This is a post I have tried to write when I was on my own with the kids. I had reached such a level of exhaustion that threading words together wasn't as easy. It was a challenge to make time for myself. It still is. But how I miss it. I miss this world made of words sent out to the unknown. 
Resilience. When I looked up this somewhat unfamiliar word it said : the capacity to recover quickly from difficulties. An ability to adjust easily to misfortune or change. Toughness. 
I've often heard people talk about children being resilient. From my personal childhood experiences, this seems very true to me. Children seem to hold an incredible capacity to adapt situations. The opposite would be hard to handle since as kids, we ar not often given choices. Whether our family moves to a new city and we have to follow and learn to make new friends, whether our parents get divorced and we have to accept the new dynamic it involves, whether we lose a parent or a sibling at a young age and we have to carry on through life, children often have the capacity to move on. It doesn't mean wounds are healed and no trauma will challenge them later in life but in the moment, they have the capacity to keep going. 
I never really thought about it but twenty years into my mother's death and I can get the feel of how resilient I was as a young teenager. Surrendering myself to life and its teachings. Covering my skin and heart with a coat of toughness so I could laugh again.

I don't know if I was born to be tough because I had chosen a path this life that would bring challenges. I don't know if I became tough. I even didn't really know myself that I was being tough. But life keeps on teaching great lessons and when I think about it, I realize that all Women hold an amazing amount of resilience within themselves. I am so deeply humbled by women's strength despite the obsolete ideas our society sometimes try to instill. How resilient is a Woman who gave birth to her child. How resilient is a Woman who smiles and cries as she holds her baby and forget in the instant all about the hours of painful laboring and pushing. How resilient is a Woman who had to have her belly open in order to let her baby into this life and yet cries tears of pure joy as she hold this precious life she's created. How resilient is a woman facing miscarriages, trying again. How tough are we.  

When I waved my man good-bye last fall at the airport, holding our boy in tears while his baby sister was napping in the stroller not knowing her papa was leaving for at least four month, I wasn't sure how I was going to make it. I wasn't sure I would have the strength it required to care for our babies on my own. I realized I had told him that I would survive but all in a sudden I was doubting myself. Our families live on the other side of the planet. I really was on my own. When he went through the gate and we had to stop waving at him, it was dark outside. I had to get ourselves into the car and drive away holding my own tears back. I wasn't aware of what would happen then. Resilience. It kicked right in. Like a best friend knocking on the door, unexpected. We had made a conscious choice. Life had given us an opportunity to grow and move forward. Everything felt right. We were where we were supposed to be and life had already taught me that through the biggest challenges, we could grow tremendously. From this day on, I did not think about how long it was going to be, such thoughts would have been the doorway to being miserable for months. I lived one day at a time, one week at a time. It was hard. Exhaustion truly was a bitch that took me down a few times, wondering how I would make it through the day. Resilience had my back. I shed tears more than once. I tried to reach out to friends which was something new for me but I realized that people had no idea what I was going through. We all get busy. This itself was a great life lesson. I had no other choice than being tough. With everyday that went by I felt more empowered than the day before. I allowed myself to feel proud. I allowed myself to stand up for me and my kids. I allowed myself to cry. I allowed myself to embrace my imperfections. I allowed myself to be unapologetic for being who I am because I knew I was where I was supposed to be, being a Mother and being the best I could be at it. Being spontaneously so resilient helped me navigate one of the loneliest time in my life. The Holiday season wasn't easy to navigate on my own. Waking up on Christmas day was tough. But again, day after day I was able to see the beauty in all of it. Day after day my faith kept growing. And while some may hear this as some kind of hippie-woo-hoo talk, our angels have given me the extra strength I needed, every time I needed it. 
It was a profound experience. One I was meant to live to realize how strong of a woman I am. We make choices in our life everyday. We have the power to shape our reality through our decisions and through our thoughts. Cultivate negativity and you will have to carry heavy weights on your shoulders on top of everything else. Cultivate positive energies and life will keep on amazing you everyday. I allow myself to feel weak some days. I allow myself to be withdrawn from social circles sometimes so I can funnel my energy where I need it most. I allow myself to have one on one time with my own thoughts to  keep track of what's happening up there. I have learnt to acknowledge resilience as a friend so I can make space for it in my life when I need it. 

