Norah June, A Birth Story

On my flight home from NYC last October, I started writing a poem. My world was still shaky with Bri's death and my unexpected pregnancy, but I was desperate to find solid ground and to make peace with my body and my grief. So I wrote this poem, more out of awe that I could create life at a time when I felt so empty and depleted, but also out of longing to connect to a baby who I couldn't imagine as a part of my life, let alone my body.


Life created in the barren places
is green and fierce despite the howling wind,
harsh as it crawls begging through the canyons of my body.

You came to light in a desert place,
a landscape marked by uncertainty and distance.
And you brought with you
bones and stones and endless sky --
water enough to swell and stretch.

When the earth cries for relief from its sanctification,
will the skies answer
with a crash of light, a gathering darkness,
heat that writhes in red rising flood?

Flesh on flesh
skull to pelvis
When the pounding ceases
and the horizon clears,
will we be blossoming with life,
Or will we be drowned?

It's strange to read now, to share it now, knowing what happened in the weeks and months that followed. The clubfoot diagnosis. Sela's diabetes diagnosis. Feeling like my entire life had fallen apart and I was grasping at loose threads, desperately trying to hold my old, familiar life together, and left kneeling, empty-handed.

It's so difficult to write about the darkest period of my life, to fight the instinct to brush it aside, smile, and tell you how happy we are to have Norah here, how Sela is thriving, how everything is wonderful and perfect and pretty. I like to tell happy stories and share beautiful things. I like when things work out. I like my life to be neat and tidy and comfortable for everyone, or to at least seem that way when it's not. 

It's not easy or comfortable to tell you that I know what it's like to cry every day for an entire year, to feel grief, disappointment, and fear closing in at every turn, and to lay in bed every morning holding my breath and praying that Sela will wake up too. I know what it's like to wonder if I'll love and celebrate a child born with clubfeet, to face deformity without embarrassment, anger, or shame. I know what it's like to go to a therapist every week for months because I needed someone to sit with me while I cried for hours and allow me to empty the ugliness and smallness and pettiness from the darkest parts of myself.

Norah's birth story isn't an easy one to tell, even if the actual birth is a pretty straightforward, uncomplicated one. The experiences of the months, weeks, and even hours leading up to her birth are inseparable from this story, our shared story, and I can't explain the joy and awe without showing you the pain and heartache in equal measure.

oliver + s little things to sew

Just so you know we aren't all club feet and type 1 diabetes up in here, I thought I'd better share some of the sewing projects I've been working on. In fact, I'd say we're way more ninja/She-Ra/paleontologist/ballerina/LEGO mania than anything else these days, but you'd never gather that from all of the sad poetry and difficult personal stories I've been sharing lately. Life is good. My kids are happy. And apart from a mad case of cabin fever caused by back-to-back viruses, we are all doing just fine.

 I've been doing quite a bit of sewing from Oliver + S Little Things to Sew, and I love both patterns I've tried so far. Graham went through this crazy pocket phase right before Christmas, where every single day he had to wear a pocket shirt AND pocket pants, and all said pockets were filled with various cars and keys and coins. So for Christmas I made the Explorer Vest, equipped with five big pockets - plenty of room for all of his treasures. Unfortunately, all of his phases of intense interest change and fade quickly, and I had to bribe him with a small handful of Cadbury Mini Eggs just to put it on today. You win some, you lose some, I guess. :)

The second project I tried is the art smock, and it came together really quickly, plus I learned all about French seams and a new, cleaner-looking way to do pockets. Sela looks really cute when she wears it, and I love that it has long sleeves and velcro closure. It keeps her arms from getting smeared in paint, and she can put it on and take it off on her own!

I'm anxious to try my hand at the mini-messenger bag for Sela's big kindergarten debut this fall, and the little aprons and cozy winter hoods are so sweet. I've also had my eye on Anna Maria's Handmade Beginnings, mainly because I love the reversible pants SouleMama has made in multiples over the years.

a mama's heart

I read this amazing story almost two years ago and was touched by Kelle's raw, honest voice and the beautiful photographs of this life-changing moment. Her experience is all about grief and families and numbness and mostly love and facing a new, different kind of life than the one she imagined; it is a story of true human experience.  Kelle's story broke my heart in all the right ways, if that makes any sense. It opened my eyes and heart to the strength of women and mothers everywhere, and it showed me how truly beautiful people are made.

