part of our family.
Welcome to the world, my sweet niece; I want only to be an Aunty you feel that you can come to for any reason, no matter how far apart the miles might take us. I will be your champion for so long as I shall live.
I love you baby girl, and I'm so glad you have blessed our family.
Clara; born 13th February 2010
I'm not being biased when I say that she really is perfect.
Lately, when we have been letting Molly out in the back garden she takes the opportunity to drag her body across the wet, often mucky grass. She doesn't walk, she doesn't roll, she gets down on her side and pushes herself along - don't ask me why; maybe she's hot and the grass is cold. Obviously today she decided to push her face along at the same time.
This was the result after not even five minutes outside:
We can be thankful at leasts that its just mud and not fox shit.
I will go home today after work and I know Alex won't forget to remind me what day it is. I always make him pancakes on this day, but today I won't be partaking in the event because I like mine with Canadian Maple Syrup (ironically the only kind you can easily get here, as golden syrup isn't the same) but at £4.49 (almost $10) I don't have any in my cupboard.
Unless I change my mind on the way home and stop at the shop. I can always use what's left to make home-made baked beans which I've been meaning to do anyway.
Today, my father-in-law Dave turns 69. I wish him the very best on his birthday. Its also Mom2's birthday, but you never say a lady's age - so Happy Birthday Sheila ;) But today isn't going to be just thier day any longer; my sister has been in labour for quite awhile now and I'm certain today is the day she and Taylor will hold their baby girl in their arms. Thus making it not only Dave's and Sheila's birthday, but baby Clara's as well.
(Funnily enough Wendy, my mom-in-law shares a birthday with my younger brother John)
The other evening, when we knew that Tawny was going to be giving birth shortly (although its taken much longer than any of us had hoped), Mom started recording how much everyone thought the baby was going to weigh in at. Tawny would have screamed if she'd heard Alex say a whopping 11 lbs before he saw the look on my face and amended it to '9lbs'. So far he is guessing the heaviest weight. Most of us are giving a reasonable 7.10 (me) or 8.2 (mom). As they were walking out the door I heard Alex ask his dad what he would get if he won the bet. Andy's reply: 'A cousin, now get in the car'. (I'm still grinning.)
When Connor found out Tawny was due to have the baby at any time he immediately asked if she was going to refer to him as her cousin. I answered in the affirmative, because the baby will be a lovely little cousin for the boys. Connor expressed his pleasure at having a girl cousin and then commented 'even if I have to wait two years to meet her. It will only be two years right?'
Even if I don't have a child of my very own, I'm so proud that we can give the baby two big cousins who will love and look out for her.
Andy asked me a question the other night in relation to some paper work he needs to fill in. The question was in regard to where my mother was born and was an easy one to answer: Burin, NF. He then emailed me yesterday to ask me what town my dad was born in. The best I could come up with was his house, somewhere in Alberta. Why this information is missing from memory is bugging me. Did I ever even know? Please tell me I’ve just forgotten. It’s not that big of deal but it has me wondering, do most of you know the exact place where you parents were born? Both parents and not counting if they were both born and raised in the same town as you – that’s too easy.
I can tell you how many brothers and sisters each of my parents have, their names, and the names of any children they have, and trust me, between them both, that’s a lot of extended family to remember. Of course I have to stop and really think about it on my dad’s side because I've never met most of them. When it comes to mom’s side of the family, I can even name the great-grandchildren of my Nanny, Clara because we all stay in touch and see each other pretty regularly (or at least when I get back to Nova Scotia).
Which now brings me to this: It had been about five years since the last of Nan’s great-grandchildren were born; the last being our little cousin Carter, who sadly died the same year he was born (yet we know he’s safe in Nan’s loving care); and the wickedly wonderful twosome better known as Brendan and Lucas – cousin Wayne’s twin hurricanes. The twins have just turned six years old:
Lucas & Brendan
(I can't get enough of these two when I go home)
Five years later, (in July of 2009), our beautiful cousin Tracy gave birth to a lovely little boy she called Nolan, who I had the pleasure of briefly meeting on a visit home when he was only a few weeks old. I only wish I'd gotten to seem him more:
Nolan at approximately 1 month old
As many of you are aware, Sunday is the due date for my sister’s baby. The first grandchild for my mom and dad (of course they look at Alex and Connor as their grand-sons, however this is the first grand-baby for them). And what makes it even more special is that Tawny and Taylor are having a girl. A girl whom they will name after the matriarch of our family, our Nanny, Clara. Although Nanny had loads of grand-daughters, it’s been quite awhile since a little girl was born into our family (Nanny only has two other great-granddaughters) and everyone is looking forward to meeting her. I know I sure am and I can’t help but wonder if by this time next week she will have made her appearance.
