You had a due date. Because that's what doctors and midwives give you to start what may be the longest count down of our life. Your due date was March 9th 2016. It would have been a Wednesday, like your brother. It also happened to be your grand mother's date of birth, my own mom. This year will mark 20 years of her passing away and while having her birthday as your due date came as a total surprise with a mix feeling of "wow-that's-pretty-special" and "wow-that's-a-bit-intense" I was hoping you would pick your very own day to come, one that wouldn't be the 9th. 

A few weeks before your birth, we had decided to have a midwife assist us. Her name was Jan.
We talked over the phone on Sunday February 28th and I  told her I could feel my body getting ready for you. It was really just that one day. But the feeling was strong and I said I doubted you'd make it through another week-end. Her and I decided that you would be coming the following Friday because a very pregnant woman may dream she gets to pick the day and time she'll give birth to her babe.
I had my very first mild contractions on my way to pick up your brother from daycare on Monday the 29th and I knew chances were you would not be overdue. Came Tuesday and my OB appointment. I was 1cm loose...which I had no idea what it meant (the loose part). I called Jan and she said she wanted to come for a visit. She came on Friday the 4th in the morning. Nothing had changed, I was feeling pretty good and we talked for a while. She told me you were definitely down but still a little posterior. She was supposed to go to a neighbor island on my due date the following week and we were hoping you'd come before then but the truth was that it didn't look like anything was happening right at that moment and that we would have to wave our hopes for a Friday delivery good-bye.
And so we said good-bye.
Later that day Gurvan, Manech and I went on a beautiful walk on the beach. I looked like a fat white whale trying to walk on a sandy beach but I loved every minute of it - the three of us in the expectation of your arrival. I went for a swim, it felt pretty darn good, ran into a few friends all wishing me good luck for the [hopefully] soon-to-come-delivery.
We were invited for a diner at night in a house tucked away in the jungle. I had made a big salad and was looking forward to spending time with good friends. But at the very last minute, as we were getting ready to leave I told your papa that I was feeling pretty exhausted after that long walk and was going to stay home and watch a movie while him and your brother were out for diner. The truth is that I was happy having a quiet evening by myself. I went to bed around 10pm that night. I heard them come home around 11pm.

My first contraction kicked in at 11:30pm. The boys were sleeping, Manech's warm little body close to mine. I stayed in bed waiting to see if there would be more contractions to come. They came. One after the other and after a while I started timing them. 10 minutes apart, lasting a good 1 minute each time. I knew this was it. I was in labor.
Because it took 22 hours with your brother from the first contraction until his birth I decided not to get too excited too quick especially since it was night time and I didn't want to wake any one up too early. I thought to myself that I would wake your dad up around 6am if the contractions were still coming.
I loved that moment. Being the only one awake, the only one knowing what was about to happen, watching your papa and your brother sleep unaware of my contractions, everything being so quiet. I took advantage of the stillness of the night to focus on you and me, to feel my belly knowing I'd eventually miss your kicks and punches, wondering whether Manech would have a baby brother or a baby sister. I talked to you, told you we were going to do this together and  that we would be just fine.
After 3 hours of labor in  bed I made my way quietly to the bathroom. Seeing some bloodish mucous, I decided to text Jan, our midwife, at 2:53am to let her know. She told me I was probably thinning and opening and that it was all good. So I went on to take a long and hot shower. It felt so good. The contractions kept on coming, getting stronger but I was in control. I was in my zone. Welcoming every contraction, expecting the next one, letting the hot water run against my back, going from squatting position down to my knees and hands. I could hear my breath adjusting, sounds were coming out of my mouth, it was all extremely instinctive. 
Around 3:30am your papa needed to use the bathroom (read: had to take a pee) and found me in the shower. He asked if "it" was happening and I probably rolled my eyes at him. Actually no, I think I said "yes, this it it" with a smile. I was in a very happy space. I stayed in the shower for a good 45 minutes then texted Jan again who was getting ready to come to our house as soon as I'd tell her to make her way. 
That's pretty much when the contractions changed to every 2 minutes lasting 30seconds and I wasn't sure how far into my labor I was. I told her she should maybe start driving as it was a 30 minutes drive from her place to ours. She arrived around 4:30 am. The contractions were starting to become stronger and stronger. Your dad was helping by holding me as I rested my back against his chest when a new contraction would come (yes he managed to take a photo of it). It felt good. We were a team. Jan listened to your heart and it was one of the best sound in the world. She checked me to see where we were at and announced 3 to 4 cm. I could see her time my contractions and closely look at me. She soon told us that we should start thinking about making our way to the hospital, that she could see things happening rather fast. I waited some more then told your dad he should try to wake our landlords up (who happen to be friends) so that she could come and stay with your brother. The whole time we had managed to stay quiet even as the contractions were getting stronger so that Manech could sleep some more. Gurvan started gathering everything we wanted to take with us, I gave Jan the "birth plan" I had written a few days before, Michele (our landlord) arrived and started talking just a little too loud as she was sitting on the bed which woke your brother up. At that point the contractions were strong and came in one after the other one pretty fast. It was heartbreaking having to leave your brother who did not want to let go of my leg, screaming and crying. We had told him this could happen and while it was really hard to leave him behind, we did, promising his dad would be back very soon so that he could meet "the baby". I held him against me very strong, kissed him and  jumped in the car. The truth is that I was deep in the I'm-about-to-give-birth-zone and did not look back. I knew Manech would be fine and most important that he was safe. ​