Our man is home as I am writing. I am slowly gaining some weight again. I get to take shower for more than 2 minutes at a time. I get to sit and eat diner. I even got to go windsurfing on my own yesterday. I have learnt to be grateful everyday for the littlest details that make life so yummy. 
He will go away again, sooner than I'd like but this is our reality right now. The one we chose. I am a Mother. He is a hard working Father. We are going to laugh and cry and laugh and cry. But every time our children burst into laughter, I know we must be doing some things right. 
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I am breathing again, slowly realizing that I am not on my own anymore. Not that I stopped breathing, ever. But it does feel like when Gurvan left, back in October, I took a deep deep breath and immersed myself in my solo-mama role. So much that all my energy merged towards my babies needs and well-being. While I managed to post photos here and there on Instagram, I failed at keeping up with this little blog of mine. I tried. I sat down a few times when both sweethearts were sleeping, I wrote a few posts, sharing about my emotions but nothing sounded good enough to me. I was so deeply exhausted that my brain couldn't word my feelings properly. I feel guilty for not fighting enough. Though I am emerging from a long fight against the deepest exhaustion of all. The internet is a tricky world, one that may empower us, one that may reveal our weaknesses. This corner I created is important to me. My Ego truly doesn't care who will read this but my Soul needs to do her talking through writing. It is who I am. I have dearly missed threading words together. I did a lot of talking with myself, by myself, all those long long days when I didn't get to talk to an adult for longer than I ever thought would be possible. 
So while I did share photos on my Instagram account (and that's really all the online socializing I have done), I haven't made time to post the last few photos of my 52 project in 2016 here. It is so easy to let weeks after weeks go by. It was the purpose of the project when I started it two years ago : a creative  d i s c i p l i n e. I have come to realize that I need this discipline, it has helped tremendously with my non-practical-self. I didn't know I needed that discipline so badly until I let go of it a few month ago. Things happen in life, we can't control it all and sometimes we just have to go with the flow and sleep when we need to but the best part about life is that it is all up to us to get back on track. 
So here are a few of the portraits taken in late 2016. 
I can not wait to sit here again and share all that I have been meaning to share. Feelings mostly. Life lessons. Photography. I can't tell you to tune in every Monday morning (or Friday night for that matter) for a blog update but I can tell you that I am not letting go of this space. 

I dreaded Christmas as much I as anticipated it for it was a milestone getting us closer to being a family of four again. Fourteen weeks total without seeing our main man since the beginning of September. Fourteen weeks. Doesn't sound all that much when I write it down. What am I complaining about. Am I complaining? In fact I am not. We are where we are supposed to be, in this moment of our lives merged together.

With the end of the year comes time for a little reflection. With this reflection comes gratitude pouring out of my heart. Amazement too. Strangely fear is not in the picture. So not in the picture. 

2016 will be the year Marlowe came into our lives. Marlowe, my Spiritual child. My girl who came to me before I even knew I could be pregnant. My baby who opened my eyes and my life to a whole new concept of Spirituality. My girl sleeping against my breast and loudly breathing through her nose as her mouth is busy sucking up milk in her sleep as I am writing. 

2016 is the year Gurvan manifested his desire to get back on a boat to make sure regrets wouldn't come knocking on our door in a few years from now. 
It's the year we both openly started talking about our angels and the energies out there, the ones listening to our hearts, our thoughts and our burning desires. 

2016 is the year we bought our very first piece of beautiful land when we least expected it. My intuition had me make this crazy move when he was away. I thought for a second that I had gone mad when really I was just listening to the whisper of the Universe handing this treasure to us. 

2016 is the year Manech became a loving and caring big brother. Also the year he found freedom on his big boy pedal bike (hey that's a milestone for a little boy!).

2016 is the year Gurvan took off on a plane without us for the very firt time. My heart aches. Manech's heart aches. I know our girl is missing her papa deep down in her heart as well. But we both know it is all meant to be. It is so hard but it feels right. We know now that things, anything, whatever we put our thoughts into can happen in what feels like a wink. Days, months, sometimes minutes...we try our best to embrace what is being sent our way. Distance is hard. Our strength is being challenged every day. For him being away from his babies for so long is the hardest thing he's probably ever done. For me having to face every single day on my own. No family around to take over for an hour or cook diner for the night. I didn't know all the strength it would take, and all the strength I actually had.

