My toddler won’t sleep…

It’s currently 4:07 am and my one year old has been fighting sleep since 3:30 pm. Smack dab in the middle my sleep is interrupted by the constant whimpering that slowly progress into full blow cry. As I’m hearing this I’m debating whether or not I should get out of bed. I know she’s ok, she’s never really been much a sleeper.

She’s good with laying down in her crib but the falling asleep stage had always been a struggle. Even now as she lays her head on my chest, she’s moving and squirming, making herself comfortable as my heart heartbeat serves as an internal lullaby and my growing fetus is currently kicking around.

Her eyes are open but her gaze is sleepy. She’s tired. We both know it. So I do what any Christian mother would do. I pray. I pray and I speak over my child. I command the angels to watch over her. I pray hoping for the miracle that my baby needs to sleep through the night. I pray in Jesus’ name and I wait. I hear nothing. I get up and I leave. Once I close the door the whimpering return and I’m left feeling more hopeless than when I went in. This isn’t the first time and yet here we are still faced with this predicament.

Should I pick her up? Should I bring her into my bed? Did she have a nightmare? Is this a night tremor? Maybe she napped too long. Or maybe not enough. Let’s go through Google on this. I’m already awake so I might. Lord knows I need answers. Once again, equipped with my smartphone in my hand, I use my external brain to find an answer that will help. I’m sure there there’s a mommy blog out there with the answers I need.

Sure enough there is. In fact, there’s plenty. It’s nice to know that I’m not the only one. Of course, the reasons of why this could be happening isn’t a clear cut diagnosis. Since toddlers lack the ability to accurately express themselves. To be honest, at 34 years of age I find myself at times unable to accurately express myself except through tears. So it makes sense that a child who’s been on this side of life for less than two years would also have this issue. It’s not her fault

The first thing that I notice is the need for patience and lots of it. All of this is normal and like most people, this too shall pass. I personally would hope that it could’ve passed months ago, but no. Once again, patience and grace is required for this challenge. This is not just her challenge, it’s ours. We both are tired and awake. We are both annoyed. We are both sleepy. Both of our sleep has been interrupted for some unknown reason. My otherwise happy toddler is now annoyed by this unforeseen grievance and is calling out for my help to navigate through this trying and at best find the solution to this.

Umm, I don’t know who lied to her but I don’t have the answers. At best I have Jesus and Google. All I can do is pray and assess. But here we are.

After debating the next best step I know what I don’t want to do. I don’t want to bring into my bed. I don’t feel like wrestling a toddler tonight. My body has been through enough and is still going through it. I don’t want to be up all night either. I don’t want to hear crying. So I do what I believe is the next best thing. I pick her and lay her in my chest. A mother’s hug is always welcomed. I let my chest be her pillow and allow her to feel safe by my presence. I don’t know if I’m doing it right. But I know that her breathing has slowed down. Her body. I longer tense nor stressed. She’s sleeping peacefully.

It’s moments like these I’m reminded of what patience, grace and love can accomplish. In the moments that it took for me to write this blog post, my little one has fallen asleep. As I’m get ready to bring her back to her bed, I’m aware that this same kind patience shown to be me I must show to myself. Life is a series of transitions. Some are annoying and some are great. How we handle them makes us great.

Show up And Serve

I woke up this morning and I was absolutely miserable. I mean, literally woke up ready to cry my eyes out. I didn’t get a chance to process my emotions as I was trying to understand how I could wake up from my sleep and still feel like I haven’t slept at all. Those are the worst kinds of sleep. Needless to say I was exhausted physically. As I was contemplating getting out of bed and justifying delaying my morning routine while everyone was still sleeping, I heard my youngest call out to her father. He was just about ready to go to work. Of course, I got up, got her and brought her to my bed. Sometimes, I can get her to lay down with me for a while, while I gather my thoughts together.

