Learning to take it slow, much slower than I ever have before. Of enjoying the spring sun make it’s way into our bedroom, of lingering longer and letting breast milk soak into the sheets instead of waking while Mister takes care of our bebe, for unexpected quiet mornings at home with a sleeping babe on my chest.

I am diligent to make sure our home is calm and relaxing for the three of us. Some days personal items are all over the living room and I trip over a grey and white polka dot blanket as I make my way to her, but most days I’m able to start the day with the dishwasher whirring, the floors swept, and toys tucked away until the next play time. When I spend those few minutes preparing our home I find I am way more productive the rest of the day and I can go to sleep knowing my home represents us.

Fresh tulips on a glass table. An orchid plant still thriving. A small grey and white child’s toy on a cream rug. An extra large pillow purchased in Vancouver next to a black and white graphic pillow from London both placed on top of a sheepskin rug from Holland. These are some of my favourite pieces of home.

Every day we bundle up against the elements and walk around the city. A latte in a cardboard take away cup we wander the city popping in and out of stores, her in her black on black pram, me in black ballet flats, black cigarette pants paired with a creme knit top and curled hair.

I observe how having a babe attracts older men and women to peer into her pram and pass such loving and knowing smiles in our direction. When I notice other pregnant women in the city I pass along the loving and knowing smile. It feels like an elite society that I have been initiated into and am now welcoming others. I have experience and knowledge in the area of parenthood, childbearing, and babies. A man walks along beside me on the street asking where we got the pram, how I like it, and how is parenthood so far. He is expecting twins in just a few weeks. I see the anxiety and excitement in his face and realize I was recently there, chasing down other bugaboo owners asking their opinion.

Holding a smiling cooing babe in my arms while walking around a store a young handsome man in a dark wool coat and a freshly cut side part catches my eye in the window. He looks at me, bottom to top, staring intently then smiles his approval all the while continuing on his way. My stomach drops, even with a babe in my arms and a 7 week postpartum body, he made me feel beautiful, sexy, feminine, attractive in that fleeting moment.

Soaring and feeling beautiful I stop at the wine store and pick out a bottle filled with soft elegance and intensity of fruit for me to enjoy, it fits perfectly into the cup holder of the pram.

I enter our empty warm house and play relaxing ambient music. I spend a few moments playing with our babe before putting her down for the night then pour myself a glass of Merlot while reading a beautiful testimonial from a past client.

As I crawl into our bed with clean white sheets I feel like the universe is telling me, it’s time. I have a purpose, I need to step into it.