Over half the year has passed and it has been quite interesting to say the least. Despite my city finally entering Phase 3, Covid-19 still has a grip on most of my life and much of the world. Lockdown life began for me over 4 months ago and for the most part, I’m used to it now. I live in a home with 4 generations so I never lack company.
Looking back, I wonder if my impending sense of doom that NYE night was foreshadowing for the months to come. A warning that single motherhood was in my future. A warning that life as I know it was going to change forever. A warning that change is the only thing I can rely on, and that it is up to me to reflect and pay attention to the changes that occur in and around my life. How do they make me feel? How do they make me want to feel?
At times, it feels like the the only constant for me is my mother’s love as well as the love I now have for my little guy. A mother’s love.
"we were asked to create a piece of poetry using the final chapters of our readings. Essentially, summarize decolonization...here’s mine."
As a child my family and I spent a lot of time there. Every Saturday we found ourselves at the Cedarbrae Public Library, partaking in the free programming they offered. For us, the library was an inexpensive place for families to read, learn, and have fun. I got to borrow and read a lot of books, watch puppet shows and, listen to storytellers with my mom and siblings. We didn’t have much, but we had the library, which was a whole lot.
I’ve never been much of a coffee drinker. Actually, I’ve never been a coffee drinker at all. I never felt I needed it, nor did I like it very much. But during that week of early commutes downtown, after sleepless nights with a baby...I was excited to get my daily mocha. I felt like I’d joined some exclusive crew, that I’d never been apart of.
No matter how hard we think about it, we can’t figure out how we could have possibly entered a whole other country without knowing it. What about border control? Immigration officers? Passport stamps? We had seen nothing to tell us we’d entered Peru. We hadn't heard anything either. No, “Passengers, we’ve arrived at our destination.”... Continue Reading →
I felt as though I was in a rut. I felt quite unmotivated and couldn’t muster the energy to write, anything. I felt like I wasn’t accomplishing what I’d set out to achieve in terms of my writing goals. This feeling has passed however, and six months into 2018, I look back and realize that I’ve written about 12 blogs so far. How can I feel down about that? At this halfway mark, in 2018, with only 12 more months to go of maternity leave, it’s important that I reevaluate my writing goals. I need to use my time effectively. I’m writing, great. But, what am I writing? What do I want to write? I already know the answer to that question. I want to write children’s stories...picture books...children’s literature.