New Year Joys

Happy new year!

The last Full Moon and a brand New Year is looming, and Solstice, and the Holidays right behind me.  It's time to reflect a bit.

We had a pretty slow December, as far as meet-ups go, so we are ending with a bang -we had a full house of Mamas and Babes today, with three brand new babies, and ten kiddos running wild, ooh, what a treat.  I just love it!  I just love my circle of beautiful loving mamas and their precious super fun babes.

It's one thing I'd like to continue to build -a tribe and circle of women and mamas to grow, learn and expand with.

I am excited about the prospect of a whole brand new year ahead of me full of love and chances, growth and wisdom, sitting and running, peace and chaos.

I feel a shift in our world, full of love, and hope, where we're all thinking about what's best for us all, not just ourselves.  I believe that by taking care of our homes, we are taking care of the world.  Light your candle right here, and illuminate the whole world with love.

Last year it seems that the word of the year was discovery.  Discovery of myself, what I am capable of, and how to mother two boys, take care of everyone and myself at the same time.  I made it out alive and wits fairly intact.  Whew.

This year, 2013 it seems like the words that come to mind are trust and courage.

TRUST
...that things happen with time.
...that things are as they are meant to be.
...that I am enough.
...that they are enough.
...in myself.
...in others.
...in love.
...that I have strength and capability.
...that I can't push the river.
...that with or without a plan, it's okay.
...that my heart will guide my hands and actions.
...that what I need is right here.
...that the seasons will guide me.

COURAGE
...to be.
...to act when it's time.
...to leap.
...to fall, even without a parachute.
...to take chances.
...to learn new things.
...to step outside of the box, or at least lift up the lid.
...to get back up.
...to be still.
...to be vulnerable.
...to be who we need to be without worrying about what anyone else is doing.


I'm excited to receive my word(s) of the year necklace, hand stamped by the lovely Stacy De La Rosa of Bella Wish.

I have stepped into a circle at home with beautiful women and mothers.  I feel surrounded by love, support, and family.  I am supported by amazing women, who unconditionally love one another without judgement, who can listen, love and get it.  Women who only want the best for everyone, and themselves.

I am a part of the SouLodge community, with Pixie Campbell, and numerous other incredibly inspiring, loving women, where I can grow further as a woman, mother, artist, wild woman, and naturalist and walker of the medicine wheel.  You have four days to join me!  Come join us under the flap.

I am also in the midst of the Apothecary Circle with Laura Emily.  I am excited to learn more about holistic learning, herbs, and healing.  I will have the opportunity to become accredited in many different areas.  I'll follow my heart and see where this leads me.  Please come in, you have until the end of the year to join us.

I'm excited to also release a bit of my grip and let Z explore some more, without Mama.  I am always by his side, and of course I always will be here, but he's ready to step into a few more things, and explore himself without me always watching.  It's not easy for me, but I sense that he needs to do more away from home, and still stay at home with me.  I'm working on it.

I'm ready to jump in.

I feel the pull of the new year, and the release of the last one, and it feels good.

How about you?

Do you have a special word for 2012 and 2013?

Do you have any special plans for the next year?  I'd love to hear it.

Love, peace and light to you.

xoxo

The Hot Cocoa Incident of 2012

A friend passed down this camo outfit.  It finally fits!

Last night, Z wanted to go outside as the sun was setting, right as dinnertime was approaching, and Daddy was about to be home.  I suggested that we eat dinner, and go have a special hot cocoa night outside.  We could run around and play during the super cold dark night.  Sounds awesome, right?

He was stoked!

Dad came home, "Dad!!  It's Daddy-dude night and we're going to have hot cocoa outside!!!!"

These are the things we remember as children, the special things we do together as a family.

We ate dinner then I got our clothes ready.  Of course, even though he wanted to go out, didn't want to get dressed.  I reminded him a few times as I warmed the milk, and finally he was dressed.  Yes!

He asked which cup was his.  I asked which one he wanted.  I smiled and pointed, "That's your cup."

