Baby

Walking in the Legacy Left Behind

I want to walk in her shoes. I want to follow in her legacy.

Rooting around in the bottom of my closet, I dug out a pair of black boots. I don’t know if I ever saw her wear them, but they were hers. They’re not a pair of shoes that I would have purchased for myself, but when she passed, I took them home.

Today, as the wind blew and the fall leaves rustled, I threw on a thick pair of socks and slid the boots onto my feet. With feet planted in my mother’s shoes, I remembered the path she’d walked. I remembered the woman these shoes had once held.

As a child, she helped point our feet in the right direction. Walking in the footsteps of Christ, she held our hand as we toddled along — until the day came when we learned to walk on our own.

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Caribou & Sage Clothing Review

When my first shipment of Caribou & Sage items arrived, I couldn’t get over how thick and luxurious the fabric felt. Soft and stretchy and so well made, it was nothing like the cheap t-shirts and flimsy fabrics I find at the store. This was my first foray into the world of handmade clothes and Caribou & Sage does it just so well. **

Caribou & Sage is a Canadian company based out of Alberta, Canada and run by my friend, Jesslyn. Not only does she create kids clothes, she’s also a mom to a busy two-year-old and pilot for a charter company!

Since she uses gorgeous fabrics from small Canadian retailers, you know that you’re truly supporting local Canadian business with these pieces. In addition to her regular offerings, she also creates a wide variety of custom options, resulting in beautifully made, one of a kind items. You won’t see other kids running around the playground in these!

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I’m Not The Mom Who Loves To Play, And That’s Okay

I’m not the mom who loves to play.

I’m not the one who enjoys scuttling around on my hands and knees, driving cars around an invisible track or fighting off pretend pirates.

Imaginary play is NOT my strength.

And sometimes, I feel guilty about that.

I want to be the mom crawling around the park, pretending to be a crime-fighting dinosaur named Nora. The mom who spends hours acting out intricate storylines about robots and aliens, running around the house in costumes as we dodge lava pits and trolls. The mom who doesn’t get bored after a couple minutes of playing with Lego people.

I want to be that “uber fun mom” with endless energy and creative passion for free play. I want to give my kids that experience.

But that’s not me.

And that’s okay too.

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To The Mama Wearied And Worn, Come

Church life with a baby is hard. I forgot how hard.

I haven’t heard a full sermon in over half a year now. The messages are fragmented: bits here and there, snatches of verses and sentences caught and quickly forgotten as I scurry out to quiet a hungry babe. I sit in the nursery, rocking and burping. Sometimes the sermon plays through the speaker, sometimes it doesn’t. Most often us moms are all too distracted by feeds and naps and foul-smelling diapers to hear the words anyway.

Come to me all who labour and are heavy laden.

The invitation presses against my soul. To come and lay down my aches and my insecurities, my doubts and my fears, and to simply sit in His presence. To stop striving and simply worship.

This is a season too.

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