We were excited as we were making our way to the hospital even though my thoughts kept navigating towards your brother as well. In a way I was glad he was awake when we left. He knew what was happening and I was able to tell him how much I loved him. Jan was following us in her own car. I went through quite a few contractions and did yell at your dad something that went like "do not effing slow down when the light is green..what the hell are you thinking? I have a baby coming down my vagina...!!". Yes, a lot of poesy.
​Made it to the ER entry since it was too early to go through the main entrance. I had a hard time stepping out of the car and had to be pushed around in a wheelchair. Of course the fun part was having to check-in even though I had pre-register. I did my best answering the secretary 's questions in between two contractions. We couldn't help but smile. Then went through the quiet emergency rooms where doctors and nurses waved at us with encouraging looks, through corridors and elevator,  more corridors and finally made it to the delivery room. 
I changed my clothes, jumped into the sexy hospital gown they provide and laid in bed for the nurse to look at me. She announced 5cm. It was 6:30am. Jan said it was great, "1 cm an hour, good job", while I thought to myself that it meant I probably was going to be in labor for another 5 hours minimum. I was still hoping for a drug-free delivery.
​Jan and I decided I’d go for a shower and try to walk around but I never made it out of the bed. Instead the contractions became very strong and all I could do was to hold on to the bed  while making all kind of scary slash painful faces for your dad to photograph for my posterity (I’d ask for it) (glad I did). Jan was an amazing coach while the nurse really didn't seem to care much about what was happening. It was the end of her shift and she was probably looking forward to going home, can I blame her? She did try to hook me to an IV in case I was going to need some fluids but couldn't find the veine and gave up pretty quick. I laughed. I guess my nerves were laughing. At that point things were becoming very intense. Each contractions were getting harder to handle. I'd squeeze the bed's rails looking for a comforting look from Jan and your papa as the pain was escalating thinking to myself I wasn't going to have the energy to keep on doing this for another 5 hours, little did I know what was happening inside. Jan kept on rubbing my back and my feet while I could hear your dad snap more photos.
We were left alone for a moment and this is when my water bag broke as a new contraction came. It took me a second to realize what it was and I did (very slightly hum hum) freak out when I felt the warm fluid get out of my body and all over my legs. Jan told the nurse my water had broke and I did my best to lift my body so that they could clean me up a little. From there it all happened very fast. It felt like I wasn't much in control anymore. My entire body started shaking. I looked at Jan and she told me I was probably in transition. She came by my side and looked right into my eyes telling me it was all good. This is when I knew everything was okay. She had assisted hundreds of women before me and gave me the extra strength and confidence to go through the next few contractions, helping me adjust my breathing.
7am had come and our nurse seemed busy giving the heads up to the new one, not really realizing things were moving rather fast on my side of the room. I mean she had checked me half an hour before and I was only 5cm..she probably thought that she would be home and sipping her coffee by the time you'd come into the world. Right.
I started feeling a lot of pressure down in my bottom (the kind that makes you want to scream the sexy "I want to poo!!!" luckily I did not. Poo. I promise my baby, I did not) but I knew it meant that you were making your way out. And soon after I became that woman screaming "I gotta push  N O W". The nurse looked at me and said in disbelief "control yourself"...I mean wtf was I supposed to control here? But Jan who knew I was indeed ready to push whispered to my ear that I knew better and should let my body do whatever it needed to do at this point. This is when the nurse decided to check me again and realized that you were about to make your grand arrival. She rushed out to find the doctor (whom I had not seen yet) and this is when the new nurse came in. Jessica. Such a happy friendly energetic woman. I felt instantly blessed and thankful to have her in my team. Especially when some unknown OB doctor walked in with the most grumpy face I had seen in a long time. Everyone looked at each other wondering what the heck was wrong with him. Turned out that no one could find my doc and they had to wake this one up. Well sorry Doc, but isn't this why you are spending the night at the hospital and getting paid..?! Anyways, everyone became very busy around me finally realizing that I really had to push. My doctor did walk in as I was trying to get on my back and truly, this seemed to be the hardest for me to do : get on my back and open my legs! I think everything had happened so fast in the last 45 minutes that my body had a very hard time responding to my brain's commands, lost in the roller coaster of emotions and pain. It took each and everyone's encouragement to get me to open up and let you out. Your papa cheering me up as much as he could. ​