Our special Christmas hot cocoa mugs

The curious four-year old that he is, of course he grabbed it to look at it.  I wasn't looking, and hot cocoa went everywhere.  I guess I forgot to tell him his cup was full of cocoa.  Oops.  It splashed from his face, to his toes, into a puddle at his feet, down the counter, on the counter, and hit every dish on the way down.  Thankfully, it wasn't super hot.

He was devastated.  He was covered in cocoa, and of course thought he had lost all his cocoa to top that off.  Immediately, tears welled in his eyes, and I just saw the sadness.  I could feel my heart ache for him.  "My cocoa!!!  Now I don't have any more cocoa!!!  And it's all over me.  Aaaaaahhhhhhh!!!!"

I got down to him, "It's okay.  It's just an accident."  (A really sucky, super messy accident, but an accident)  "Take your shirt off.  Go get a new one.  I'll clean this up.  It's okay."  I smiled.  Tears continued to well up, and it just broke my heart.  He took a deep breath.

Daddy came in and witnessed the mess.  I could see the frustration.  I explained that it was an accident. He didn't want to go outside, "He doesn't even seem to want to go out.  Why are you pushing this?"

I knew he was tired and wanted to chill.  Deep breath.

"Because, he does want to go outside.  He just waiting on me to get the cocoa made, and get us ready, and then we'll go out."

He walked off to help Z find his coat, shaking his head and mumbling.  I just took a deep breath, and cleaned the mess, and it was a mess.

But that's what I do.  Mama Been: mess cleaner.

It was dang near Bodhi's bedtime by now, but he was feeling the energy and excited.

Finally, the cocoa was finished!

I snagged my coat, got Bodhi's on and we headed out.

They dashed out the door, ready to play under the stars on the wintery night.  I thought, "Bodhi doesn't even remember cold like this.  Damn, it's cold."

Bodhi was excited and ran for the bikes.  Z, my little dude with a sweet tooth, sat down for cocoa.

Itty bitty marshmallows.

Pretty tasty!

They were adorable, so bundled up, and so excited.  I took a few pictures.  I said to Daddy, "Keep an eye on Bodhi."  I went to snap a picture and BAM, Bodhi grabbed the hot cocoa and spilled it.

Both boys cried.

The crying stopped when Z realized it wasn't his cocoa, and Bodhi realized it wasn't really that scary.  Whew!  Thankfully only his hand and a small spot on his pants was wet.

It was my cocoa, of course.  That's fine.

Dad was done.  "I'm going inside."

We chalked it up to just a crazy night, and ran to swing under the stars.

We drank cocoa in the tiny house, climbed the playscape, slid a few times, went to swing on the big swing together, all cuddled and bundled up, and by then sweet Bodhi was super tired, and hands and face were so cold.

It's a funny thing about little people.  They strip their gloves, and hat, and feel the cold.  It's so new to them, even if it's a little uncomfortable, they appreciate the novelty of it.  I love seeing the world through their eyes, with their great appreciation for such small things.

We called it a night, and with the promise of heading out again in the morning, dawdled all the way to the door.

I could see the tired smile on the boys faces, and it brought a smile to my face.  We peeled off the layers, and headed up to get ready for bed.  Bodhi fell asleep first, then I headed in to read with Z.

He fell asleep a happy boy.

I've never been a fan of cold, but when there are two small boys reveling in it's joy and mystery, it makes me love it.  There are so many things I didn't appreciate, and overlooked, and made up opinions about, without ever feeling it, before I had children.

I love these boys.

They open my heart, and open my eyes, and see everything as special and something to appreciate, especially the simple stuff, and even when everything is covered in sticky hot cocoa.

Helping brother with his hat

Cooking & Baking Season

My favorite spaghetti sauce

During the summer, I must confess, I am not super inspired to cook.  Staying indoors, over a hot stove and near a hot oven, in a hot state, while just plain hot, drains me.

Plus I'm slow, and even with prep, it takes a while.  You can't rush awesome, and if it's made with love, it takes time.

Of course we also have to account for tiny hands, requests, fusses, and messes, 'cause that's how we roll with two tiny boys!

To top that off, who wants to be indoors when we can be playing in the sunshine until dang near bedtime!

Enter the Fall Equinox, and the Winter Solstice that looms ahead.

The slowing down begins.