This morning I was happy to read her post about little Nella's second birthday and about the people they are today. I needed to be reminded that chaos, fear, uncertainty, and pain are only temporary, fleeting states of being, and that love, courage, families, and truth stay always, sustaining us while we learn to change and accept a bigger and more meaningful version of ourselves.

Kelle also shared this quote that made my heart catch in my throat:

"Awareness born of love is the only force that can bring healing and renewal. Out of our love for another person, we become more willing to let our old identities wither and fall away, and enter a dark night of the soul, so that we may stand naked once more in the presence of the great mystery that lies at the core of our being. This is how love ripens us -by warming us from within, inspiring us to break out of our shell, and lighting our way through the dark passage to new birth."

-John Welwood

Thank you for all of your kind comments and messages during the past few weeks. I can't express to you how important it is to feel connected and supported and heard while sorting out and moving forward with our "new normal". Thank you for allowing me to feel all of those things. XO

graham is two

Graham turned two a few weeks ago, and we had such a great time celebrating with our family and friends. We met at a neighborhood park with tall shady trees, long grass, and a sweet river that runs right through. It was a fun little party with a table full of all Graham's favorites: Chocolate cake with meringue mushrooms (which I made while thinking of Miss Tess and her baby belly), Dunford donuts, buckets of various woodland/bear themed gummies and snacks, plenty of fruit, excellent cheese, and root beer floats. It was a beautiful evening full of all the people we love most chatting on picnic blankets, chasing after sweaty kids, and laughing late into the night.

Oh, what can I tell you about Graham?  He's hilarious and sweet, and always has the best jokes, even if they are usually full of naughty words. He spends most of his time running around our backyard completely naked, playing in the hose and stomping through the sprinklers. He is currently trying to learn how to play his guitar behind his head and balance a spoon on his nose. He loves to sing, dance, and tell ridiculous stories about snakes, spiders, and dinosaurs eating him all up.

He loves big hugs and even bigger kisses, cuddling ALL NIGHT LONG, and whispering funny (and soggy!) secrets in my ear. He's gentle, curious, and easy to please.

He's baby Graham, and he's magic.

The recipe for the yummy mushrooms is found here, and these genius invites by Anna Bond would have perfectly complimented our party theme had they arrived in time. Confusing text messages and hurried emails work well in a pinch though, right?

summertime in the city

We're soaking up our fair share of sunshine around here. Plenty of picnics, bathing suits, dear friends, and evenings spent exploring our favorite parks.

I really love Salt Lake City in the summertime.

going west

I am a woman born of the West; a Robert Redford kind of girl, if that means anything to you. As a product of pioneers driven by visions, men who wandered deserts at dawn, and unlucky miners and the women who followed them, I understand the visceral language of red rock, mountain ranges, and coastal highways. I seek comfort in space and distance, healing in the wild places of the West.

-An excerpt from my notebook written as we drove across the vast Salt Flats.

Brian and I were able to slip away for a week at the beginning of June to celebrate our anniversary and to catch a bit of rest and healing. We decided on California's central coast: Carmel, Big Sur, and a day trip in San Fransisco.

Carmel is beautiful, walkable, and quiet. We spent days just wandering around the charming neighborhoods, holding hands and talking about what we hoped our future would hold (Brian: registering a personal Scottish coat of arms and an office/library space of his very own. Me: becoming a lady farmer midwife chef who writes about women and travels the world). We spent our evenings searching tide pools and people watching, and then would eventually end up at Dametra Cafe, tucked into a cozy, dark corner surrounded by Italian families and Brazilian women. The food was beautiful, and the owners are warm, generous people. There was a lot of kissing and general all-over touching at the end of each meal, which I loved and Brian tried to politely avoid. What can I say? That boy just doesn't appreciate a good rub down by strange dudes with long, curly hair. I, on the other hand love watching him squirm and always enjoy a good hug and smooch from gorgeous strangers.

We spent a lot of  time wandering in and out of shops and art galleries, gathering gifts for the children and admiring the unique architecture of this coastal town. We rode the trolley, enjoyed picnics in the park, and took afternoon naps. It was just so good to be together, to laugh and joke and love each other.

