Christmas tree family photo! .. and it’s amazing how hard it is to keep a toddler away from a saw…





** Curious George is a new, and constant, member of our family these days **

Yikes!

Ollie this morning:

 
 Emmett’s reaction:


And then one miserable troll ruined the whole thing…

So, I haven’t been doing a great deal of actual blogging lately because, well, I have a toddler and a baby. I have been doing a lot of mental blogging, hoping to get back at the physical blog soon, and I’ve been the recording the beautiful, crazy and funny moments with my two little guys as well as formulating more content heavy, opinion/experience/discussion type posts as well. The little moments aren’t making it to the blog because of the aforementioned busyness. The other types of posts aren’t making it for the same reason, as well as a few others.

I love to write and I have a lot of ideas and opinions, some of them good and interesting, many of them not so great and pretty conventional, and a few that are maybe a little controversial. That anyone reads my blog at all is such a lovely surprise to me, and I appreciate every single person who does, because it feels really really good to have people interested in me and my amazing sons, but in a small way it can also feel a little stifling.

When I want to say something less cute/less positive/less conventional, I stall, because I can usually think of a few people who might be offended, and usually I can think of those people by name and relationship to me, and I don’t want to hurt any feelings or damage any relationships. (This makes it sound like the stuff I’m not saying is really heavy - it probably really isn’t.. somewhere more in the range of like “people who litter are assholes”, when I might know a litterer or two).

So I’d been thinking maybe I needed a side project, or just to be more bold, or maybe to stop blogging all together, and then this morning the answer was forced on me anyway.

I used to work in a place where I encountered many different people, with many different backgrounds, many who had different struggles they were dealing with while trying to participate in the community. Mostly I was privileged to get to work with people who wanted to help and offered their skills with enthusiasm and positivity. On the other hand from time to time, as all supervisory jobs do, my job included “disciplining” some of the same people.

A few months before I left for my maternity leave from that job, I had to ask an individual not to return to the building. The incident was handled professionally, the individual was quiet and not particularly difficult to deal with, and the whole thing pretty much faded into the background of my day to day working life.

Until one day, after my mat leave was over and I had decided not to go back to work, I was contacted by my former supervisor to let me know that the organization had started receiving disturbing emails about me from that same individual. Emails with lots of ugly words and ideas, and allusions to my family and accusations about my behavior (wild accusations, like, laughably wild). The police were informed and the individual was warned and the whole thing was weird, a little scary, and then in the past. That was about a year and a half ago.

On Saturday evening my Dad, through his business website contact form, received the same email, from the same individual. For whatever reason after all this time, this person was angry with me again, and had gone to the trouble of seeking me out, I can only assume, through social media.

These emails aren’t threatening, and I have no actual reason to believe that this person is dangerous, but I certainly have reason to be cautious about what I’m putting out into the world right now. This person lives in my neighbourhood, he knows I have kids and he knows what I look like, and he’s an angry guy.

My gut tells me that actually he is just an angry troll. The type who wouldn’t step out from behind a keyboard even if I confronted him directly, but I can’t go on my gut alone, and I have two really good little reasons to be cautious.

So for the time being, my blog is going to be protected so that only people I know can read it. I can’t begin to describe how frustrating this is for me. Because while I’m not that scared of this guy, and I’m not convinced he’s a real danger, I know I need to be careful and that makes me so angry at him. Something I really enjoy has to stop because of a stupid, angry, crazy email.

I know that this step alone doesn’t really hide my internet presence (I know that the internet never forgets and anyway, I’m still going to exist on other social media spaces) but it preserves the privacy of my posts going forward and allows me to continue to document my life with my two little guys as I chose, without worrying about who is reading. I know that this is going to mean fewer of my friends and family reading - having to log in to view my blog will probably be one step too many for almost everyone except grandparents, but I guess that’s what’s got to happen for now.

When I started my blog I did it because I was fascinated by the whole world of blogging that was going on with mums, a whole new community to me, and I wanted to experiment with getting involved. I did it because I wanted a space to vent and brag and share. I did it because I wanted a space to get my thoughts out of my head and onto the computer. For the past two and a bit years, it has done that for me. At the same time I’ve realized that I’m probably never going to be much of a participant in the mommy blogging community and that, as I mentioned earlier, it can actually stop me from getting my thoughts out into the world sometimes, and maybe I want a little something different.

So, as they say.. when God sends an insane, vaguely threatening email, he opens a window (is that it?). So yes, this guy and his anger is taking away my ability to participate as a “mommy blogger” right now, but it’s also giving me an opportunity to create a new space on the web that’s more about me, and less about this one incredible role I play. I haven’t exactly decided what shape that new space will take, but it’s coming, and soon I hope. Because it feels good to write, and because I like sharing with people this way, and because, fuck him, you know?

Whatever it is, I’ll keep you posted. In the meantime, consider yourself among the Meagan approved non-crazies, and if you’d like, keep reading along as Oliver and Emmett keep growing like beautiful, hilarious little weeds. And thanks for having read this long winded post, and every other long winded thing I’ve spewed out over the past two years.  It’s meant a lot.

Emmet: Four Months!


This picture is actually a few weeks old, but I’m just slightly behind on my photo uploading (and to be honest, taking.. I hate to say it, but I know why there are fewer photos of second children, and it has nothing to do with how much you love them). But anyway, Emmett looks just like this, and it pretty accurately represents things he’s into - laughing, sticking his tongue out and hanging out outside.

Stats: 14 lbs, and 23 and a half inches long. Emmett is chunky, chunky, chunky, with adorable rolls at every turn and a barrel chest that he’s really into sticking out like a proud little peacock. 

Skills: Rolling to his side (left side preferred), thumb and/or finger sucking, full fledged giggling and sweet, insistent babbling conversation.

Likes/Dislikes: Happily for me, Emmett likes nighttime sleep - he only wakes up once a night most nights and that’s for a quick snack, then right back to sleep. Less happily, he isn’t so crazy about daytime sleep - rarely napping longer than 15 minutes and usually needing to be worn to get even that much. But I’ll take it. I know what all night sleep deprivation feels like, and it’s bad news… so stay up all day little Emmett, because I’m loving what you’re doing at night!




Tags: Emmett

Talking to Two: “I’m Sick” edition

Oliver: Mummy, I feel sick
Me: Oh no, what feels sick Oliver? What part?
Oliver: Here (indicates chest)
Me: Your heart?
Oliver: Yes
Me: What does it feel like?
Oliver: Like a burp
Me: Like a burp?
Oliver: (nods) And like goo

Me: …. ?