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.

Wednesday, February 1, 2017

well, hello there

hello, old friend.

how are you?  i hope well.

let me tell you what, i feel great right now.  i just got back from a yoga class at a new studio.  i have been in yoga limbo for a while, since my favorite teacher quit teaching...everywhere.  she didn't just leave my gym, she left teaching.  i didn't have the option to follow her to wherever she was going like a loyal little puppy.

but now, after some trial and error, i have found a yoga home.  it checks off everything my yogi heart desires.  the space is inspiring, the practice is challenging, and i leave there shiny with the sweat of my hard work and from essential oils that smell like a million hippie angels.  not the dready phish show hippie smell (trust me, phish shows have a very specific...odor) but the oily goodness smell of heaven.  not certain if that's what heaven smells like, but i sure hope it's lavender.

i crave this practice.  it's part of my new coping mechanism.
i am struggling, friends.  i worry about our current administration.  i lie in shavasana at the end of practice and try to force thoughts of trump out of my head.  ugh, he's even invading my happy space.

i get uncomfortable talking about politics.  so i typically don't on facebook.  if anyone knows me on a personal level at all, knows that i'm a bleeding heart liberal.  but i don't post about it, not because i don't feel like it's worth standing up for or being vocal about, but because i don't want to invite a debate on my page between a person i haven't seen since the tenth grade and a relative.  it makes me want to curl up in a ball and i wish i wasn't like that.  i wish i were bolder and i so admire those who are, but since i am not, i have made a gameplan of tangible things i can do to not lie awake in bed at night worrying about women, my children's numerous refugee friends from school and their precious families, that stupid wall, my homosexual friends, the future of public's just so much, y'all.

my dear friend, a trump supporter, has told me to be patient.  let's wait and see how it all shakes out, he says.  and as much as i love him and value his friendship, i can't be patient.  my feelings get hurt too easily.  hi, my name is cortney and crying is how i express emotion: anger, disappointment, joy.  see?  i am a mess!

but obama told me (and you) in his final speech, which my pastor at church also iterated in his own words at church a few weeks ago: it is easy to only surround yourself with people like you.  we can edit our social media to only see those we agree with, we can select our news sources to cater to what we want to hear.  we must resist the urge to surround ourself with the same.

so this is why i cannot quit facebook.  i helps me keep my finger on the pulse of how other people feel about issues, it keeps me informed about what is important to some and not to others, and it (frustratingly) keeps me from retreating into my comfortable little world free of conflict and difference of opinion.

i can't get comfortable.

but in order to cope, here's my plan:

1) keep it simple.  call my governor and senators and congressmen.  it's a easy, manageable task and quite honestly is the most i've participated in democracy outside of voting (thanks, trump!  haha.)

2) love my babies.  tell them everyday that they are wonderful capable human beings that are valued in the eyes of god the same as everyone else is.  i want to encourage them to be a friend to those who are different than them, to defend those who need defending, and that all families do not look just like ours....and that's a good thing.

3) look up more.  notice the sky.  life is so much bigger than me being stressed about an election outcome.

4) keep my privilege in check.  this is the first time i have ever felt like my administration has none of my best interests at heart.    here i am, alomost thirty-eight years old, feeling what some americans have felt their entire lives.  
3) go to yoga.  breathe.  work my butt off and then get my temples rubbed with oily goodness by my hippie goddess yoga instructor.
4) go to church. serve my community.  love my husband. take care of my inner circle: our friends, our neighbors, our school, our community, our city and hope that it ripples outward from there.

so although my outrage might not be loud and proud on social media, my heart is on fire.
i've got a plan.

i love you all.  i'm sorry i've been absent in this space.  
how are y'all doing?  any coping mechanisms you want to share?

i'll be back soon.
promise, promise.

p.s.  here is a book that my sister read, loved and shared with me.
these exceprts below explain why i can't blow up facebook with my convictions.  it's because i physically. can. not.

y'all i can't even watch american idol because it makes me uncomfortable.  haha!

oh, and my best friend is about to have a baby,
life is so, so good.