It wasn’t long before my husband came into the room and needed me to take care of something that needed my immediate attention. This is not the way I wanted to begin my morning. I just needed a moment to gather my thoughts. It was being taken from me, moment by moment. Piece by piece. With my head on my pillow, I placed my arm over my eyes, avoiding the emotional flood that was about to hit me. I knew it was coming. All the alarm bells were going off and I couldn’t evacuate.

Is there anything I could have done?

As I laid there, all I did was try to find the missing link. I needed to find the culprit. I knew it was me. I knew that I was stressed about things I couldn’t control. But, there’s this innate desire in me to fix all that is broken. My online presence was suffering and all I could do was see my shortcomings. Could I have done anything differently? I wasn’t making any money. All these prospects were drying up. I was becoming as irrelevant as I had believed myself to be. Maybe I had been over confident, I overshot my shot. I should have just done what always works, that is being afraid and running away.

Truth is, I don’t want to go back to the way things were. There’s nothing wrong with being working a 9-5 but it’s not for me. I can’t do it. I can’t work for someone else making enough money to pay half of bills. I can’t go back to spending my energy being someone other than me for majority of the time. I am not that person. I don’t want to be successfully broke. I don’t want to update my resume in hopes that some government worker is going to take pity on the fact that I’m a minority who is also bilingual. Mind you that hasn’t worked either.

What to do?

Someone commented on a post I made and what they said resonated with me.

“We don’t give up. We keep showing up and eventually things will get better.”

You know what? She’s right. I don’t know what will happen in a month or two. All I have is the last four months to go on. I know something’s got to change and it will. I know it won’t happen overnight and I still have a lot of learning. There are still some major life transitioning phases that I will have to navigate. I can only my best with what I have. My only hope is that it’s enough.

We need to be inspired effectually and effectively. You and I both know that this world is far from perfect. For years, we’ve been told what is and is not acceptable by people who have the funds to sell their message. We’ve bought their message and believe their story to only find out that it was a lie all along. This is not the kind of message I want my daughters to believe.

I started this to prove to myself that I have what it takes to be the woman that my children can be proud to call their mother. But most importantly, I need to prove to myself that I am not wasted potential. I am not just an influencer or that girl who used to be smart. I am not just a housewife that is dependent on her husband for a paycheck. I am not a poser on the ‘gram trying to get like and comments. I am more than that.

I am a living and breathing testimony that anything can happen if you’re willing to have faith and put in the work. I have seen domestic abuse first hand. I know what it’s like to be homeless. I know what it’s like to be an undocumented immigrant. I know what it’s like to feel rejected, to be told that your feelings are invalid. I know to be knocked off a pedestal that was build for you by those who “believed” in you just to be knocked down and have your head hit the ground. The reason is I keep coming back is because I have a job to do.

I have to serve my community, near and far. I may not be remembered for my work but as long as my words inspire you to get up and keep fighting for your destiny then I have done my job. If you are able to relate to this and still choose to get up and keep going then I’m doing my job.

You are living breathing miracle. You have survived all the trauma and criticism you’ve faced. Your energy transcends your presence and continuously affect those you have encountered. Your smile is infectious and cause others to feel at peace. That is a blessing. Better yet, you are a blessing. You may not realize it but your time is coming. Whatever happens, show up and serve.

As A Mother…

In light of recent events, I’ve decided to not post my original blog and write this one instead. This may come off as a rant or maybe it will sound too naive but I feel the need to get this off of my chest. I hope this resonates with you and if it does, please comment below.

Here in Canada, it seems like we have it together. You won’t see much in the news regarding racism. In fact, if anything the racist stuff usually comes from the United States. Often, by the time we see it there is this underlying understanding that no matter how bad racism is here it’s not as bad as it is in the USA. Unfortunately, this false narrative has allowed for many ethnic groups to be denied the ability to speak on issues that not only affect our livelihood but our lives.

I am a mother to two girls and am currently pregnant with another. Pregnancy is not a joke. What’s worse is being dismissed by health care professionals when you bring up a symptoms or concerns. I don’t have all the answers so when I put my trust in the hands of the labour and delivery team, I expect them to followed through with professionalism and due diligence. I don’t expect to be gaslit, dismissed or forgotten. Having a child should be a joyous occasion not a reason for fear.

