Thursday, September 21, 2017


jen hatmaker speaks my language.  i read her writing, then i laugh, then i say 'yes!' or 'me too' or 'guuuuurl' out loud.  my sister lent me jen's most recent book, of mess and moxie, and i am tearing through it.  if i owned the copy, trust that i would be a highlighting fool circa my college days.  but since i'm respectful of my sister's property and also because i read in bed where there isn't a highlighter handy, i refrain (which means i will just have to buy my own copy and read it again).

there are so many gems.  but the chapter i am currently on is grabbing me by the arms and shaking me silly.  it's called 'doldrums'.

i am going to spare you details, but life is hard.  i don't know if this is what being thirty-eight is like.  maybe that's what this season of life is for all women.  but i do know is that in the past five years, my family or my friends who are like family have been hit hard with the shittiest parts of life: addiction, divorce, abuse, betrayal, illness, death, just earth-shattering, heart-breaking tragedies.

while none of this has happened in my immediate family, i have been struggling with this wicked combination of relief (that it's not us), doom (that it could be us at the drop of a hat), grief and sickening worry that makes it hard for me to go to sleep many nights. how can i help?  how did this happen?  am i supporting in the best way i can?  do i enjoy my life as much as i should?  
anxiety much? 
my brain is a hot. ass. mess.  lol.

i have a case of the doldrums.

jen says in her book:
"here is the bummer about the doldrums: the very efforts needed to lift yourself out are the same things that you've lost the energy to do.  the simplest remedies feel like weights drudged up from the bottom of the ocean".

yes! me too! guuuuuuurl.

in her podcasts, she often ends an interview by asking women, what is giving you life right now?  the answers can be simple, ridiculous or profound.

this blog gives me life.  or it used to at least.  i'm bringing it back, y'all.  somehow, someway.
while transferring all of the photos from my phone onto my computer twice (because my computer is slow and my phone is jacked) did the exact opposite of give me life (seriously, why isn't it simple?); rifling through the photos from the past few months does give me life.  so it all balanced out. 

life is hard and shitty things happen and watching people you love in pain is heart-wrenching.  but life is also so, so good.  i know that to my core.  i just need to do a better job about recognizing those good things.  so here's my effort:

things that give me life (besides mexican food and margaritas):

 {these dudes and summer and swimming}
 {this little person who asks me to take his picture then won't cooperate for said picture}
 {chance and i taught chris to take a photo from a high angle to make us look skinny.  he took it like he's standing on a damn ladder.  makes me laugh for days}
 {who knew this man would look so fine in his daddy's cowboy hat?  i do now}
 {what a total and complete boss my FIL was on our family vacation.  every day, on the beach, with his hat and walking stick.  the cutest}
 {this photo i call: dads on phones}
 {date nights and anniversaries}
 {lazy summer days with these three cousins}
 {amazon prime tv. the wire. omar. oh indeed.}
 {i mean, how can they not}
 {friends' babies}
 {the boys' school. their teachers. their new principal. our community.  sometimes i need to pinch myself}
 {substitute teaching. while kindergarten is not my favorite grade (it's like herding tiny little kittens, alllll day), it's hard to beat it when a student shows up like this ready for school}
 {live music with my people}
 {fall baseball and teachers who come to games.  on weekends, no less}
 {learning to make nan's strawberry preserves, who learned from her mother.  it was everything}
 {six months after watching this video which made me cry my face off, delivering backpacks and toiletries for foster kids in dallas.  these backpacks were the direct result of the giant hearts of people i know}
{my parents who show up. all the time.}
 {ellie's tribe}
{susnsets and frontyard football games}

i feel better already.  eff-off, doldrums.  

how are you?  what is giving you life right now?  i would love to know.


Thursday, May 25, 2017

my baby child

my baby boy is six.

and yes, i know he is not a baby anymore but DON'T RUSH ME.

when you've done this pareting thing with one child for a while, you feel prepared enough to have another.  
how different can they be, amiright?

well, nothing in this world could have prepared me for parenting this child.
he flipped life on it's lid and made each day an adventure, infinitely more fun, and had me scratching my head trying to figure out daily how to best parent his sweet spirit.
he was born with mischief in his eyes.  see?  they glimmer.

a couple of years ago he told us he wanted to grow up to be a boy cheerleader.

not long after that, he decided to become a really strong clown that jumped through hoops of fire when he got older.

around that same time, he let us know that when he was older he wanted to ride a motorcycle, get tattoos and grow a beard down to his balls.
his words, not mine.

he has a lifelong curiosity to find out what is on the inside of things.
he deconsructs objects.  cuts them open, until he can see the inside.

he loves science and art.  anything that involves paint, water, slime, glue, clay.  the messier the project, the better.

he is a collector of small things.
once he kept all of his plastic drinkable yogurt containers because he couldn't bear to throw them out.
once the collection was large enough, we had to start keeping the rinsed out bottles in target sacks.
 somewhere in our house lies his collection of cicada shells in a gallon sized zip-lock.  gross.

 he loves big and physically.  he plays rough and hugs hard.

 he is independent and fierce, yet anxious and fragile at times.  persuading him is next to impossible (taurus).

 he is ridiculously funny.  we are constantly laughing over something he said or did.

 he's a lap-sitter and a hand-holder and holds my heart with both of his.

i hope he never changes.

Thursday, April 27, 2017

first child of mine

{i am home alone.  i have plenty to do.
but instead i am dusting off the old blog and listening to this brand new cover album in preparation of seeing brandi carlisle on sunday night.}

chris and i joined a new yoga studio.  i'll blog more on that later, because it has been a game changer for us.
to give you an idea of the first child of mine, you must know that he is an early riser.  he sets an alarm for goodness sake (i mean, i do too.  difference is he doesn't hit snooze approximately one million times per morning.  but i digress.)  he likes to wake up early, veg on the couch, watch a show before the hustle and bustle of eating breakfast, getting dressed and getting out of the door for school.

two to three mornings a week, chris goes to a 6 am yoga class, arriving home in time enough to get the boys to school (it's their thing).

on those days chris is gone, my ben pours me a cup of coffee and brings it to me in bed, lays down and chats with me to get our mornings together started.  i turn my alarm off.

he is nine now.

he brings me coffee.

he lets me snuggle him and just like that my day is made.

i can't even with this child.
 he's growing up.
 just yesterday he talked to me about girls.

 he is our gentle ben.
 a baby-lover.
 a talented drummer.
 an appreciator of music and food and people and experiences.
 a friend to everyone.
 he is hestitant to try new things, he's set in his ways, he's stubborn like a bull--- but once he branches out he embraces life big.

 he is funny and gentle and emotional and passionate, oh so passionate.

nine years ago he changed our lives and has since managed to enhance the lives of everyone he meets.

this boy of mine who likes girls and brings me coffee,
has my heart.
forever and ever.