Two or three pushes were enough for me to get you out and up against my chest. I was in disbelief. We, you and I, had made it through the whole nine month, through the most intense hour of labor, and here I was, holding 7lbs3ounces of unconditional love. You came out beautifully pink with a very rond head, screaming just like you should be. Being the one getting to look in between your legs to find out whether you were a girl or a boy was incredible. I remember looking at your dad, the words came out "it's a girl!". We had absolutely no preferences but deep in my heart, I knew you were a girl.
You breastfed soon after and your papa and I were in awe of your perfection. 20 inches of perfection.
Marlowe, my girl, you picked your date, you picked your day. You were born on a Saturday March 5th of 2016 at 7:32am, exactly an hour after we had arrived into the delivery room, on the beautiful island of Maui. 

I have no answer to this question. I am not big at planing things ahead of time. I remember when I was pregnant with Manech, I didn't want to say we would do things a certain way. I am not a good planner, not the most organized woman around, but I am a good observer. And a few things I had learned from watching our friends become parents before us was : make no plans, set low expectations, don't judge and never say never. For real. If I was to give any advice to a new mom I'd say 'go with your flow, follow your mama's heart and instinct, call a girlfriend and pour some wine when needed, embrace the love, the struggles won't last (until the next ones!)'
This time feels pretty similar in many ways, a whole lot different in other ways. The biggest difference being that we are parents already. Even though I can not predict the kind of birth that is awaiting us, I know there will be physical pain involved in the process, I have learned to trust my body to bring this life safely out of the womb. However it will happen, love will heal the scars in a wink.
What I don't know yet and can't predict is how Manech will welcome his baby sibling because we have never transitioned to a new sibling situation before. I know there will be an outpouring amount of love in my heart, I know struggles will come and go, I don't know when, I don't know how they will come, I know we will navigate the unknown feelings all together and I am only hoping for Manech to never doubt of our love for him. 
I have two sisters and did not grow up feeling close to them even though now we're all good. To the point that it was a healing relieve when I finally left home to attend a boarding school 250 miles away from home before turning 16. Many reasons to this, it would need a whole write up of its own. The point being that life is quite unpredictable. And I wouldn't blame it on my parents, wouldn't blame it on my sisters. Things happen. Shit happen. Perfect parenting does not exist (or I've missed the memo). The best I can do is learn from my childhood and try to bring whatever I feel like I've missed into my own children's life. And see what happens. While I'm okay with talking about the past, and I'll probably talk some more about it some days, the future is where I want to live (I heard someone say something similar and it sounded so right). Meaning acknowledge your past, move on. 