It’s bad enough that as a Black woman there’s always this thought in the back of my head that all it takes is for my family to be at the wrong place at the wrong for my world to fall apart. My husband goes to work each day and I know that God forbid, he meets someone who’s having “a bad day” not only could his life be endanger but more than likely, as Black people we may never see justice prevail.

It’s hard to be hopeful in a world where injustice seems to be the outcome in every situation where white supremacy has a chance to rule. Lady justice is supposed to be unbiased and colourblind in a world where all men are created equal. Yet, nothing has changed to restore faith in those we’ve elected as officials to render true and effective justice. Something as simple as holding murderers accountable once proven guilty is as laughable as a comedic skit. It’s gut wrenching watching another murdered Black man calling his mother just so she could hear his final breath.

How do I explain to my children that we are living in a world that will never see them as equals no matter how nice, how tough, how qualified, how assertive, how feminine or gracious they are? How do I tell them that this is what we as their parents settled for on their behalf? How do I tell my children that the melanin in their skin is a perpetual target on their backs? How do I tell my daughters that they will be sexualized and demonized because they are Black women? That they must maintain their “niceness” and “kindness” when the micro agressions come if they want to keep their jobs? If I give birth to a son, what then? The fact that he’s Black automatically makes him looks like any other “alleged suspect” if law say so.

Yet, through my faith I have learned to be hopeful when it’s darkest. I won’t lie it sure feels dark. We’re in the middle of pandemic. Ontario is in the midst of its third lockdown. I don’t know what my delivery plan will look like when I give birth. I’m afraid. I’m afraid for my kids and my unborn child. I know that my kids will be safe but I won’t be with them. This will be the first time since I’ve had them that they won’t be with either my husband and myself, and I’m scared.

These are the moments that nobody warned me about. Nobody told me how scary motherhood could be. Nobody told me how terrifying being a Black mother could be. I’m afraid for their present and their future. I know how the system works and that’s why I get up every day and work my butt off.

I want them to know the privilege of living. I want to know that they are safe. I want them to believe that they can be anything they want to be. There’s no limit, no matter how hard the media tries to sell this fear, they need to know that it’s not true.

I don’t do it for myself. I do it for them.

Eczema skin relief toddler edition

Hi there! I want to start off by saying thank you so very much for joining me here. I know that you could be doing anything and you are here. I appreciate that a lot. Just to let you know that this post may contain affiliates links. If you want to support me as a content creator, by all means purchase through the links provided in the post. You will never pay more, but you may save some money. At the same time, I will get a small commission. It’s a win-win for us both.

When my eldest daughter turned 1 year old, I started to notice a rash developing in the back of her knees going upwards toward in backside. So I did what any mother would do and turned to Google. Of course, after many blood pressure raising self diagnosis, I knew the right thing to do was to see what the doctor had to say. She reassured me that it was eczema and it was common and nothing to worry to about. Which is easier said then done when you’re watching your baby scratch herself to the point of bleeding.

Sometimes a headband is all you need. If your little is really against getting her hair done, a nice accent will do the trick. Here Mercy is wearing a white stretchy netted wide headband with a white blooming flower to the side.

Her symptoms were pretty standard. Her skin gets dry every winter and I mean really dry to the point that her skin gets really rough. She starts scratching like crazy and the rash appears. We got a prescribed ointment for the rash but unfortunately it doesn’t take away from the dry skin and itch.

After many attempts at find a treatment that works, I finally turned to Instagram to get some help from the mom community and they did not fail me. Some of the ideas shared with me I had already tried, some I did not and the ones that worked for my girl I still do now.

My main concern was getting her skin to behave like her skin should. For those of you who don’t know eczema is also know as atopic dermatitis. It is a condition that makes your skin red and itchy. It is thought to be due to a “leaky” skin barrier, where the skin is not holding in the moisture as it should causing it to be dry in the process. It’s also thought to be a immune system response to an allergy. Of course, you should seek a medical professional for a proper diagnosis.

