mothers

Our mothers... what a thing to celebrate. They were there when we took our first breath, our first day of school, our first heart-break, they were biting their lips when we first started driving, they feel our disappointments with us and our smile makes their heart sing. They are those women who, for many of us are pillars of strength and the ones we have to thank for some the good we see in ourselves. Today I also send prayers up for all those women who have lost their moms or had miscarriages or who desperately want to be a mother. I say this remembering my first mothers day after losing our first child. Peace be with you on days like today.

I thought I'd share some photos, the first of which is by Elliot Erwitt who is one of my favorite photographers. I love how it captures the indescribable bond of a mother and baby. The second is by Leon Levinstein and the third by Wayne Miller.

But these are the moms that mean the most to me. The first raised the man I love and blows any negative mother-in-law stereo type out of the water. She exudes nurturing and from the first time I met her she took me under her wings like she has so many over the years.

Lastly, is my very own beautiful mother who has given more than I could express. Since I have become a mom I realize more fully just how amazing she is.

Sometimes there are days when being a mom is not all things rosy. There are days when no matter what you do, your kids just aren't happy. There are days when they fight and they go to time out for the same thing three times in a row. There are days when you are trying to teach your child to be patient and kind but you feel like being neither. Some days you're busy all day long but you can't find one thing to show for it, and you wonder why your mind can't stay in one direction for longer than ten seconds. There are days where your heart is heavy about things that you don't have time to let surface. There are days you realize that no matter how much you pour yourself out, you'll never be enough. There are days when you fantasize about having a few minutes to yourself to exercise, or go to the library, or go shopping. There are days when you vaguely remember what naps felt like. There are days when you realize you must be getting old because the stuff you used to blast from the cd player is being replaced with calming voices like Hem and Rosie Thomas because you can't handle the volume after the demands of kids all day long. On those days when the only time you're forced to be still is to nurse the one who doesn't talk or fight yet, you use those moments to cry cause you're worn out and dissappointed in yourself, but oh so thankful for grace and that you're not alone in this parenting thing.



Even on the those harder more exhausting days of parenting I'm reminded that there's no where in the world I'd rather be than with my sweet ones. In the midst of little hands always pawing at me and little voices always needing me, I rest in the joy and the blessing that they are and pray for grace to shepherd their hearts. And when her tiny hands reach up for mine I think on how rich these little people have made me and how thankful I am that one wiser and stronger than I, holds them.

for the love of the earth

...for the beauty of our home, we are thankful.

there is ease and comfort in his presence, he loves children and is a favorite friend to lots of nieces and nephews, he is really good at anticipating needs, he's a hard worker, he's analytical and challenging, he lives his faith in quiet acts of servanthood to those around him, he has deep conviction but is also gentle, he's got a big heart and a big smile, and the boy can whistle like nobody's business.




The unique thing about siblings, of which I have been blessed four times over, is that they share your history, they carry the same sorrows and memories and laugh at the same things and are moved by the same things. There is just nothing like having best friends that you've loved since day one. Happy birthday baby brother.

bleeding heart

That is the name of these stunning flowers I couldn't resist, very fitting for these little beauties. While researching how to extend their life in the garden, I discovered that they are entirely poisonous. So we will be keeping Naya far from them since she has been known to suck on a stray dandelion now and again. We've been spending lots of time outside enjoying the longer hours of sunlight and the yard that Josh has been working on. He built a wall with the help of some very kind friends) added a stone ramp and brick patio. After I just happened to mention how lovely I thought it would be to lay outside at night watching stars with an arbor full of dangling lights and flowers, he drew up a sketch and built me one.



Some things I love lately:
the smell of wet soil, perfect breezes and full blossomed trees, garden lights, and bare feet, reading books out loud with Josh,listening to Naya mimic words and animal noises and...

of course strawberries and whipped cream,(apparently enough to make ya go cross-eyed.)

slumber party

The above photo is my sweet niece Dove. Our home has been in constant motion lately as we've been having some bonding time with the girls while their folks are out of town. My kids are loving the extended slumber party. We've had dance parties, outings to the aquarium, art projects, movies and stories.









And here is the lovely miss Meadow...

beach days

Just in case you were wondering where I've been, we just got back from a wonderful week of vacation. Last week with the mini-van full of three babes,one mama, one papa, one Nana and backpacks bursting with sand toys, bathing-suits, sunscreen and books we hit the road for the Florida coast. I love that little burst of energy as the miles pass, the climate changes and the trees and flowers are different and you pass the groves of citrus trees heavy with fruit. Josh's grandma has an ocean front place there and this is the third year we have had the absolute blessing of vacationing there for free. There is something so wonderful about getting away, where the piles of bills on the desk and the clutter that makes it's home in corners doesn't taunt you while you are trying to relax. We soaked in the sunshine, played in the sand, walked and rested.

Naya was a brave little thing and could not get enough of the ocean. She would make a dash for the water every chance she got. She also loved watching the seagulls. My mom taught her to mimic their call and she does it every time she sees a bird.
My mom has a harder time getting around now than she used to, but she so wanted to get in the ocean. She doesn't let things stop her and her energy and joyful spirit far surpass any limitations.



Almost every morning I would walk on the beach in the darkness until the sun made it's grand entrance over the water bathing the day in newness. The solitude with nothing but sand and the forever ocean was a really good way to wake to the day. There is something in me I can't put my finger on that is filled, with my feet sunk deep in the cool sand, immersed in that ancient rhythm, the ebb and flow of the tides, the ocean in all it's power and mystery, rage and calm beauty all at once.


Mindful

Every day
I see or hear
something
that more or less
kills me
with delight,
that leaves me
like a needle
in a haystack
of light.
It is what I was born for-
to look ,to listen,
to lose myself
in the soft world-
to instruct myself
over and over
in joy,
and acclamation.
Nor am I talking
about the exceptional,
the fearful,the dreadful,
the very extravagant-
but the ordinary,
the common, the very drab,
the daily presentations.
Oh, good scholar,
I say to myself,
how can you help
but grow wise
with such teachings
as these-
the untrimmable light
of the world,
the ocean's shine,
the prayers that are made
out of grass?
~by Mary Oliver~

the one

I love his creativity.
I love the calluses on his hands that remind me how hard he has worked for us.
I love how he makes me laugh when I'm trying to be mad at him.
I love how he is like a big kid when he plays with our kids,
but he is firm and wise when he disciplines them.
I love how sometimes I find a jar full of gleaming Sunflowers in the house for no particular reason.
I love his absurdity because things will never be dull.
I love that he feels a pull to the woods and the mountains.
I love to take pictures of him asleep because of those rare moments of calm.
I love that he dreams big and he makes me dream big too.
I love that the longer I am with him the more I can't imagine life without him.