My favorite part of our trip was Big Sur. It has this crazy, dark energy that I've only ever felt in the sleepy fishing villages of Mexico. It is a place for visionaries and poets. It is a place of deep emotion and contradiction:

ancient redwoods. cacti. rivers. ferns. soft beaches. cliffs. hidden canyons. 

It is the perfect balance of dark and light, of beauty and brutality. It was here that I found healing.

summer is good for me

face paint. cherries. swimming suits. strawberry summer cake. fishing. sprinklers. garden roses. big plans. breakfast on the porch. muddy feet. road trip. little brown faces. snow cones. farmer's market picnic. talking things out. bird watching. a special birth party for a special mama-to-be. playing in the hose. endless questions about the habits of fairies. a visit to the sea. fresh herbs on everything. a weekend with the cousins. water guns. chasing kitties. new books and ideas. sweaty bouquets of wildflowers from quick little hands. long walks. garden planted and (miraculously!) growing.

movement. light. warmth. healing.


Photo Credit : SignePling

sela's envelopes

I was looking through some photos last night getting ready for a new project, and I came across these photos and realized I never shared them when I did the big rainbow party post. I think this is my favorite detail of Sela's birthday party, and I'm so glad I took a picture before addressing the envelopes and sending them out. I want to always remember Sela's sweet, wonky lettering and the true inspiration behind the whole party theme - her funny little rainbow drawings that fill all of her artwork these days.

four

There is something about four that is a bit harder to welcome than three. Maybe it has to do with the fact that there isn't even a whisper of her small baby self left in her now tall, thin body. The dimples on the backs of her hands have vanished, as have the bathing suits with ruffles on the bum and afternoon naps. With four comes underwear with the days of the week printed on the back, dreams of finally turning FIVE and kindergarten next fall, worries that Graham will somehow figure out a way to be older than her someday ("He is pretty sneaky, mom." She tells me when I tuck her in almost every night), and questions about whether or not I'll still be her mom when she has babies of her own.

"Will you be really super old when you're a grandma?"

"Does everyone die someday? Even me? I'll be really old and you'll be really old, right?"

"Mom, why do some people have to sleep under benches?"

"Geez, I wish everything I touched turned into doughnuts!"

"Dad! Dad! Look how pretty I am!"

Oh, four. I sure hope you're gentle with this mama heart of mine. Your questions are already a little harder to answer, the days seem to be passing a little faster than before, and I'm worried that I'll blink and you'll have come and gone forever.

Can I tell you what I love most about my shiny new 4 year old? It also happens to be the thing that drives me absolutely crazy, too (that's always how it happens, right?).

There is now halfway with this girl. 

No neutral ground, ever.

It's either wrong or right.

Black or white.

She's either in, or she's out.

She's either happy, or she's not.

She either loves you, or she doesn't.

But if she loves you? Man, she loves you. She will paint pictures of your cats and mail them the very same day. She'll call you as soon as she wakes up to talk about your favorite color. She will learn to write your name and will always include you in her prayers. She will hug you tight and kiss you on the mouth as you walk out the door. And she will never ever hesitate to forgive you if you've failed her in some way.

She loves you all the way, in and around and through everything you are, no matter what, no questions asked.

She's a pretty remarkable, totally ordinary miracle. She's bossy, stubborn, and completely maddening at times, but she's changed my life and changed my heart, both for the better.  And you know what? Not a day passes that I don't think how lucky I am to know her, to love her.

Happy Birthday, Sela!

I love you to the moony moon moon.

how are you, friends? well, i hope. things around my house have been CRAZY for the past month, but i hope to be sharing more regularly soon. have a great day, okay? XOXO

12 things we love about you : a project

A few weeks ago Brian and I were talking and laughing about all of the crazy things our kids have been saying and doing lately. It seems that cabin fever hit us especially hard this year and to fight the boredom Sela and Graham have been bouncing off of the walls as they play intricate games involving pillow nests, baby chicken-dinosaurs, various forms of midwife/mama-to-be (Graham is always on the verge of giving birth, in case you are wondering), so many costume changes, and endless chattering.