​So of course I am dreaming on raising my children in sibling-love with one another. There will be fights and arguments and cries and corruption's attempts and bandages and maybe blood even (!) but I am also dreaming of love and cuddles and laughters and complicity and trust and major pillow fights on our gigantic bed before collapsing for the night.
While I am not good at planning, I am totally reading Peaceful parents, Happy siblings and I am blown away at how point on it is. It feels like I was raised pretty much the opposite way around. And what is being said makes total sense to me for the most part. I know this will be by my bed side for some good amount of time in the future. It doesn't guarantee anything regarding the relationship our children will build throughout the years but it will be a great guide for us. 
Also I do believe children need to be able to talk in a safe environment and need to know that they will be heard. 
They need to trust you will say the truth. They need to know you will answer their questions the best you can. They need to feel the intention you put in your words when you talk to them. They need to know that you won't dismiss a tear as being fake. I believe all of these help build trust and confidence in my relationship with my child and if it works between me and my boy then I like to think that there are chances he will behave in a similar way with his sibling. We are here to guide them after all.
These past few months we have been talking about the new baby coming. It started slowly. Sometimes I could tell Manech was not interested in such talks and I never forced him into listening to me. Then he gradually started asking questions, grabbing a book on the subject to read with us, hugging my belly.. He came to the OB with me a couple of times. He was home with us when our midwife came by two weeks ago. He was very interested in looking at what she was doing when she checked whether or not I had started dilating. We didn't try to stop him. We took this opportunity to talk some more about what was going to happen and how it was going to happen. How I was going to push the baby out of my belly and into our lives. He helped me organize all of our clothes diapers, didn't resist the temptation to try a few on. He knows what the breast pump is here for and points at the small carseat saying 'for baby'.  He knows we will all be sharing our bed with baby... In other words we try to include him as much as we can and as much as he wants to in our preparations. We talk about the baby with excitement and love. I'll even admit that I did go to the store yesterday and got him his very first baby doll. I haven't given it to him yet but I am thinking it will be fun for him being able to pretend to change diapers and feed a baby...
He has been the sweetest little human being for the past few month, we have been enjoying each and every moment spent all together. I can tell by the way he'll come and snuggle all against me at night, holding me tight against him that he knows his life is about to change and he is needing some comforting time which we are more than happy to give him. 
Then one day very (very!) soon we will be a family of four and I know we will have to adjust one day at a time. Again, no anticipation, no expectation, no pressure. What will be, will be. ​

With a baby coming Oh so soon, has come the urge to reflect on myself, my needs, my wishes. Wishes for the birth, wishes for our life as a family of four, wishes for my life as a mom and a woman.
It is so easy to let the whirl of modern life keep us from contemplating our deepest needs, from listening to our bodies, from caring for our own-self before caring for everyone else's around. Self-reflection allows us to scan our behaviors and adjust to our needs.
The urge to care for myself came a few weeks ago. The truth is I knew it was building for much longer but I kept shutting it down because I kept telling myself I had way more important to do than hold still for a moment and breath. I knew I was wrong. Isn't it interesting how much pressure we can put on ourselves, so much that we forget about the essential : self-care. 
I know why I tried to push my limits a little further everyday. It's partly because of my little tattoo business/collaboration I started last Summer and the fear of failing. I had so many ideas to expand and didn't want to let go of any. I will share more thoughts on that in a near future.  
The point being that I made the decision about 10 days ago to bring the focus on what is going to happen to my body and to our life in a very near future. Something I won't be able to put on hold when the time comes : pushing a baby out of my body (hopefully through my vagina..!) and into the world.
The second time around comes with more awareness than ever on what is actually going to happen {though you can't predict it all - you know it will be intense, raw, precious, painful, amazing, overwhelming, challenging, wild, beautiful, in no particular order} and I know that focusing on my body and mind should be my absolute priorities right now. 
​
I am not the most organized person in the world, I tend to daydream a lot, my wild empathy tends to play with my emotions and discipline is much needed in my everyday life. 
To-do list aren't my thing. I tried quite a few times. But they do help bring the focus back when I start feeling like I'm loosing it. Writing things down will help me prioritize. I know I will lose track of it soon after tackling the first few tasks but at least I'll have one or two things done before getting back into my "zone".
Now to-do lists tend to look a lot like : taxes-insurance-milk-postoffice-vaccum-emails-toiletpaper-bills...not the sexiest list to look at. 
In order to balance this everyday reality, I thought I'd make a happy-self-care-list so that I don't forget about my own-self in the tumultuous slash overwhelming every-minute work it takes in order to end the day with a home somewhat clean and appealing, work done, diner ready, happy baby, not-too-neglected-hubby, full fridge, laundry washed and folded, empty sink....I should definitely stop typing and get to work. NOW! 