The winds shift.

The cool Fall breezes come, we're back into the full swing of preparing, and loving hot meals and baked goodness of all kinds.  We're not just scrambling for leftovers and what I have in the freezer, or (gasp) getting something to-go.  Ahem, sometimes a little too often.

We're ready to slither indoors late in the afternoon, after we've soaked up as much radiant sunshine as our sweet faces can absorb.

Our bodies demand warmth, and hearty nourishment, three warm meals a day.  Warm breakfast and dinner are the best when the cool weather slows us down.  It fills our belly, and we relax, and release, and prepare for our slow beginning or nightly mini-hibernation.

Just like my Grandmothers' homes, ours smells like food all day.  I just love the idea of the boys living in a home where we do all the work, and they bare witness to the being a part of the mysteries of our rhythm, and preparing that which nourishes and sustains us.

So far this week, we've cooked up a rich vegetable soup, fresh veggies, put the Thanksgiving Day ham bone to good use with a huge pot of butter beans, and just finished a huge pot of beans and rice.  I'm ready to make another huge batch of spaghetti sauces -one veggie and one meaty.  Most of the pie is gone (wipes tears) so we'll be making sweet something soon.

We love it.

Warm hearty meals are so good for the soul.

What are your favorite hearty wintery meals?

How Do You Do It?

Picture is courtesy of Z's friend

As a mother of two small children, I am often asked, "How do you do it?  Aren't you tired all the time?"

I love, play with, adventure with, feed, bathe, tend to, problem solve, prevent meltdowns, deal with meltdowns, keep them occupied, encourage, observe, help sleep, help go back to sleep, cuddle, nurse, clean a 2,000 square foot home, find tiny snippets of time for myself to relax, and create, and organize, and a few breaks here and there, and heaven knows what else, for about 14 hours straight each day.

My first instinct is to laugh.

There is no response but, "Yes.  You just do."

It really is as simple as that.

Four -The Birth Story

Next Sunday I will be the mama of a four year old.

What an amazing journey this boy and I have had for four revolutions around the sun.

It's a time where I reflect deeply on how much has changed and how much change there is to come for that beautiful boy, and myself.

Last night he asked me to tell him the story of his birth.

This has made me quite uncomfortable in the past, because my the births of both of my boys surrounds me with both love and darkness.  They were both caesarean sections.  I induced with Z, at almost two weeks past due, out of fear, and not having as big of a support system that I do now.  I didn't know then what I know now.

So instead of let this be something to tie my stomach in knots and place a lump in my throat I dove in head first, lighter than ever.

"Well, you stayed in my womb for a long time!  You must have been pretty comfy because you didn't want to come out!  (He laughs, that big belly laugh of a four year old)  So I asked the doctor about you and he said maybe we should try and get that boy to come out!  (He laughs more)  So they gave me some special medicine one night, and you sure must have thought it was more comfortable in there, because at first you just stayed put.  Then you wiggled, and twisted, and pushed, trying to come out, and my body tried hard to help you come out, and the doctor tried hard to help you come out.  But you were just too comfy I guess!  So the doctor said, "Mama, are you ready to hold your boy?" and I told that doctor, "YES, I am ready to hug my boy."  So he had to give me a little cut on my belly here (I show him my scar), and helped pull you out into the world.  We were so happy to see you we just cried, and cried, and everybody was there to meet you -Grandma, Grandpa, your uncles, and aunts, and cousins, friends, everybody!  You are the most beautiful special thing that ever happened to me, and I love you with my whole heart.  Then Daddy helped weigh you and measure you, and they brought you back to me and you nursed and nursed and nursed, and I never wanted to put you down.  Everyone asked me, "Mama, are you ever going to put that boy down?" and I'd answer, "Nope.  I love him.  And our hearts belong together."  And that's how our story began."

It was the first time I had ever told him our story without tears of sadness, guilt, or shame.  There's obviously a lot more to it.  I had a horrible, gut wrenching, scary induction, and caesarean.  But that's not important anymore.  I don't need to re-live the trauma.  I've done that too many times to count.  He doesn't need to hear that, especially at four years old.