The most common response I received was the Aveeno Eczema Care Itch Relief Balm. I purchased the Aveeno cream from Amazon because it was the most convenient way to get it. I’d rather have it shipped to my house than to dress the whole family to go outside in the dead of winter. The balm is quite thick but applies nicely. It doesn’t linger on the body as much either. I find that it’s best for us to use it at night right she’s had her bath. It’s fragrance free, so that’s a bonus.

I also received SKN Moisture Retention Healing Face + Body Bar which I use on her body nightly during bathtime. This company is Black owned which is why I’m so hype about them. They are based in the United States but they do ship to Canada. I was overcome with their generosity and couldn’t wait to try their bar. The bar foams really easily and smells amazing. It’s the perfect way to calm my daughter. According to the site “This bar helps to treat eczema, psoriasis, dermatitis, and dry skin. It is infused with 5% Colloidal Oatmeal which is also an all-natural skin-soothing solution for bug bites, sunburns, poison ivy, and other itch and inflamed skin conditions. This bar is also infused with Eucalyptus oil that is great for wounds and skin infections; thanks to its anti-inflammatory effects” and I cosign this. I highly recommend anyone needing an alternative to commercial based soaps to check them out.

The results were night and day. Her skin felt like skin again and you would never know she had been scratching herself if it wasn’t for the scars. I was so impressed by both products. Her skin was once again soft. She doesn’t scratch anymore and my girl is no longer bothered by itchy skin. I’m a happy mom!

Have you dealt with eczema? What have you used?

Post Holiday Struggle

Hi there! Happy New Year! I want to start off by saying thank you so very much for joining me here. I know that you could be doing anything and you are here. I appreciate that a lot. Just to let you know that this post may contain affiliates links. If you want to support me as a content creator, by all means purchase through the links provided in the post. You will never pay more, but you may save some money. At the same time, I will get a small commission. It’s a win-win for us both.

It’s been a while since I’ve been on here. After completing the #nablopomo challenge I tried to enter the #vlogmas challenge over on my youtube channel and I was completely burnt out. Turns out it’s easier for me to blog then it is for me to vlog. Or maybe I just wasn’t prepared. I knew however that I wanted to jump on here and get back to some sense of normalcy in my safe space. But it hasn’t been easy.

In fact, this holiday was just really tiring for me. There was so much I was trying to accomplish by the end of the year all the while still wanting to be present. At one point I just had to shut everything down. I knew the end result would be catastrophic. Now I’m just struggling to get into the momentum of work, despite being in yet another lockdown. It can be really frustrating trying to salvation a bit of excitement for the upcoming year when all I see isn’t too uplifting. I figured now would be the best time to start implementing the lessons I’ve learned in 2020.

  1. Never stop investing in yourself; Honestly the best money spent has been on myself and I’m not talking about splurging on the latest trending items, I mean really making an investment in yourself. There’s something about putting your faith (or money) on your dreams and your passions. You almost never lose out on that investment. There’s always a reward in the end.
  2. Kindness is KING! Being kind is free and really easy to put into practice. It doesn’t mean that you let people walk all over you it just means that you are intentionally and proactively seeking to change the world positively. Your presence is influential in the way this society will end up for our future. Let’s do our part and be kind. Also kindness will get you into places that talent and work ethic never could.
  3. Boundaries are meant to be enforced- This year really taught me to enforce boundaries with people. Growing up I was often placed in a position where I was easily overlooked, gaslit and ignored. As a mother, to two young girls you better believe that this is not something I intend to pass on to my girls. Not everyone I know is meant to travel with me. Not everyone I have met is going to be helpful on my journey, and if they cause me more harm than good, then it’s time for us part ways. It doesn’t need to be hostile but it does need to be enforced
  4. I don’t know everything- I’m no expert. No matter how big I get I will always need to learn something new. Every step I take will require me to level up in my learning. One of the best apps I have been leaning on is Clubhouse to just learn.
  5. Be Yourself- This is cliche but it needs to be said. Your greatest superpower is the ability to be YOU. Not one person can do what you do and tell your story the way you do. Use that to your advantage.