Okay so here's what I need in order to feel happy, fulfilled, energized, loving (& lovable!), sexy (easy : get a baby out of my body and find a bikini that fits!) and keep  s a n e  : 

- First to my mind : Alone time. Because I am a loner. I function well alone. I find inspiration alone, when my mind isn't cluttered by other human sounds. I need alone time. I look forward to it and embrace it when I have it. And on that note I want to say that alone does not mean lonely. 

- Time to read. It could be a book (I am a book worm) but realistically, I haven't been able to figure a way to make a lot of time to dive into an intense book lately. In these months and years of early childhood parenting, a magazine is most likely to be found in my bag. Luckily there are some great magazines out there (currently loving the Lunch Lady, Click Magazine, 6 Mois, Flux Hawaii...). 
The only time of the day I am able to read a book without losing the thread and having to read the same sentence over and over again is when everyone else is sleeping. I started reading "Peaceful Parent. Happy siblings" by Dr Laura Markham. I look forward to it every night before bed. It is packed with info/tips to help build a peaceful relationship between your children (and yourself along the way). While it isn't an exciting fiction kinda book, I am loving it and recommend it warmly. 

- A BEER with a friend. I haven't had any taste for wine since giving birth to Manech (so much for a french gal) but a fresh beer (dark is my preference) and a good chitchat with a happy friend in the early evening is always a time I look forward to. Also I hope to be able to breastfeed this baby at least as long as I did with Manech (a little over 2 years), it's good to keep in mind that breastfeeding does not mean no more social life!

- Surfing / Muay Thai boxing / Windsurfing / Kettle Belling ... sport. I. need.

- Positivity. Meaning not letting room for negative parasites in my close surroundings. While it's okay to complain some days, because we are humans dealing with emotions such as anxiety, fear, love, I want positivity to win my days and loving people to fill my life. 

-Meditation (with meditation comes breathing) : is a practice I am looking to implement in my life on a much more regular basis. I would love to wake up in the morning before anyone else in the house and allow myself to start the day with a few minutes of meditation (a few minutes = set realistic goals!). If not in the early morning, then any time of the day will be just as good. Just. Do. It. 

These are all pretty simple habits that help me keep sane and happy and fun. Nothing's too complicated (I'll admit that it does help living in Hawaii for surfing). The only real challenge is to remember to make time for at least one of these throughout my day (without overdoing the over-easy beer thing).
Any tips you want to share that helps you keep sane some days? Because I do want to hear!
​

Settling into our tiny home has been a bit of a process and has taken way more time and energy than we had anticipated. The 7 cubic meters of boxes we received in October from Tahiti have added a lot of work to the process. It was the left overs from our bold move, either things we really wanted to hold on to such as my tiny vintage japanese couch (this name is a bit of a joke) which I had to fight for and have no regrets about since it now fits perfectly our tiny home, books we couldn't let go of (and still wouldn't let go of), my collection of fabric and way too many clothes all of which required loads and loads of washing. It seemed like an endless pile and took about 2 month (#nokidding!) to get over it. And I ended up giving away a lot of those clothes. No room for clutter. It was the perfect time to finally let go and stop holding on to material stuff (and emotional ones along the way as well). 
Here are a few photos of details that make our home a happy cosy one. We are still working on getting things organized before baby comes in. I know there will be days when I will crave a bedroom to sleep-in quietly and when living in an open space will drive me somewhat crazy but I am also so very thankful for the opportunity life has given us to grow so close as a family. Manech's excitement every time he hears his daddy's truck pulls in the driveway has absolutely no price-tag. And besides the times of doubt, wonders and even anxiety, it all feels right. We are making our way to the life we aim to live. Mistakes and Joy all mixed up in a happy package.
(Blue curtains came wit home, I think they're okay for now!).