There sure can be a lot of those emotions around non-natural births, and as one beautiful soul said, the "dogma around natural birth".  I am blessed because here at home, and through Momma Zen, in the Autumn SouLodge, I have met a group of beautiful supportive, unconditionally loving, amazing, mamas and women that know how to make a sister feel loved and whole.  I have finally, in the last year, sought out more and more support from friends, mamas, and communities of Soul Sisters.  I have told my husband how I feel, really feel, and he is beginning to get it.

I have met so many beautiful mamas with opposite experiences from mine, and some of the guilt, shame and sadness crept in, some told and some untold.  I've also met a lot of mamas, in real life, and some online in groups, that made me feel that their way of giving birth was superior.  But really, it's not.  We mamas have to stick together and be there for one another, support one another, and share stories, and experiences, no matter what they are.

Then I finally built myself up to it, and watched The Business of Being Born about a month ago.  Something shifted, and I cried and cried and sobbed like I can't remember.  I thought, "Why didn't I see this five years ago?"  But then it hit me over and over, and I realized, that I can't change my past, I don't need to change, or make my story better or worse than it is, it is my story, in my voice.  I didn't write it all, it wrote itself in a way, and that's fine.

I have put a lot of thought into it all.  I feel like I am in the final throws of letting go of the negativity.  I am sick of judging my story as bad.

My boy is about to be four.  That's a lot of time to carry around such unnecessary harmful judgements that serve nothing and no one.  I will deal with the feelings as they arise.

If you met us you would have no idea that I had such emotion surrounding our birth story.  Truth be told, the moment I held him, my world shifted in a way that is nearly unexplainable.  I fell so deeply in love, like never before, and none of it mattered until some moments where I sat alone and over-thought the tragedy around inductions and caesarean sections, and not having the birth I had dearly wanted.  We are deeply close and attached to one another, in such a special bond, and isn't that all that matters?

My boys are happy and healthy, and so am I.  This story can make me stronger, not weaker, I just have to let go of some of my ideas.  Not feed the negativity, but not ignore it, and in time it weakens and subsides.

Something has also been shifting in me in the last months.  Between Bodhi's first birthday in July and Z's fourth birthday, which is a month before mine, I feel that I am coming to see things for what they are, more than what I make them to be.  I am paying attention to my heart and intuition more than ever, and more than that, being okay with it and trusting it.  I am learning to follow that which matters, and let things that no longer help or serve me fall away.  Layers are shedding, shadows are being explored, with less judgement, and I am opening up further.  I am holding fear's hand, treating it tenderly with love, instead of letting it lead and break me down.  And it feels good to have a community and a practice, which supports not only the light but the dark.

It feels beautiful to be a woman and a mother.  More now than ever before.

I have also realized that I don't have to feel guilty about staying at home.  Like I need to be doing something more. -these unfortunate feelings creep in from time to time.  I'm learning to tell it like it is.

I am thinking about how things happen in time, in my own pace, and how I can't push the river.  I am not behind on  my path.  I am on my path.  I don't have a lot of time for my own work and creative journey, but little by little I am exploring it more.  An hour here, 15 minutes there.  Sometimes I just have to ask for space, and not feel guilty!

The wheels are cranking in my own creative work, thanks to my Creative Courage course, Ordinary Writing Prompts, and of course SouLodge, among other amazing people in my life that are following their hearts and living their dreams.  I am blessed to be right here, right now, at this time in my life.

I took these courses, and tasks on, to remind myself that it's okay to think about what I want to do in life, even if I don't have time to focus on anything for myself too hard or long right now.  I am learning some new tools on how to ask the right questions, and explore things deeper.  I am learning how to make the most of my space and time, and not just spin my wheels, and procrastinate, some days doing what I feel is a waste of my time -worrying and thinking without action.  It's also when I know that I need to sit on the cushion more!  Sometimes I need a little structure to guide my tired mama brain, without making me feel overwhelmed.

I also just read these beautiful words and feel that they are perfectly fitting.  Thank you, Stacy at Clover and Sage.  Yesyesyes!:

Vision (soil prep|seed planting) 
+ Action (cultivating|nurturing|weed pulling)
+ Trust (Harvest|Gathering|Bounty) 
= Living your vision (restoration|nourishing|reflection)

So this was a lot, a lot to set free, out of my mind, and into space.  Kind of a double birth story.  The one of my sweet boy, and the one of a mama coming into herself.