I really hope this year brings you everything you desire. I think this year will be the reset that we need this year!

What have you learned in 2020 that you will be implementing this year?

Why Johnsons Cottontouch Baby Lotion Is My Bedtime Secret Weapon

Hi there! Thank you so much for checking out my blog today. I really appreciate your support and believe me, I am really grateful you took the time out to read this blog. Some of the products displayed on this blog have been gifted to me and this post may contain affiliate. If you choose to buy from these links you won’t pay extra, you fact you may even save money. I’ll get a commission which will keep this blog going. However, all opinions expressed are completely my own.

By now you’ve heard of the Johnson’s Cottontouch baby lotion which was a part of their massive rebranding launch back in 2018. If you’re a mother to a baby or a toddler, then I’m sure you’ve heard of this lotion unless you’ve been living under a rock. This lotion is designed and formulated with newborns in mind. This is great for their sensitive skin. This newborn face and body lotion is extremely light, has a very thin consistency, almost milk-like. It absorbs extremely quickly into the skin and provides 24 hours worth of moisture.

The whole idea behind Cottontouch is that from the moment they are born, you can from that connection with your new babythrough touch. Touch is so important as it is one of the most powerful way to form that bond.

However I didn’t realize how much I would love this lotion for not just my baby but for both of my girls. Aside from the fast absorption and it’s ability to provide moisture without causing my girls’ skin to have a reaction, the fragrance is what makes this lotion so worthwhile. It’s also the reason why a year later after the birth of my baby, I am still using this lotion on her.

The lotion smells like cotton and it is so soothing. When I get my girls ready for bed the most important thing is to avoid anything that can stimulate them. I’m trying to avoid stimulation because by the time bedtime rolls around this mama is tired. I need to wind down myself.

Since the first time I’ve used this on my girls, the smells instantly lifts my mood. It’s therapeutic in a way. I apply it to their body and I see them smile because we’re usually talking about the day and I’m doing a silly face. It is a part of our bedtime routine.

I love that it doesn’t leave my hands sticky or heavy. It doesn’t matter how many pumps for lotion I use my baby’s skin is soft and moisturized and so is my hands. It’s perfect all season long.

Is there a bedtime staple that you can’t go without? Let me know in the comments.



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Being A Black Mother in 2020

Hi there! Thank you so much for checking out my blog. Your support is greatly appreciated and believe me I do not take it for granted. This post does contain product that I’ve received for free but it does not change how I feel about them. All opinions expressed are simply and honestly my own.

I was once asked to write about what it’s like being a Black mom. At first, I wasn’t ready to dismiss this as a topic because I just didn’t want to face these issues, in all honesty. I thought no one would care about what I had to say on the matter.

But the more I thought about it, the more I realized that my experience as a Black mother actually differs quite drastically, especially when compared to my Caucasian counterparts. As a Black mom, a first generation Haitian, living in a Eurocentric based society built off of systemic racism, there are just certain things that Black moms have to do differently or approach differently for the well-being of their children.

Disclaimer: This is not an anti-white blog posts, I am just listing my experiences as a Black. I would like to add that I am very proud of being a woman, being Black and being a mother. I wouldn’t change any of this for anything in the world.

For starters, here a list of things I heard growing up. Usually, these would be a series of conversation starters that would be followed by a lecture or a series of instruction.

  1. “You have to work twice as hard to make it in the world…”
  2. “If the police approach you…”
  3. “Some people won’t like you because of the colour of your skin…”
  4. “Your body is perfect just the way it is…”
  5. “Driving While Black”
  6. “You are not allowed to be angry”
  7. “No matter how successful, you will be seen as a threat…”
  8. “Black fathers do exists…”
  9. “Be careful if you speak out, you will be seen as aggressive…”
  10. “Not all of your Caucasian friends are anti-racist…”

These are moments that I have experienced that I know I will have to prepare my children for. There will always be a reason for people to be evil. I do believe in a better tomorrow. I am hopeful but I am also very cautious. After all, I am a Black mom.