Do you remember the photo series "Where Children Sleep"? It went viral on the internet a little while ago. Back in 2010, James Mollison documented children's bedroom from around the world. If you've somehow missed it, you should check it out now. It was quite interesting slash trippy slash kinda scary! 
James Mollison came back 5 years later with another photo essay documenting schools playgrounds from around the world. Again, his images are very powerful. Not only do they witness the differences in children's environment from all over the world, they also bring back our very own playground's memories from our own childhood.
And I'll admit that my memories really aren't fantastic. I went to a private catholic school from kindergarten 'til I was 15 in my home town, in France. Playgrounds were a scary unsafe place for me. I was one of those bullied child. Big long teeth, too skinny, not fashionable (denim jeans where not allowed in our closet for the longest time!), struggling at home with a sick mom, and not only bullied in the playground by other kids but also by my very own sister. It was quite awful. I would do my best for people not to notice me. I remember that girl, her name was Alix, she was my sister's friend in high school. My sister was waiting for me on the curb outside of school, my mom had passed away not long before. The girl looks at me as I am walking towards them and screams in front of all the older kids "Oh you're right, your sister is so ugly". I froze. Ever since my childhood I have been a fierce defender of bullied people. But then playgrounds also showed me the way to true beautiful friendship. My two best girlfriends growing up were the opposite, they were the pretty girls, the ones boys would want to hang out with. They were the cool ones. And never, not once, have they let me down. They would protect me no matter what. If the boys didn't want to play with me, then they'd stay with me. Those two were my safe place and my everyday dose of love and affection. Julie and Laure.
I have always thought of school's playground as a place where you had to be either pretty or tough. I was not pretty and I was not tough. I cried a lot. This is something I do not want to pass on to my children. No matter what they may look like, I want them to grow in an environment where they can feel safe and strong enough to stand up for themselves. I want them to be respectful of others, no matter our differences. There will be no compromise on that last point. 
That's how far James Mollison's photography work has taken me. while inspiring me to dig further in my own photography journey.
Interesting to think that the first thing I noticed on the photos were the kids being made fun of or even hit while some other people may focus on the kids laughing and having a blast in their freedom kingdom.
1 child = 1 childhood = 1 chance to make the world a better place

above : Pei Qiao Central Middle School, Qingyuan, China - My favorite photo-wise : I love the balance between the concrete and the greens.

Above : Kaloleni School, Nairobi, Kenya

Above : SDCCL Public School, Sikka, Gujarat, India 

above : Ugo Foscolo Elementary School, Murano, Venice

Above : Aida Boys School, Bethlehem, West Bank

Above : Dechen Phodrang, Thimphu, Bhutan

Above : Maamounia Elementary Rhimal Area, Gaza City, Gaza

Above : Gomalandet Skole, Kristiansund, Norway

Above : Bhakti Vidyashram, Katmandu, Nepal

Above : Paso Payita, Aramasi, Chuquisaca, Bolivia

Above : Sohei Elementary School, Tokyo

Above : Nativity School, Los Angeles

Above : Emiliano Zapata Elementary School, Pachuca de Soto, Hidalgo, Mexico

Above : Affiliated Primary School of South China Normal University, Guangzhou, China

Have you ever looked at your friends, siblings (..), feeling some kind of vicious jealousy trying to make its way up to your brain down to your heart?
Com'on yes you have, you must! right? 
Luckily jealousy isn't a feeling I am much familiar with. I am not sure why, I've never really been able to explain it but I believe I have always found enough happiness within my own self and life not to envy anyone else's life? Must be it. Even though life has been rather rough in my early years, I tend to be an optimistic and Life has proved me right (I mean : hellooo I live in Hawaii!!). I guess it all started with being born free. A pretty amazing gift when you think about it. 
This past week, two of my really dear friends sent me some great news (work-wise) for them. One is about to become the head of the international development for a large company while the other one just embarked on a 7 weeks adventure in antarctica to work on a pingouin-related documentary, a dream of hers and I know she's worked her butt off to be part of the project. Then I looked at my sisters : one is a tv news ancre and is about to have her second book published in a couple of month by a great french publisher and the other one just got hired by one of the most prestigious luxury french company as the head of development of their leather goods (shhhh I am not even allowed to say the name of the company!). These are just a few examples amongst other of extremely talented inspiring women who happen to be in my life. 
Of course my childhood friend's happy job news caught me in a moment of self-confidence-sabotage if that makes any sense at all. For a moment I looked at myself and thought "damn it, you're 33 and you're nothing" , you know, that kind of very helpful thought that makes you feel awesome for the rest of your day. Lucky the thought didn't last and I was able to transform it into a "wooooopwoooop freaking rad having all these inspiring women in my life!"
I was then able to face my seriously expanding belly and realized that hey! I am busy creating a life right now, and it includes (or at least I hope it does) 2 arms, hands, legs, feet, lungs, eyes, ears, kidneys, more or less a hundred thousand billion neurons (I googled it), a cute little nose and mouth and a beating heart! While creating all of these, I was able to start a tiny business, to connect with some really great artists, and shoot portraits of my boy every single week of the year as I was home to watch him grow and become the amazing little human being he is. 
I know, I am totally hugging myself right now throwing high fives in the air. 