I am eternally grateful for my path.  As long and hard as it is.  Because it has made one strong mama with a ton of love in her heart.

I am grateful for my support, and my two little teachers.

xoxo

Beef Stew

Grandmother gave me many gifts, which have been handed down for generations.  Simple family secrets about how to nourish your body and soul.

I imagine that every mother, grandmother, and great-grandmother before her passed them on by silently working side by side with every future generation, whether they were paying attention or not.

They are a part of my soul.  They are in my blood.  They are who I am.  They are who my children will be.

One of them arrived silently the first time I made beef stew all by myself.

She had written down many recipes, had given me her recipe books, and prepared many Sunday dinners as I watched from below.  As a child, she never told me the recipes, but she guided my young hands, and showed me what to do.  I can't say I recall any measurements, much less seeing her measure much of anything.  She just knew what to do.

I heard many a story about her mother, and Grandfather's mother, and the mothers before them, as they grew up in the countryside of Arkansas.   It was where Grandfather said, "you never knew where the depression began or where it ended."

She grew up on a farm, her father gone most of her earliest years, sick with tuburculosis.  As the story goes, he snuck out of the hospital and she was conceived.  Blondie Raye was born in a blizzard on Valentines Day, in a small home on in the mountains, into the hands of a thirteen year old girl, as her young older sister sat nearby.

Her life began the hard way, as future generations didn't.  They killed their own food, and canned, and froze goods for the winters and future seasons.  She struggled and treaded water most of her life.  Grandfather worked in the family's Gowens General Store, and eventually together they ran the Rainbow Cafe before they set off to make a life of their own.

She carried every secret with her on how to make good country food.  She knew how to improvise, and make something out of what some would see as nothing.  She probably baked thousands of cobblers, cakes and dinner rolls.  Stirred countless beef stews and chilis.  And when it was time shared it with me, her only grandchild, a the female, born of one of her two sons.

Before I had children, I could burn cereal.  Baking was another deal altogether though.  I luckily had that gift from early on.  But, after getting pregnant I decided I had to learn how to cook.  Some of my fondest memories were sitting in my Grandmother and Nana's kitchens.  They always smelled like food, home cooked meals three times a day.  I wanted the same for my children.  I love that they can sit side by side as I make hearty, healthy food to nourish us.

So a few years ago I decided to make beef stew.  The hard headed woman that I am I decided to take it on alone, and see what I could pull off.  I gathered the ingredients, searched a few recipes to make sure I had it all right, because I had no idea about the spices.  I always figure the simpler the better.  I wanted to surprise myself, and her.

Stew meat, carrots, potatoes, onions, beef stock, pepper, salt, rosemary, parsley, and corn starch sat out on the counter.  I browned the meat, added the spices and stock and simmered it about an hour.  Just before the timer went off I thickly sliced the carrots, potatoes, and onions, and prepared a few teaspoons of corn starch to pour in.  There were no measurements, just the thought of getting it just right.  I simmered it about another hour and during that time the kitchen smelled like my Grandmother's home.

I haven't ate meat in years but decided to taste it.  Somehow, the recipe was in my bones, in my blood, and I had pulled it off.  I made Grandmother's stew.

That's how so many of our gifts come.  Invisibly, silently, handed down from heart to heart, hand to hand, full of love.  They are given when we aren't even looking, and aren't sure we're really paying attention. Then one day, we look up, and they are there right in front of us.

It reminds me to be careful of what I do and what I share, because it will linger for generations to come.

Last night, on a cool Fall evening, we sat down around the table, and all my boys shared Grandmother's stew.

Thank you, GG.

What are some favorite gifts passed down to you from generations ago?

Schlitterbahn!!

We opened our front door after three days and two nights at Schlitterbahn, glowing and happy.  We pushed ourselves far enough to be very tired, and our feet to be worn, but not completely exhausted.  We unbuckled the dudes, handed them their shark puppets and cars, unloaded the truck, showered and chilled.  Daddy headed out to pick up our sweet Shadow and we unpacked a little and played plenty.