I've been trying to record all of the hilarious things they do and say in my journal, but what I  really wanted  to do was find a way to pinpoint this exact moment in time. A time when Graham is talking more and more, Sela is growing and learning so quickly, and they are starting to really play together, to rely on each other for entertainment and friendship.

So I decided to put together a little book of sorts, full of recent photos and of things we love about them right now, including funny things they've done in the past few weeks or small moments we want to always remember. I asked the grandparents and Sela and Graham's little cousins what they loved most about them too, and I printed all of the sweet messages on 4x6 cards and loaded them into Noci albums in red from Kolo.

They turned out better than I could have hoped. I got a little teary as I read the small things our parents notice and love about our children, and I laughed out loud when I read the responses from their three year-old cousin, Abby. It's so sweet knowing that my children are cherished and loved by so many wonderful people, and I'm also glad to have a small reminder of this happy, crazy time in our lives tucked into these simple books.

Hope you have a Happy Valentine's Day, friends! XO

handmade valentine's day cards

For our valentines this year I knew I wanted to do two things, first on the list: pretty lined envelopes. I have always loved the look of envelope liners, but I have never attempted them before because I thought they would be too time consuming or difficult. But then I found this happy floral paper (the design kind of reminds me of Anna Bond's florals for Rifle Paper Co.) and I knew I had to at least give it a try. Luckily, once you create the template (I cut mine out of an old plastic folder) the cutting, folding, and gluing go pretty quickly (especially if you have a bag of Dove's dark chocolate cherry hearts + Netflicks). I'm really happy with how they turned out and I can't wait to try these fabric-lined versions that Chelsea from {frolic!} made for Project Wedding.

The second thing I wanted an excuse to buy to try was Japanese masking tape. I can't believe I've waited so long to buy some! It's super pretty and versatile - I've already used it on a bunch of projects and can't wait to order more colors + patterns. The tape was originally going to play a bigger part in my whole valentine vision, but after finishing the card design I decided to just use a bit to secure the photo (the tape comes off easily + doesn't damage photos, so grandparents can remove + use the photo long after Valentine's Day).

I'm really excited to send these off to our friends and family (Mom, Mary, and Aunt Faye, act really surprised when these arrive on Monday, okay?) tomorrow. I love sending little messages of love to the people who do so much to make my life happy + full. I am truly a lucky girl to be surrounded by such wonderful, generous, and lovely people day in and day out.

Are you making/sending valentines this year? Do you have any special v-day plans? Brian and I are going to this awesome dinner party on Saturday night that my parents are hosting. I'm really looking forward to lots of delicious food and spending the evening with Brian sans kidlets. Yay!

home birth week : wife vs. mother: a father's perspective, by Brian Swan

I have to admit that when Rachel told me she wanted to give birth to Sela at home, I didn't know how to react. I was surprised and concerned. I had always assumed that my life would follow the television cliches of birth; packing an overnight bag, planning a route to the hospital, and rushing out the door in pajamas in the middle of the night. Giving birth anywhere else hadn't ever occurred to me, and there were a couple more people that I was pretty sure had never had that idea either: my parents.

After taking a couple of weeks to wrap my mind around the idea, I approached my parents to drop the homebirth bombshell. In retrospect I can say that I did this much too soon, because I still wasn't sure that it was the best thing for my wife and unborn child. I mentioned that we would be having the baby at home as casually as I could, hoping that it would be accepted before anyone really realized what had been said. I knew my parents had heard, though, when I saw that my mom's eyes were the size of saucers. "I don't think that's a very good idea." she said when she had had a moment to calm down.

I repeated the thing that I had been using to reassure myself, "The hospital is only two miles away."

"If you hadn't been born in a hospital, you would have died!"

I shrugged. It was all I could do. I knew I had been sick when I'd been born and I really didn't have any way to reply to that.

Never one to jump into something without testing the water, my dad asked "How do you feel about it?"

That felt less like a question and more like somebody pulling aside the curtain while I was showering - I suddenly felt very exposed and uncomfortable. Truth was, I didn't know how I felt. I wanted to be supportive but I was scared that something would go wrong and that Rachel and I would forever blame ourselves for having made a decision that led to the loss of our baby. "I don't know," I said quietly.

