Things I love in 400 words.

The sucking sound that newborns make while they sleep, the way they angrily grunt while nursing after you’ve waited too long to feed them, my warm snuggly babies.

Buttered movie theatre popcorn with chocolate covered raisins mixed in, watching my kids sleep, waking up naturally, falling asleep again, a big fluffy duvet, getting into a freshly made bed with clean shaven legs, spending a weekend in my pajamas watching films, touching the pads on my cat’s paws, getting my fingers in between her toes (are they toes?), and that she lets me. A hot steamy shower, warm fuzzy slippers, walking through a park on a beautiful day, sitting under a tree, freshly cut grass, loud sloppy kiddie kisses, raspberries – not the fruit, poutine, deep red wine, red velvet cupcakes, vanilla cake with sugary frosting, Mexican mangos, fresh bread and olive oil, spicy curry.

Laughter, laughing until I cry and can’t breathe, the sound of crashing waves, the smell of the ocean, swimming, floating, riding my bike downhill, feeling my baby kick me — from the inside. My husband, working with him because we will still know each other when we retire, big old beautiful trees, listening to my son read, deadlines — I love the rush.

My mom and listening to her talk about her life, my family, memories of my grandmother, good friends since I was six and sixteen, meeting new people, music, dancing, singing — even though I can’t carry a tune, the smell of cigarettes, leather and men’s cologne — simultaneously, burning Nag Champa, coffee with cream and sugar, the crunch of fresh snow under my feet, warm woolly sweaters, hats, scarves and mitts — never gloves.

Having my teeth brushed and flossed at the dentist, the way that dogs are so happy each time their owner greets them, the wonder that I birthed two humans, watching them grow in awe, living in the heart of a great Canadian city, trips to Europe, British history, drinking spring water from the tap in Athens, visiting ruins in Cyprus, sleeping in a castle in Spain, getting off of a plane and inhaling the delicious smell of Portugal, flip flops and the sound they make, leather boots, the clickety-clacking of high heels on a hard floor — made by someone else.

The smell of pages in an old and loved book, fresh new pages in a journal, a fine point black pen, the smell of a freshly sharpened pencil, giant sunglasses, my marriage, sunshine on my legs, when my daughter calls me Mommy Gahnahnee.

This:

Thanks to Schmutzie for inspiring me!






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