Most mothers that I know, are naturally protective of their young. It’s instinct. It’s primal. It’s biological. Often times, as moms, we do everything we can to ensure that our children are well cared for and have all the tools necessary to thrive in this world. Unfortunately, for us BIPOC it involves having the race talk way younger than we would. It means having to explain to them that no matter how nice, polite or pleasant they are they will be seen as a threat. Especially, if they are males.

I don’t want to be that helicopter parent that is constantly hovering her children. But based on the media coverage of the brutalization and blatant murder of our own, I am becoming more and more skeptical. Things are starting to make sense and I am becoming aware that as adults we have a choice to make. At times, speaking up in the workplace as a BIPOC is seen as being hostile and creating a toxic work environment.

I can remember the countless times that my body was sexualized before I even knew what that meant. If I was picked on I had to just deal with it, because being called a racial slur was “kids being kids”. My hair had to be “presentable”. The police isn’t our “friend” and it’s better just to avoid them all together. Being gaslighted is a normality that I didn’t realize was abnormal until recently.

This is NOT the world I want my kids to grow up in.

They deserve better. So much better. That is why I’ve decided to become a stay at home mom. I wanted to teach them my way. I wanted my daughters to have the space to be exactly who they are meant to be. They can be fearless leaders and speak their minds with respect and understanding. They are safe at home to be themselves and not just another minority.

They can learn their history as it was and not the white washed or nitpicked version of whatever the world says it is. Furthermore if we don’t know where we’ve been, we won’t know where we’re going.

I truly believe that if I want to see the change, then change must start at home. In short, being a Black mom is like being a mom. A mom who is a Black woman who has faced prejudice at school and in the workplace. A mom who has experienced hate before she could even introduce herself. A mom who’s had to bite her tongue to preserve her child’s innocence. A mom who’s tired of seeing another hashtag pop up on her timeline, knowing that one day in the near future I will have to explain what those names mean. A mom, who’s had to accept disrespect from others to avoid creating a “toxic” work environment or to keep her job. A mom who’s been told to go back where she came from, got slapped in the face and that day was ready to lose her job. I know I will have those conversations with my girls. What will I tell them? I don’t know.

That’s my experience as a Black mom.



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Surviving Homeschool…the First Week

Hi there! Thank you so much for checking out my blog today. I really appreciate your support and believe me, I am really grateful you took the time out to read this blog. Some of the products displayed on this blog have been gifted to me and this post may contain affiliate. If you choose to buy from these links you won’t pay extra, you fact you may even save money. I’ll get a commission which will keep this blog going. However, all opinions expressed are completely my own.

Like most families, it was the beginning of school in my house. Unlike most families, I started school with my three year old daughter. I knew that I wanted to homeschool from the moment she was born. Throughout the years, I saw my little one become a sponge when it came to retaining information. By the time, she was a year old she knew that if she yelled at me she had my attention. By 18 months old, she could say her body parts. By, 2 she was potty trained and knew her alphabets, could make the phonetic sounds they produced and could count to ten and hold a conversation. Everywhere, we went people were amazed at how much she knew and could express. I wish I could take all the credit but between Cocomelon, Super Simple Songs, The Backyardigans, Alphablocks and pretty much whatever I could find on YouTube to keep her occupied when I needed a moment, she turned out all right. So I thought, why not further feed her thirst for knowledge and start homeschooling her now?

I wish I had known what I was in for.

As you know, it’s only been a week but I just want to say for the record PAY THESE TEACHERS WHAT THEY ARE WORTH!!!

We started our sessions, the Tuesday morning after Labour Day, I wanted us to have a full “school in session” kind of vibe. In all honesty, all she saw was a colourful notebook, some crayons and an overly excited mom…it was probably the coffee mixed with the nerves. I thought it’d be best to start with some alphabet tracing. Since she knew her alphabets it wouldn’t be hard to make that connection, right? My daughter is a genius who is capable of mastering all information within a matter of minutes, right?Wrong!

