Monday Motivators

“We both touched wood on the cafe table and the waiter came to see what it was we wanted. But what we wanted he, nor anyone else, nor knocking on wood or on marble, as this cafe table-top was, could ever bring us. But we did not know it that night and we were very happy.” - Ernest Hemingway, A Moveable Feast

I forget what I want a lot of the time.
A feeling on the tip of my tongue of finding myself needed.
Finding myself important.
Finding myself memorable.

Stories of loss and tragedy leave me feeling useless and guilty and superficial.  In just a few words I can spiral.  

And then a few blurry Halloween pictures melt all of that needy, guilty forgetfulness away.
I am needed.
I am important.
I am memorable.

I am lucky.

Sharing these pictures and sharing my little blog is me constantly knocking on wood.  These moments, even the blurry ones, even the useless and guilty and superficial ones, ground my shaking fearful feet.

Thanks for being an audience.  Thanks for sharing blurry moments with me.

Monday Motivators

“Saturday morning was come, and all the summer world was bright and fresh, and brimming with life. There was a song in every heart; and if the heart was young, the music issued at the lips. There was cheer in every face and a spring in every step. The locust-trees were in bloom, and the fragrance of the blossoms filled the air. Cardiff Hill, beyond the village and above, it was green with vegetation, and it lay just far enough away to seem a Delectable Land, dreamy, reposeful, and inviting.”  - Mark Twain, The Adventures of Tom Sawyer

May all your adventures be dreamy, reposeful, and inviting too.  Even if it's not summer.  And even if the adventure sometimes seems rather small.

(Midweek) Motivators

I'm still playing catch up with life and therefore this blog. 
But it's better late than never to share how we celebrated our now almost 14 month old's birthday.

Monday Motivators (Back in Action)

 It sure is nice to feel super again.

 

What's motivating you this week?

Monday Motivators (on a Tuesday)

We're attempting to carry on a sense of normalcy as we are now surrounded by cardboard boxes and hopes for an easy move these next 2 weeks.  (Which may explain Miller's seventeen screaming temper tantrums last week...)

Blog postings and internet use will be light for me since I tend to get sucked down the internet rabbit hole when I'm procrastinating.  (Which is pretty much all the time...)

Until next time, I'm wishing a leisurely couple of weeks for all of us. :)

Monday Motivators

Miller's been reaching for the camera a lot lately.  Every time I bring it out to snap some pictures, his little hands pop up and he jumps at the chance to hold it on his own. 

Sometimes I have to hold myself back from cringing as he teeters the heavy camera over a slab of concrete or a bathtub.  But with a click and a giggle, I'm mesmerized by how proud he is of himself and the quiet memory he's captured.

There's a beautiful language within artistic expression.  I'm forever learning, loving, and tuning my own ear to it.  I can only hope that my little ones are listening for the same. 

It's evident from these shots, that Miller's already steps ahead of me.

Monday Motivators

Crawl, crawl, crawl, crawl, and rest.

Monday Motivators

We saw a woman washing her hair with street water today.  She sat at the edge of the grass using a cup to scoop up running water.  Over and over she poured cupfuls through her hands and down her head.  WE SAW A WOMAN WASHING HER HAIR WITH STREET WATER TODAY!

I couldn't breathe.  In slow motion my eyes strained to capture the absurdity, the sorrow of what was happening.  Typing this image now, I'm again at a loss for breath.

A roof to warm, space to spread, ground to name- it's becoming a constant challenge to keep myself from bursting into tears when I think of the enormity of what a home of our own represents.

And then at the same time, I realize it's only a house.  That roof to warm, space to spread, ground to name is simply just a house.

 
A home, our home, has been here all along.

I am blessed.
I am blessed.
I AM BLESSED!

There will never EVER be enough breath for me to come close to showing how thankful I am.

Now go breathe in your family, your friends, your home.  Because you, dear reader, are so blessed too.

Monday Motivators

Home.
We're closer to you.
A new door.

Home.
Sharing a mirror.
Filling a closet.
Peeking through your window.
Digging through your dirt.
Making noise.
Noise.
Noise.