"I think we're talking to the wrong person, then." Mom said.

"No, let me handle it." I replied.

I left my parents' house feeling like Rachel and I were making the worst decision of our lives and wondering how and if I would be able to put my foot down and insist on a "normal" hospital birth. I thought about what they had said about me being so sick when I was born, and how terrified I was of the same thing happening to our baby. It was much later in the pregnancy that I realized that the only place I could have contracted a disease was in the hospital. I began to wish that I had waited to talk to my parents so that I could have told them that if I hadn't been born in the hospital I wouldn't have died - that I probably wouldn't have ever been sick. I wished that I had been more supportive and trusting of Rachel's decision and known that she wouldn't decide to do something that affected her and our baby without thoroughly researching it and knowing the risks.

But it was too late.

After meeting with our midwife, Diane, I felt much better about the whole idea and was ready to have a homebirth.

My mom never made it that far.

The day finally arrived that Rachel went into labor, and I was surprisingly relaxed as we started putting the plans we'd made into action; I got a bed ready for Diane, hooked a hose up to the hot water in the laundry room so that we could fill the birthing tub, and followed Rachel as she paced around the house, annoyingly offering to get her anything she needed over and over again. I called my parents to tell them that labor had started, and they called a couple of times that night for updates.

Labor took a lot longer than I had thought. I wished that I could help speed things up or at least help Rachel get some rest. I could see that Diane was beginning to worry about Sela and Rachel as she furrowed her brow each time she took Sela's heartbeat. Diane put Rachel on oxygen and said it was time to get out of the tub and start pushing. At that exact instant our front door opened and it was my turn to have saucer-sized eyes; my mom had come to end the "hippy ritual" and get her granddaughter to a hospital.

Luckily, Diane wasn't in the mood to chat and she pointed at my mom and told her that she was helping. My mom helped to support Rachel as Sela was born. She hadn't supported our decision and hadn't been invited, but I was glad she came when she did. I haven't talked to her too much about homebirth since, but I know that she was surprised to see the professional care and personal support that Diane, Briana, and Liz gave to Rachel and Sela. She stayed for an hour or two after the birth to help clean up and took a load of laundry home with her.

The time leading up to Sela's birth was surreal; on the one hand I had a strong and knowledgeable wife and her incredibly supportive family, friends, and midwife, on the other I had the friction and difficulty of winning my parents' respect and support of the decision that we'd made and of convincing myself that it was right. I couldn't have asked for a better resolution. The panic that I felt when my mom burst through our front door had been completely replaced with peace and happiness by the time she took the bundle of wet towels and rags home with her.

It may seem odd that so much of my first child's birth revolved around my mother, but at the time I felt stretched between the scientific logic of my mother and the peaceful decisiveness of my wife. I went into the experience with all of the concerns that my mom had voiced and left it knowing it was exactly what Rachel, Sela, and I needed to do.

Sela's birth did something else; it built upon the feeling of "home" that I felt in that little basement apartment. Every day I would be reminded of Rachel laboring calmly in the birthing tub, of kissing the back of Rachel's neck and whispering in her ear as she pushed, and of seeing Sela's scrunched-up face and hearing her cry for the first time. I would remember all of these things because it happened right there, in our apartment where we lived and laughed and loved every single day.

Had you told me five years ago that I would be such a staunch supporter of homebirth, I would have laughed until I turned blue. But I have since become quite the advocate of homebirth and I don't doubt that most of my coworkers and friends are tired of hearing me blather on about how much more peaceful a homebirth is than in the hospital, how it can be just as safe as a hospital birth, how I recommend they look into birthing centers if they're not sure about a birth at home, and how I push Birthing From Within like it's an old Buick and I'm a used car salesman. I am now convinced that more people need to know that the hospital isn't the only option and that they can have a safe and healthy baby in the peace and comfort of their own home.