The boys were happy to be home to familiar ground and toys.  After all the water play I could hardly get them out of the tub, which was full of dirty gray water.  You know the color, it reminds you of how much fun you just had.  I think we still smell like suntan lotion.

I was happy we got to take our own food so we also didn't return with a junk food hangover.  Of course we had our fair share of Dippin' Dots and some cheese pizza, but gratefully had plenty of fresh fruit and healthy goods to keep us going long and strong.

I loved seeing the gleam in their eyes as they explored every slide and pool, laughed while bouncing in the lazy river, made Summertime friends, and stayed up late.  Everything was so new to the boys, and seeing it all through their eyes made it a whole new experience for us.  It really didn't even matter that I spent most of the three days in wading pools.

The after hours hot tub and arcade called Z each night, as he won little prizes and made some girlfriends.  He's such a little flirt.

It was also awesome that family joined us for two out of three days, and Daddy got to escape and ride some big rides for a few hours.

Z told everyone that would listen that we were living at Schlitterbahn for three days.  They also needed to know that he was not a baby but his brother is, that he could do the rides, and he was three, almost four, and was going to have a dinosaur birthday party.  Sometimes they even got to hear that he could poop on his own and not in his swimsuit, which made the moms smile, and the seven year old little girls look at him with crooked grins like "that's cute but a little TMI".  That's my boy.

Ninja-stunt sliding

Exploring the Yellow Submarine

Let me go, I can swim!!!

Getting ready to taste the sea star

Feeling the cold Comal River water

Daddy and I even got to take Z on a tube ride together while Grandma waded and played with Bodhi.  Everytime he rushed down the rapids he almost exploded with excitement.  It was also nice to have some dude time.

The dudes tubin'

Bouncing with joy!

Look at that daredevil's grin.

Bodhi enjoying a pretzel half his size

On our second night "living at Schlitterbahn", Bodhi crawled off the bed and bumped his head.  It made us all sad and after he calmed down and we figured he was really okay, just stunned.  Z and I decided to read some stories and go to sleep next to him, like we had the night before.  While I stepped out to find our flashlight, I returned to find Z sweetly singing "All the Pretty Little Horses" to Bodhi and I just about melted.

Pure sweetness.

The last day was just us so we spent all our time wading in the kiddie pools and floating the lazy river.  Bodhi even napped in his tube while I floated around next to him.

Hi, Daddy!

We got a gator!

Eventually, we hopped on the last bus home, with smiles on our face, ready to get some more good food in our belly.

Last bus to the resort

Heading home

See you next year, Schlitterbahn! 

Love is Love

Love is there, even if you wonder if it is.

Love is love.

Love is unconditional.

Love cannot be lost.

Love cannot be diluted.

Love isn't more or less.

Love is endless, and full and never absent.

In the words of Operation Ivy, "The position being taken, is not to be mistaken, for attempted education, or righteous accusation, (it's) only a description, just an observation."

I think that Z is finally beginning to understand in his three year old brain that my love for him is unconditional and unchanged since the birth of his brother.  I can love him and his brother at the same time, no matter what.

This isn't something I can tell him, although of course I do.  He had to see it.  

He's seen it over and over and over in what I do for him, out of nothing but love.

I love my boys.  They are my heart.  

Sometimes he sees me swoon over his brother.  I used to be afraid for him to see it, that he may think I loved him less in that moment.  I never hid it, I just always thought, "What is he thinking right now?"  What silly thoughts.  

He has to see me love endlessly and unconditionally, everyone that I can.  Sometimes I think it's hard to see me cuddle, adore and love another being with my whole heart, but it's the same love I give to him. If he has to come hurdling into the hug to feel it, then fine, I will not push him away.  Push your way into my circle of love as many times as you have to and finally understand that you are always welcome, although your brother may tug those lovely locks.

These boys have night and day personalities.  And that's fine.  It doesn't mean that I love either of them differently.  I just love them.  That's just how love works.  

He has seen me lose it, he has seen me cry, he has seen me angry, especially when another person gets hurt (including him), but I always return to love him no matter what.  You see, because my heart may fracture, but it is ever whole and shining with love.