I don’t know what I was thinking placing such high expectations on my three year old daughter. I will spare you the nightmare. Let’s just say, my once energetic child who would rather do anything than take a nap was actually looking forward to taking a nap. She hated it every minute of alphabet tracing. I was getting frustrated because she wasn’t doing it “right” and she was frustrated and began to shut down. Then I felt like a jerk but I just wanted her to get it right…it was a nightmare. Looking back on it, I really screwed up her first two days and I wasn’t feeling confident in my ability to teach my daughter anything at this point. I just felt like a bum. In a few minutes, I sucked the excitement out of learning.

So I had a teacher’s meeting with myself. The first one of the year. I decided to set some rules that I had to abide by. I knew that if I could do that, we both would be better off. The goal isn’t just to get her to learn but to inspire to enjoy learning. What’s the point of learning at home if it sucks? I knew that I had to learn the way to teach her. She doesn’t learn like me, so to expect that out of a toddler who loves to have fun is ridiculous. I mean we only look alike, aside from that we are two very completely different beings. I wrote down the rules and here they are.

  1. Keep each lesson at a maximum of 10 minutes
  2. Once she’s done, move on. Come back to it, tomorrow
  3. Learn her “learning style”. Turns out, she loves to colour! Use that.
  4. Positive affirmation is key
  5. Let her lead.

I’ve been doing this ever since. Would you believe that we’ve been able to get through every lesson? She’s been learning how to write the alphabets a lot more quickly as well as the numbers. We’ve been able to even do some math problems, which is her favourite subject. I think it’s mostly because she gets to colour.

We’ve even added some flash cards into the mix to help her get more familiar with sight words. She absolutely loves the flash cards. Everyday we start our lesson with the flash cards. I usually do a game of sorts with her and the best part of it is, I see the spark return as she is soaking all this information.

On most nights, it’s not uncommon to see my three year old show her father what new word she’s learned, or what sight word she can now write on her own. She loves hearing his praises of her smart she is. At times, she will even pretend that she’s a teacher. It’s really an awesome feeling to know that I can impact my daughter in a way that will ultimately set her for success.

So to all the parents out there, I’m super proud of you for the job you are doing. This year has been challenging and whether you are sending your kids back to school or keeping them at home, I just want you to know that I see you and that I appreciate you doing what’s best for your family. We’re all in this together!

DIY Bath time PlayDough

Hey there! Thank you so much for checking my blog. Your support and your attention is greatly appreciated. Just so you know, this post is not sponsored in any way and all opinions expressed are strictly my own.
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Bath Time Chronicles

In our household, bath time can be a very situation. That’s because my daughter knows that bath time leads to bedtime and bedtime…well bedtime is the opposite of fun. 

Ever since the parks were shut down, my daughter’s main source of fun has been confined to indoors. I had to since, appeal to her creative and boy does she have one. Recently my husband bought playdough but that dried out so, she’s been bored ever since. She always asks for it so I took matters into my own hands. 

PlayDough Search

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I knew that many other moms were far more creative than me and if I could alleviate my daughter’s creative itch than I would do it. After searching on Pinterest for DIY playdough, I found this super easy DIY playdough that my kid could use in her bath. 

Using the DIY Playdough Soap Recipe from Parenting Chaos, I found it super easy to follow. The best part is that there is room for error. You don’t need to worry about ruining a batch or losing a batch. The best part is that the recipe allows for a big batch to be made so you can store some for a later use. 

The Verdict

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Based on that smile you can see that she absolutely loves her playdough. She gets to roll it, pat it, fold and mold it according to her liking. She loves playing with it at the kitchen table while watching her YouTube videos. Every once in a while I am forced to pretend eat a slice of pink “cake” or a pink and red “hamburger”. 

What she loves most is that she can play with it in the bath tub. Eventually, the playdough falls apart in the tub as it foams up but it still retain it’s playdough texture. It foams up when introduced to water. 

Final Thoughts