Thank you, Brian for sharing such a sweet perspective of our shared story. I feel so lucky to have this guy as my partner in making and bringing our babies into the world. We make a pretty great team, if I do say so myself. :)

little miss midwife

As I've mentioned before (here and here), I have my babies at home. The prenatal visits with a home birth midwife can be a bit different than with an obgyn. They are often longer, more personal, not as invasive, and usually include the older siblings in the exam to help them feel part of the experience.Sela loves my midwife Briana and always looked forward to coming to my prenatal appointments when I was pregnant with baby Graham. She loved watching Bri measure my growing belly, listen to heart sounds, take my temperature + blood pressure, and fill out my chart. It was not only fun to see how interested Sela was in all of Bri's instruments, but it was important to me that she witness the knowledgeable, skilled, and tender practices of midwifery + how women support other women in birth.

For the past few months, Sela has been talking a lot about doctors and midwives and babies. Her baby dolls are usually found tucked up under her shirt covered in band aids, and we have this conversation a few times a week:

Sela: "Ummm...are you going to have a baby soon?"
Me: "Not anytime soon, lovey."
Sela: "Are you sure? Your tummy looks like..."
Me: "Don't even say it..."
Sela :"...a ball!"
Me, putting the jar of Nutella away and mumbling something about never missing a yoga class again.
Sela: " Don't worry mama, I'll be your midwife!"

So for Christmas, I put together a midwife kit for Sela (you know, just in case my ballish tummy turns out to be baby after all. JUST KIDDING.), and it was a huge hit. I'm a big believer in giving kids real tools, not plastic toy imitations, for play. I think it helps them understand better the world around them, enriches their play experiences, and makes them feel special to be trusted with important + real tools.

Here are a few things I tucked into her kit + the sources, if you are interested in making your own midwife or doctor's kit :

1. Stethoscope :: AllHeart $6 :: I loved all of of the color options.
2. Digital Thermometer :: Walmart $3
3. Measuring Tape :: Hobby Lobby $2
4. Midwife Clip :: I made it out of wool felt, embroidery thread, a clip, and hot glue
5. Penlight :: AllHeart $3
6. Reflex Hammer :: AllHeart $5 :: This isn't a tool that midwives have, but I thought it would be a fun addition.
7. Oral Syringes :: Walmart $1 :: Sela uses these to give shots. Again, not really something a midwife uses, but something Sela has a lot of questions about + has fun using on all of us.
8. Blood Pressure Cuff :: Amazon $11 :: This is a pediatric model, so it's perfect for little kids. It's fun to watch her figure out how to put it on + watch the dial as the cuff puffs up with air.

Not pictured:
Tube of "prenatal vitamins" : cherry tic tacs
Appointment cards my sister-in-law made that Sela loved so much she used them all the first day
Various wraps, gauze pads, and way too many Hello Kitty band aids.
Oh, and the box! I tried and tried to find some kind of cool, vintage doctor's bag, but ended up just buying a clear toolbox. Everything fits nicely + stays organized, plus she can actually carry it around - which is nice because most of the bags I looked at were way too big for her to carry.

Here is the label I designed for the outside of her box:

It's pretty simple, a lot of fun, and much cheaper than most of the other doctor's kits I found. Sela loves trying to find our heartbeats, peer into our ears + throats with her penlight, and measure her baby dolls.

Do your kids play doctor? Do you think it's crazy I let my almost four year old play with a real blood pressure cuff? Have you seen any cute doctor kits around?

fresh + bright

I've been doing a lot of thinking about goals and plans and years past. I'm not really one to make New Year's resolutions as I'm not really one to follow through until the Spring when my mind and body start craving change and movement and action. My winter body just wants to eat lots of Nutella and take slow, yummy yoga classes, and my winter mind tends to thrive on quiet routines and fresh air. I also tend to try to cram all sorts of new good stuff into my life, usually at the expense of all the good stuff that is already here. I'm sloooowwly  learning how to make room for the new things I want to add into my life by letting go of old habits/relationships/obligations/thought patterns that no longer serve me.

But there is something about 2011 that feels so shiny + new. Do you feel it too? I couldn't help but compile a small list of things I hope to achieve in this new year, along with the things I'm willing to let go of to make room for the good stuff. Here we go, kids...


- Create a healthier relationship with food
I want to kick the panicky, distracted 2:00ish snacking that leaves me feeling dissatisfied + headachy almost every day. I want to sit down and give my full attention to the food I'm eating + the people I'm eating with - no hurried handfuls of Swedish Fish devoured while sitting in front of my laptop and calling it lunch.