2016 has seen terrible things happen in the world. More wars. More sadness. More chaos. Lots of great Artists, Musicians took off. We have all cried, we have all been terrified, we have all felt terribly helpless. 
But as I am writing this I can't help but feel thankful for the life we are living. I believe prayers can be answered. I believe zillions of beautiful souls inhabit this beautiful planet. I believe Love is the answer to fears. I look back and love is what I want to remember. I look forward and love is what I see. In all its shapes.  

Happy 2017 you all. 

-love-

A portrait of my children, once a week, every week, in 2016

Manech and Marlowe : I never knew how powerful I was until you showed me. 

A portrait of my children, once a week, every week, in 2016

Manech : November 8th 2016. As I shot this little portrait of you, I thought we would have the first woman president by dawn. I could not have been more wrong. We were right outside of the polling place. While I voted, Marlowe was resting against my chest and you were holding on to my leg, intimidated by all the people standing in line. 

Marlowe : As I quickly edited this little photo of you, looking all grown up, I realized that we have spent every single night sleeping together since you were born. I remembered the first days, when you were so tiny that you entire body seemed to fit in the palm of my hands. I would sleep half laid-down, half-seated with you all against my chest, I knew these were moments I had to take and cherish while they lasted. You don't fit in the palm of my hands anymore but you still sleep by my side, every single night. I know it won't last for ever but for now, I am immensely grateful for each and every night you let me share my bed with you. 

A portrait of my children, once a week, every week, in 2016

Manech : you asked me why the trees were so high. I told you that they probably wanted to say hello to the sun. You looked at me and with some magical spark in your eyes, your genuine-self said : "no no, I think they want to tickle the clouds"
How amazing would the world be if we could all keep our softest sweetest innocence, for ever. 

Marlowe : This is routine for you. Your brother just can't keep his hands off of you. You sometimes request your space but as soon as he leaves you, you look for him. You laugh when he laughs, you cry when he cries. I am your mama witnessing your sibling love growing a little stronger everyday, trying to keep my sanity when both of you are screaming bloody murder, sometimes failing [at keeping my sanity] but then I sit down and start editing photos [of you, obviously - because you two truly are my life right now] and it feels like someone is pouring love all over me. Intense days. 

A portrait of my children, once a week, every week, in 2016

Manech : a muffin did not fool you. You saw your papa pack his luggage. You know the airport now. And you knew we were about to say good-bye to your favorite man in this world. 

Marlowe : you were your happy-mellow-self. Miss cool. I can only imagine how hard it was for your papa to let go of you.

Note to myself : this was taken on October 19th. I have officially fallen way behind on this little portraiture project. The photos are taken (high five-me). The computer is full. My days are fuller. But I still have a few weeks to catch up before the end of this intense year. 

Manech, I want to remember your voice. This gentle sound that comes out of your mouth first thing in the morning "maman, maman", softly taking me away from my dreams and into our reality. You are changing so fast, growing too fast and the other day I realized that one day your voice won't sound the same. It will be beautiful. But it still feels quite unreal to think of you sounding like a man. Your sweet, sometimes slightly high pitch voice when the excitement kicks in, is by far my favorite sound in the world right now.
You started singing on your own. A couple days ago I took you to the park. You were swinging on your swing, I was swinging on my swing with Marlowe who absolutely adores you. And you started singing. You started singing Marlowe's song, the one I have been singing to her since she was born. You were swinging and you were singing.

"You are my sunshine, my only sunshine
  You make me happy, when skies are great (yes great, not grey)
  You'll never know, deaaaar
  How much I looove you
  Please don't take , 
  my sunshine away"

You've heard me sing this so many times to Marlowe that sometimes you start singing to her as soon as she starts showing signs of imminent cries. Tonight as the three of us were laying in the bed, waiting for sleep to take-over your exhausted bodies, you started singing again, just this. And I was able to record you in the darkness. This voice-memo is priceless to me. I was so secretly excited to catch all of your sweetness. 