Yes I sometimes wish we too were able to borrow a few bucks from an old auntie to buy a piece of land but the truth is that I feel pretty damn happy in my own un-perfect life and I believe we all have the power to turn our dreams into realities. It might take a few more years for some of us but the more inspired by others we are and the less time we waste on being envious (or worst, jealous) = the faster we'll be able to touch our dreams.
It all leads to one important thing in life : wisely choosing who we hang out with. But that will have to wait for another post to be written 'cause right now, I need to craft my little boy's very first stocking with denim fabric given to me today by an inspiring friend.
Feeling merry and inspired (and really just thinking out loud here).

grat·i·tude
ˈɡradəˌt(y)o͞od/
noun
noun: gratitude

1. the quality of being thankful; readiness to show appreciation for and to return kindness

November is coming to an end. I love waving November good-bye. 
How weird is it to fear a month? I won't think about it until something tragic happens and I realize oh! It's November!

It started 19 years ago when my mom passed away suddenly in front of my eyes. 8 years ago it was my best friend who committed suicide. I wasn't thinking about it at all this year until the horrific tragedy happened in Paris :  Friday, November 13.
It took a few hours before I was able to reach out to all the people I deeply and dearly love who live in Paris. Sisters, cousins, friends. 

Gratitude is something I have been trying to bring into my life on a daily basis these past few month. I consider myself as a happy lucky woman. Yet I realized I wasn't truly expressing my gratitude quite as much as I would want to.
A few month ago I started a gratitude-note-book. Nothing fancy. Just a little note-book I try to open almost everyday to write down what I am thankful for this very day. It doesn't have to be anything spectacular. It could be as simple as a laughter that lasted longer than usual, it could be that Gurvan won his first own bid at work (okay that is spectacular!), it could be that I am grateful for a friend who took a minute to text me some nice words, it could be the rainbow making my drive to the grocery store breathtaking, I could be thankful for the cashier who carried my 5 gallons of water for me, the man who held the door, thankful that my bikini still fits (barely), I can be thankful for a smooth evening with our boy putting himself to bed.
On November the 14th I was thankful to find out all of my friends were safe, realizing only then how close of a call it had been for a few of them. It does feel somewhat biter and selfish as some people weren't so lucky.
This tragedy has made my desire to be grateful everyday even stronger.

Complaints are easy. We all miss something in our lives. We all wish we had a healthy family, tons of money, a handsome perfect hubby, the latest trendy boots, great cooking skills, the perfect downward-dog pose, the perfect skin (boobs, lips, eyes, hair, calves, toes, you name it), all of this wrapped up in a drama-free happy world. The truth is we tend to focus on what may be missing but miss to see what we do have and what the universe sends our way everyday. 
It makes such a big difference at the end of my day when I seat down for a few minutes and contemplate what I am grateful for. Forget the asshole who stole your parking spot with a wink and a smile. Whatever my days are made of, I realized that I always have something I can be grateful for. It's easy. Even if I had a total fucked up day, I'm here to talk about it : alive = grateful! 
Might sound naive. But such a good exercise. Not as easy at first as one may think. And really. Even those bad days have their share of beauty only waiting for us to open our eyes. 
I also believe that being grateful and sending a thankful message out to the universe does go a long way. Do you want to be nice over and over again to someone who never expresses any gratitude? No! I am not talking about sparkles and golden rewards but a genuine Thank You keeps me wanting to keep helping as much as I possibly can.
Why would the universe be nice to you if you never express your gratitude?
How could you express your gratitude if you don't take a minute to focus on all those beautiful little tiny moments that you get to live?

Becoming a lot more minimalist in my approach to life and possessions, re-thinking the value of time, opening my heart to more gratitude everyday...These are all work-in-progress. I still catch myself every now and then (often more than I'd want) having time-wasting-thoughts, but I have noticed that I now and most of the time catch the thoughts before they make their way too deep and I am able to kick them out of my brain as soon as they appear. 

Conscious and Thankful for a Meaningful Life.