- Be more present in my relationships with my children
I waste a lot of time on the internet. There, I said it. Being home all day every day can get a little intense, especially in the long winter months, and I find myself using the internet to escape all the domestic craziness. But ignoring my kids while I check my email for the 20th time or getting lost in blogland doesn't make me feel refreshed or calm, it makes me feel detached from the real world + real people. I want to be completely unplugged until noon,  with just a strong focus on my family + the day ahead. And I want to stop the obsessive email checking (please tell me I'm not the only person who does this?!?) and limit myself to checking it three times a day. oy. This one's going to hurt, I can feel it already.

I need to learn how to be in my life; fully engaged and active instead of constantly thinking ahead, already moving on to the next item on the never ending to-do list. I can't tell you how many times a week this quote from Anna Quindlen comes to mind:

"But the biggest mistake I made is the one that most of us make while doing this. I did not live in the moment enough. This is particularly clear now that the moment is gone, captured only in photographs. There is one picture of the three of them sitting in the grass on a quilt in the shadow of the swing set on a summer day, ages 6, 4 and 1. And I wish I could remember what we ate, and what we talked about, and how they sounded, and how they looked when they slept that night. I wish I had not been in such a hurry to get on to the next thing: dinner, bath, book, bed. I wish I had treasured the doing a little more and the getting it done a little less."

I know there will be times when I can't be fully present, times when I need to step back and even step out for a while. I need to be really honest + clear with myself about when I've reached my limit and when I need extra help + support, and be wise enough to ask for it.

Childhood is too fleeting and far too important to miss because I was too busy checking my email, or worried about getting dinner on the table, or a myriad of other banal tasks that seem to fill up my day.

-Create a home that supports + nourishes my family
When my home is uncluttered, my mind is uncluttered. I want to purge our home of the things we don't need + find 2 new pieces that we absolutely love. I also want to want to clean more, if you know what I mean.

You can read a previous post about this topic here, and there are also three wonderful books that I recommend to every single person I know:


Home Is Where The Heart Is by Ilse Crawford
Sensual Home by Ilse Crawford
Apartment Therapy:  The Eight-Step Home Cure by Maxwell Gillingham-Ryan

If I know you in real life, you are welcome to borrow these from me. I'd love to share!

-Stop complaining
This post really made me stop + think about the things I say. I've started to notice all the yucky negative feelings that come from complaining, and how I never really feel better after all is said and done. I want to think about what I'm saying before I speak, and I want my words to be honest, positive, and kind.

-Read 45 books
Just because it sounds fun. And because I really like Miss Sissy Jupe.


Wow, this felt like therapy. Is anyone still reading? If so, what are you thoughts on resolutions? Did you make any this year or do they just make you feel guilty?


image via enroute to forever.

crossing things off our winter list : sugar cookies + doing something kind for someone else

We made these pretties on Tuesday night after Sela's joy school play. I love using Angie's recipe from Blonde Designs for sugar cookies - they always turn out perfect. We were planning on bringing these around to some of Sela's friends, but every time I looked at her she had a frosting knife hanging out of her mouth. I'm pretty sure there's more slobber than frosting on these bad boys :)

And speaking of the play, Sela was assigned the part of a wiseman, which resulted in a heroic + lengthy pouting fit, but when I explained she could wear the biggest, gaudiest, rainbowy-est costume, she started counting down the minutes to show time.

There is absolutely nothing sweeter than watching little kids act out the Nativity - those borrowed bathrobes, towel turbans, and much-too-big mama slips get me every single time. I sat with my heart swelling and tears welling as my wisewoman gypsy babe taught me something about wonder and excitement and awe and magic and all of the good and necessary things that make Christmas mean something.

On a completely different + hilarious note, the kids performed their play for residents of a nursing home and you should have seen how terrified they were of those old people. Sela brought a card she had made for the nicest little old grandma you've ever seen. But when that old lady reached out to give Sela a hug, I felt Sela's entire body stiffen + I was sure her eyes were going to pop right out of her pretty little head. Sela wished her a quick + trembly 'Merry Christmas' and ran straight to the door. And then this morning she made me promise not to make her hug freaky ladies she doesn't even know, crazy mom.

hope your week is treating you well, lovies. i'll be seeing you tomorrow. xoxoxo