Ripe Mango Chronicles

Alright friends. It’s been a minute since I’ve written, and by “a minute” I mean, I haven’t written anything worth anything since we left Haiti 4 and a half years ago. The writing process is therapeutic, and Lord help me, I need some therapy right now. So here we go. It’s officially time to process the dumpster fire that has been the Covid-19 experience in Ontario, Canada.   Today’s topic of discussion is the dreaded pivot. To be clear, “Pivot” is a fancy word used by politicians that means flip flopping back and forth between two completely different forms of education, both sides of which hold heavy and sometimes debilitating consequences. For the record, I am not here to say which side I think is the right one. I’m just here to tell you my story.  So let's go back to the beginning.    The world starts hearing about this thing called the Coronavirus. It feels very far away, and to be honest I didn’t pay too much attention. This Coronavirus begins spreading and ...

Merry Christmas to you and yours, What a year this has been for us all. Zander is just a few months shy of 2 years old already. He weighed in at 35lbs at his last doctors visit and is wearing size 3T and even some 4T now. He’s quite the chatter box and loves nothing more than spending time with his big brothers in the man cave downstairs or playing just about anything with Jubilee. He started daycare in October and is proving to be just as social as Jubilee. He puts his backpack on and stands at the door saying, “Bye momma, bye dadda.” every morning trying to hurry us along before he’s even had his breakfast. Jubilee just turned 6 and continues to be her bubbly self. She LOVES school and after school care where she has free reign over the art supplies and spends time each day after school making beautiful creations. Her creativity and real artistic talent blow me away constantly. She started French immersion this year and loves her new school. She has also informed us that she has a bo...

Thoughts on 300+ I've been overweight since childhood. I've never been skinny, ever.    I was 202lbs at my grade 8 graduation.  I hit 237 in highschool before busting my butt and losing 40ish pounds.  Between highschool and Haiti I spent many years in the 210- 230 range. I got down to 185ish in 2008 after months and months of dieting, insane workouts and a bout with Malaria. (I gained the 10 Malaria pounds back pretty much immediately.) I was 217 when I went to Texas for trauma counselling after the 2010 earthquake and started antidepressants. I was 237 at my wedding in 2012. I was 250 when I got pregnant with Jubilee in 2014 and 283 when I weighed in for the first time a few months postpartum in February 2015. I was 250 when I got pregnant with Zander in 2018, and 293 the day he was born in March 2019.  In the 16 months since having Zander instead of losing the baby weight I have managed to GAIN 24 pounds. Yes, GAIN. Bringing me to my all-time highest weight to...

Yesterday was January 12, 2020. The 10 year anniversary of the earthquake in Haiti. I've come to dread this date. I try to avoid social media on this day. I just don't really know how to handle the anniversary. Ignoring it makes me feel a little ungrateful, but acknowledging it just brings up a lot of bad memories I would much rather leave under the rubble. That being said, my children became mine because of this dreadful day, so there is a silver lining. So here we go; My annual earthquake entry. I am thankful I am alive. I struggle seeing myself as a survivor, but I could have died that day. Any number of different choices and I would not be here today. Every day is a gift. I am thankful the children and staff I was responsible for were safe. I am thankful I was able to care for and support the orphanage children and staff through the trauma. I see now how important that was for them, and for me, as someone who loves them so deeply.  I am thankful my (now) husba...

Tonight I read the following words in To the Land of Long Lost Friends by Alexander McCall Smith and it pierced my soul. In this fiction novel the main character, Mma Ramotswe, is visiting her friend who is the Matron of a large orphanage in Botswana.  During her visit she meets a toddler and hears the tragic story of her mother's death. Mma Tsepole is the housemother caring for the child.       Mma Tsepole turned away. She could not bear it; she could not bear it. And yet she had to, because this was her job and you could not allow your emotions to get the better of you. Others would have to do the weeping, because a housemother in tears was no help to other children. A housemother had to be brave.  These words took my breath away. I've wondered if I were heartless, if I had become hardened to the despair I was faced with every single day in Haiti. I wondered how it was possible to feel so emotionless, so often. I thought when I left the tears...

Merry Christmas to you and yours, We hope you have had a wonderful year. Ours was full and very exciting. On March 11 th we welcomed Alexander (Zander) Jeremiah into the world. He has been a wonderful addition to our family. He is a very happy and peaceful baby (as long as Mommy is around). He is 8 months now, has 4 teeth, is crawling everywhere and can pull himself up to standing. April 4 th was a very special day for our family; not only was it Kenol’s birthday, but Kenol and the older boys all became permanent residents of Canada that morning.   A day to celebrate indeed. We are so thankful to live in this beautiful, peaceful country. May we never take the privilege for granted. The boys also were granted US visas and are now international soccer players! Joshua and Olivier both play in leagues in the US as of this Fall. Joseph is now on the Regional team and will be playing as far as Toronto. Much of our life revolves around soccer; the boys train and play year roun...

I used to be a missionary. It feels like a million years ago, it also feels some days like it never even happened. It also feels in a rare occasion like I’m still in it, if I let my mind open the steel vault of memories it all comes rushing out with an intensity so overwhelming I have to slam it shut again for fear of completely losing control. The hardest part of leaving missions is finally having the courage to honestly ask myself if I did more damage than good. If being a part of the monster made me a monster too. I left a decade of ministry questioning everything I thought I knew about missions. I got to see the beast from the inside. The greed, the abuse of power, the pride and hierarchy. The way people were valued differently dependant on where they came from, who they were married to, and how much money was in their back pocket. I see now that my spirit had been completely crushed, my joy all but extinguish before I left. The only thing that kept me going the last two year...