(photo above is a selfie! I'm holding the camera and we are laughing so hard making all kind of faces. Lucky this one turned out so good!).

Do you believe we are the makers of our own time or do you think you have to do with whatever time is given to you, and therefor you'll never have enough time to do everything you want to do?
Until pretty recently I tended to think I had to do the best of the 24hours that punctuate each and every day. 
That was before I'd heard about the Einstein approach of time vs the Newton approach of time (the one most of us live in). I won't get into the technical theories here, you can google them as much as you want. 
But I have gone on a pretty strict diet : I have decided to stop complaining about time. To not give room in my mind for such complaints. It's a hard diet to go on, believe me! You can try it for yourself, see how many times a day you think you don't have enough time to accomplish all that you want to do, that you are running out of time, that you wish there were 36hours in a day. How many times a day do you look at the clock ticking on your watch or cellphone?
If you're late for an appointment yet run into a friend while leaving the grocery store, try not to say you don't have time for a chitchat...that's a hard one! But instead of saying "sorry I don't have time right now" (usually this comes with an exhausted-worried-look), you can simply change your words and say "hey let's make time soon to catch up!" (with a smile and a happy-face!).
This might sound silly at first but what a difference it makes in my everyday approach of time and hours passing by. I've come to realize that I am in charge of making the time I need for my life. Complaints about time still come to my mind, almost everyday, but I don't let the thought take up space in my mind. I notice it, I acknowledge it and I wave it good-bye. It is quite a challenge when you have children, work to do, lunch and diner to think about first thing in the morning , groceries to go shop....an endless list really.
But what a relieve to stop complaining about time. What a relieve to come to the realization that you can make time for what you want to achieve. It might means that the laundry won't be folded right in the second the dryer has stopped drying, it might means there will be a few toys laying around the house for another couple of days or unboxed boxes waiting for you to give it some attention. I personally have had to put a bit of my social life on hold lately. But frankly, I have spent most of my twenties being very social, partying, meeting new peeps, traveling, and I loved it but right now, I am making time for my family AND myself. It is quite a new concept for me : m y  s e l f ! 
Stopping the time-complaints-thing has helped bring the focus back in my life. I don't want to complain therefor I make time for what matters most to me right now. And baking a chocolate cake on a Wednesday with my 2 year old, picking up my camera because the light in our kitchen corner is pretty damn good and because photography matters to me, getting a nice photo of my son, laughing out loud with him as we dip our fingers in the melted chocolate, watching him try to break an egg and spill flour all over the floor while doing so, that's what I want to make time for. 
And somehow, this no-complaint-about-time-thing seems to work wonder work wise as well. To the point I go, more focus and more efficiency = more tasks accomplished in less time.
Will this help keep my sanity when baby2 comes along? Maybe not, but it's okay, I will then be able to drink a good ol'Guinness when in deep need of me-time.

Side note : I believe a little boy who knows how to bake a chocolate cake will turn out to be a great Man!

It's a : DONE!
Cut off 12 inches of my hair on Wednesday. I loved my long hair with blond locks but running a new business, having a 2 year old little boy, being about 5 month pregnant, the list could go on & on….I had to make time somewhere and  my long hair were becoming somewhat of annoying, always up in a bun. Also being pregnant is supposedly a good time for a hair cut as the hair tend to grow faster & thicker.
It was there, in the back of my mind. Then I heard of the Children With Hair Loss, a non-profit organization (http://www.childrenwithhairloss.us) and my mind was all made up. I waited a few more weeks to get some extra length and my ponytail is now making its way to the organization’s headquarter in Michigan. Not bragging about it but it seems like a very very easy way to help a child right here. I mean : I feel so effing lucky to be healthy and to have hair that actually grow..I am stocked to know this might help bring a smile on a child’s face for free. And truly I feel pretty much the exact same as I was feeling yesterday, maybe a little stronger as I find the process of cutting so much hair at once rather empowering. And I was soooo happy the next morning not having to look for a hair tie! Now I can’t wait for the next express-shampoo..
​Life is Good.
(I know, long hair to the left look quite different from the ponytail, that's because I'd never, ever use a brush but my hairdresser had to brush them before cutting. Definitely going back to the messy look soon!).

A place to cherish. Old friends to love. 

Photos taken a few week-ends ago. ​
all photos credits : Happy-Bandits