Yesterday, on the way home from work I decided to nip into the grocery store to pick up a few items as tonight I want to make beef stifado, a yummy delicious greek stew made with garlic, shallots and cinnamon.
The shop was just beginning to get a little crazy as it was after four on a Friday. I tried not to rush through, as I wanted to make sure I was collecting everything on my list. The isle containing cheese and dairy was ridiculously crowded with people queing to push their carts through and I was breathing a sigh of relief that I only had a basket, even though people kept banging into it.
Once I hit the wine aisle I took a few deep breaths as I selected a pinoit grigio (amazingly this isle had hardly anyone in it - strange for a Friday, but apparently people were more interested in food than booze). It took all the will-power I could muster not to twist open the top of a bottle and take a swig before facing the produce section, which was also jam packed. Once my basket was finally complete, I headed toward the checkout only to breath a sigh of relief at my good timing: the cash right in front of me had only one person being checked through, without much on the belt; this was lucky because every other check out was crazy busy.
As I was nearly there I saw someone rushing for this checkout out of my peripheral vision and hastly speeded up only to get my basket on the belt first. As I unloaded my stuff I couldn't bring myself to look at the person behind me, but noticed that they only had three items to unload. Three. Whilst I had about 15 (mind this was a regular check-out, not one of those with a 10 items or less restriction). Then I glanced up and realized it was an older man. One who was smiling at the family behind him and I wanted to crawl under the counter in shame. Would it really have been so bad to let him in front of me? But by the time I had noticed all this, my stuff had all been unloaded; I just chose to wait to be checked through and was not my usual chatty self with the cashier as I was feeling guilty for racing to a checkout to beat an older man. I just wanted out of there.
Some of you may not find this such a big deal, but I honestly hate the push and shove society we live in and abhor the thought that I am among those ranks.
Last Friday I woke up and breathed a sigh of relief that I had the whole day off - a whole day to enjoy most of the things I did when I had Fridays off prior to full-time; so before getting ready to hit the road with Andy to where ever it was we were going for my surprise birthday present I did the following: Enjoyed a coffee whilst watching one hour of tv before I did a little housework and then headed to the gym, where I met Beryl first for a coffee, then worked out while she was having a few treatments at the salon. We both felt so good after that we had a healthy lunch together before I went home to have a bath and get ready for my evening out.
It didn't take me long to realize we were heading toward Sheffield. I really had no idea what the night ahead held for me, but I had been thinking along the lines of either a show, such as Dirty Dancing, or a concert; With it being Sheffield I was leaning toward the concert.
Andy and I got checked into our hotel, changed and headed out; Walking toward the tram stop I asked if he would now tell me what the score was so I could start to get a little more excited. He made the silly mistake of telling me we were going to see Paulo Nutini, because I was filled with glee at that thought, however he quickly realized his mistake and clammed up. As we waited for the tram he passed me the tickets. I looked at them and couldn't quite process what they were: it looked like tickets to Strictly Come Dancing, The Live Show (this is the original and British TV program that Dancing with the Stars was copied from). I didn't know what to think at first, because I still had Paulo on my mind, but as we chatted about who was going to dance etc, my excitement started to build. Although I do enjoy watching the program, it means a little bit more when I see the actual professional dancers, as I have been fortunate enough to see quite a few dance live before at the Wintergardens here in town (before they pulled it down).
I was curious to see how they were going to set things up in an Arena, and was pleasantly surprised at the whole set - it was almost identical to that of the show despite not being in a ballroom.
The whole show was amazing. Of course my favourite dances were the Latin and Charlston. I cannot tell you how I would love to learn the Charleston and wear the fab dresses worn in that era.
After the show Andy and I went for Mexican food and didn't waste any time feasting on nachos, fajitas and burritos with a lot of quacamole and re-fried beans on the side. After a few Corona's and Margherita's I was ready to bust, so much so that I didn't eat anything the next morning while we were out spending my birthday dosh.
It was a great evening out, something different and new and I love my husband for taking the time to treat me to a night out at an event a lot of men wouldn't be dragged to; But then again my guy isn't most men and besides, he wasn't complaining since most of the women were wearing next to nothing.