I can’t say I regret buying our house — which doesn’t have a single dividing wall on the entire main level, other than around the bathroom — because it worked well for us when we had babies and toddlers. In those days, I needed to be able to watch the kids closely at all times — even when I was ducking into the kitchen to empty the dishwasher.
Now that they’re six and eight, I feel a longing for one particular house we toured. It was really old and had lots of little rooms, all separated by hallways and doors. I’d scoffed at the closed-off kitchen at the time, but now I think it would be nice to shut myself in there and listen to music quietly while I make dinner … without hearing the TV blasting from 15 feet away.
Anyway, the other issue with an open-concept house is that you can’t easily transition to different paint colours because the whole level is all connected. No walls. No doorways. Just … openness!


I’m always Googling lyrics to new songs I hear, and often the words are the entire reason I like a song — no matter how it sounds. (On the other side of things, Darling Husband likes songs for their beat, which is why he loves techno — what an adorable lil’ weirdo.)
I don’t write much about music, but I’ve been meaning to put together a post with some of the songs I find inspirational because of their lyrics. It’s a totally bizarre mix — Pitbull, Nickelback, and the TROLLS soundtrack?! — but I swear, it makes sense in my head.
Ready?
It happens almost every day, immediately after our daughter gets off the bus. She’s smiling, she’s running toward me, she’s hugging me — that’s all fine. But then she asks if she can play with so-and-so or do something when we have other commitments and I have to say no.
Right there in front of everyone, she starts screaming or crying or throwing herself down on the sidewalk. It’s called afterschool restraint collapse and apparently, I’m not alone here, which is quite reassuring. But I am still so over it.
Our whole family was thrilled when my sister got engaged last August. She asked me to be her matron of honour — yay! — and she wanted our eight-year-old son — her only nephew — to be the ring bearer.
He immediately declined, explaining, “I don’t want everyone to look at me!”
Meanwhile, our daughter was already twirling around the room, happily shouting, “I want EVERYONE to look at me!”
She was born to be a flower girl. Undivided attention as she paraded down an aisle, beaming and holding flowers in a fancy dress? Yup, that’s our Charlotte.
We all joked she was going to do her best to outshine the bride, but as the wedding approached, I wondered if that was actually going to be the case. She certainly practiced a lot.
For months, it felt like the wedding would never, ever arrive and then suddenly, it was just a few weeks away. I was busily sewing the kids’ outfits, struggling with the slippery fancy fabrics I don’t normally mess with. It took two tries to get a flower girl dress, the first one was a hideous too-wide number drowning in navy tulle — but my first-ever bow tie came together nicely.
I had last-minute worries about how they would hold up, though — the kids, not the clothes (although my sewing is always a bit questionable). Would they be exhausted before the ceremony started? Would they freak out when they saw the crowd of strangers? Neither had been to a wedding before, let alone been a part of one …

https://www.instagram.com/p/BnR2QeqnlMf/?hl=en&taken-by=evanmcmaster
https://www.instagram.com/p/BnPWSZxn6ND/?hl=en&taken-by=evanmcmaster
I was in the process of redecorating the bedroom of a lovely 13-year-old, and I knew I wanted to keep her stuff corralled so it looked as tidy as possible.