Your voice and the love you have for your sister. This is what I would bottle for eternity right now. 

You haven't stopped to amaze me ever since your papa left, three weeks ago. You seem to be growing extra fast. You understand that I am sometimes very exhausted. You keep forgiving my imperfections and I keep telling you how much I love you. You are so sweet, so innocent and so full of love that I sometimes catch tears on my cheeks when I look at you. 
Last night, after a bit of a tantrum, you told me that when you are a grown up, you will get me presents and cook food for me. Then you said that when I will be three years old, you will take good care of me, the way I take care of you now. 
You are a gentle soul. I can trust you. You come straight to me whenever you do something you know you are not supposed to do and you say "but that's okay". You don't try to hide anything. yet. 
Your voice is also the one that cries "Papa" in the middle of the night. This voice breaks my heart and I am thankful for the gigantic bed we all sleep in because I can reach for you right away and hold you tight in my arms until you fall back to sleep. 

You are not so shy anymore. Even though you don't warm up to people easily, you start to socialize with random kids and adults wherever we go. You pick your peeps. And I want to respect the fact that you don't feel cosy with just anyone. You don't like to be touched too much and I do my best to give you your space. Adults love to touch little ones : a hug, a kiss, a pat in the back...I try to rescue you by saying "how about just a high five!" so you can walk away not feeling guilty. Some friends have learnt to cherish your hugs when you decide to give one and I know these people are special.

You are growing fast my boy and you don't cease to amaze me. We have a deep understanding of each other and I love you more everyday for everything that you are becoming. 

Sing on, baby boy.

A portrait of my children, once a week, every week, in 2016

Manech, Marlowe : The day we planted our first tree on our very own piece of land the very first day we officially owned it. We are still quite in disbelief. It all happened so fast yet it is something we have been waiting for and hoping for years. Dreaming about it every day. Our land. What a journey. Thinking that I got ourselves in escrow the only month Gurvan had been away from us in the last three years. Calling him and asking him if he trusted me in spending all of our savings for a land he had not seen. Not doubting for a second that he'd love it. Knowing I had to act fast. That it would be gone by the time he would come home. Crossing my fingers. Holding by breath when the seller's agent tried to get us out of escrow because they had obviously received a better offer. Not failing. Not doubting, again. My instinct guiding me, not letting space for hesitant thoughts. Taking friends and more friends there to comfort the intuition. Picking up your dad from the airport. Signing on my birthday. Closing the deal for good on your papa's birthday. It has been ours for a little over two weeks now and I am filled with gratitude everyday. It's raw. It's beautiful. The soil is so good. And the view is the unexpected cherry on top of it all. 
We are in for a new adventure. One that involves drawings and plans and foundations and permits and building. Our home will be small at first but our dreams remain big. To think that the day will come when you will have your own bedrooms in your own home makes my mama's heart so full. 

A portrait of my children, once a week, every week, in 2016

Manech : Anxiously waiting for your papa at the airport. You had been waiting an entire month for this moment. I could tell you were overwhelmed by the amount of people around us. I know you don't love being surrounded by a big crowd. You couldn't see clearly, afraid to miss him. When he finally arrived, his eyes lit up at your sight and you got all excited and shy at the same time. Giving him his lei we had made earlier in the morning then running away, grabbing my legs until you realized it was him, for real. You ran back in his arms all the while holding your sister's hand, like you always do. 

Marlowe : You were so right to give him the thumb up. He had been working [and partying -wife's sigh-] really hard while away. The amount of stress and exhaustion he had undergone was real and readable in each and every lines of his visage. But you were your usual happy-cuddly-baby and his tears of joy were as powerful as the love he has for you and your brother. 

Airports heartbreaking goodbyes and joyful welcome-backs are back in our lives. It was a first time for both of you but I have  10 years worth of experience and I will do my best to help you navigate this roller-coaster of emotions. As hard as it is, it somehow feels right. You two can be proud of your arborist-tree-climber-slash-tanker-captain-papa. And never, ever doubt the love he has for you. It is so strong and beautiful, it fuels our lives everyday and gives both of us the strength to write this new chapter of our life.