Home.
We're knocking.
We're shouting hello!
You're about to let us in.

Home.
We're standing on your mat.
We're patiently waiting.

Monday Motivators

2 pairs of shoes
a lone bobcat
the spilled contents of a toy doctor's kit
a whistle
and 4 board books.

i'm sure they've been under the dining table for days.
i'm sure they'll stay there a few more.

we're making a mess.
again.

i could be more productive.
i couldn't be more satisfied.

Monday Motivators

At brunch on Sunday I sipped my coffee and casually glanced over to the table next to mine.  A woman held her baby close and effortlessly lifted her shirt to nurse him.  She continued her conversation with her friends while the words at my own table drifted away.  I sucked in my breath and bit my tongue to keep any tears at bay.

Ivy and I are in the process of weaning.  A decision I made and validated with my doctor to find balance in my hormones again.  Coupled with a lack of deep sleep, postpartum anxiety and compulsive thinking were loudly dominating any quiet moments I could find.  After six months of hoping I could just wish them away, I shared my fears out loud and watched them start to crumble.

Even though Ivy still nurses twice a day, looks up at me with a sweet busy grin, tugs my cheeks, lips, and shirt, I already miss it.  It's an ache I never realized would be so painful.

The fog that I felt like I've been creeping through these last six months has lifted significantly since I've started dropping feedings.  I can see blue skies again.

Nostalgia is sweet.  Healthy, connected, anxiety free quiet moments are so much sweeter. 

Maternite Henri Matisse, 1939*

Young Mother Nursing Her Child Mary Cassatt, 1906*

Motherhood August Renoir, 1886*

Maternite Pablo Picasso, 1963*

Ivy's first 

*images found via the lovely blog marvelous kiddo

Monday Motivators

i referred to myself as a "woman" this week.
after a shocking breath, i realized i wasn't afraid of it.
all of the sudden i was curled up and embraced by such a simple word.  

{something that i would have never picked out for myself, is now my new favorite top and has shifted me into realizing the "woman i want to be".  oh, clothes, you can be much more than fabric.}

I'd love to know what's surprising you this week?

Monday Motivators

Friday night I slept more than 4 hours in a row for the first time in about a year!

Lack of sleep can bring such a heaviness to my head.
It's amazing how much lighter I now feel.

Enjoy your own week.
Enjoy your own lightness.

Monday Motivators (on a Tuesday)

Another week, and another long weekend to savor.

Monday Motivators (on a Tuesday)

Wonderful wonder full eyes.

{Miller's first trip to Disneyland 5/10; Miller's second trip to Disneyland 2/12*}

What's got you mesmerized today?

*more pictures to come...

Monday Motivators (on a Tuesday)

Remember the way the wind pinched your cheeks?
A heartbeat racing down a hill?
Skin tight and flushed riding so close to the edge of all this newness?

He will remember it too.

Monday Motivators

A morning memory and a wish that they'll always be more friend than foe.

Monday Motivators

I started roller derby classes a few weeks ago.  Completely random, completely wild, and completely awesome.  Evan thinks I am nuts.  My poor swollen ass thinks I am nuts too.  I have never had more fun. 

It's been a challenge to find my balance on wheels.  My feet turn and twist and I'm lost in a battle to grab a solid step.  I fall.  A lot.  But I'm getting better. 

I feel like my life is this same battle sometimes.  That feeling of your feet slipping out from under you.  Steps taking you away from your glances ahead.  A blink and you have no idea how you got to where you are. 

Twenty three days into the new year and I'm still in denial that it's no longer summertime.  Where did the last six months go?  Don't even get me started on how the holidays flew by and I feel like I barely had time to enjoy a good cup of hot chocolate. 

I could get lost every time I fall.  Every time I feel like my days have slipped away from me.  Lose myself in self pity, shame, and jealousy while watching others gracefully speed on by.  It's a lot easier to stay down.

Or I can take a deep breath, find my stance, look ahead, push off and smile.  I seem to have some catching up to do.