Unconditional, forever love.

Happy 1st Birthday

Happy 1st birthday, sweet Bodhi.

Thanks for the swing, Grandma!

First steps on his birthday!

Birthday present. 

Good morning, sweet birthday boy!

Oh, Mama!

Playtime!

Where's brother?

My butter eatin' chocolate cake bakin' helper.

Spaghetti time!

He clearly does not have his brother and Daddy's sweet tooth.
He hardly touched it.  Made me laugh.

Goodnight, sleep tight. 

What Gets My Attention?

I have to pick myself up and dust myself off.  Sometimes, again and again.

I've been in a funk lately and having a hard time pulling myself out of it.

There's no time like now to ask myself what needs to change.  Some things take a ton of my time, some only a little, but lots of little things can add up to a lot!

Lately, most days I feel pulled in a hundred different directions and spreading myself thin.  I'm not a great multi-tasker.  It does no one any good.  How can anyone give their full attention to more than one thing?  It's hard with two children.  Harder than I ever imagined.

I also get overwhelmed when I think of all the different hats that I wear.  Sometimes I feel like I'm wearing 20 hats at once.  That's enough weight to pull anyone down.

I am working hard, paying attention to where my energy goes and what matters.  If I add the right things to my plate the rest won't fit.

Noticing it is the first step...

I'm pretty good about following my daily rituals.  My little pauses bring such gratitude to our day.

I'm always learning how to connect with and guide Z, and Bodhi, and give my full attention.

I'm trying to breathe and think before I speak or yell.  Sometimes it happens so fast!

I'm getting my butt on the cushion every day.  Even if my name is called, I figure five minutes is better than no minutes.

I want to make a little art or create something fun everyday, with myself and with Z.

I'm slowly taking more time for myself here and there.

I'm slowly learning how to ask for help.

I'm slowly learning how to let go more and more of the things that don't matter.

I'm slowly diving further into the things and people that do matter.

I'm slowly learning how to let go of others' judgements, sooner than later.

I'm unsubscribing more and more.

I'm checking Facebook and e-mail less and less.  

I'm leaving my phone inside or in the other room.

I'm stopping reading so many damn parenting articles.  (By the way, up yours, Time Magazine.  I am just a mama.)

I'm going back to reading more offline than online.

I write only when I have something to say to or remind myself.

I want to write more letters.

I want to journal more.

I'm thinking about who I spend my time with.

I'm working out ways to spend more time with each of the boys alone.

I'm thinking about how to spend some time alone with Daddy.  I can't even remember the last time we hung out without the kids.

I'm my harshest critic and I need to be more kind to myself.

In the words of the beautiful Karen Maezen Miller, "Attention is the most concrete expression of love.  What you pay attention to thrives.  What you do not pay attention to withers and dies."  

What are you paying attention to?

Magnitude

Not a day passes that sorrow doesn't seep deep into my bones.

Stories from those that I love, near and far, known and unknown, or the news can break a heart and tenderize it at the same time.  It's those cracks that allow the love to flow.

It broke my heart when Z got hurt, my mind is still unsettled from that.

My dog-niece was buried next to Paco this weekend.  The mother of his children.

A close friend's father passed away from a freak accident.

The news in Austin alone continues to astound me with it's growing violence and sadness.

That's just the tip of the iceberg.

It makes me wonder what kind of world I brought children into.  It makes me cry when I think of the pain that they will endure in their lifetime.  I imagine that parents have pondered this for millennia.

Above all, it makes me realize the magnitude of the job of a parent and what examples I set.

Truth be told, they let me know every day what I should and shouldn't be doing.

It's up to me to show my children love, compassion and respect, so that they may give the same to others.

It's up to me to be kind and gentle, so that everyone receives the same touch from them.

It's up to me to forgive, so that the trespasses and pains others bring may be forgiven.  And so that they can forgive themselves.  We all make mistakes and do things we regret.

It's up to me to be patient, so that they can tolerate everyone and not get so frustrated.

It's up to me to be fearless, so that they may go beyond their fears and learn what they are capable of.

It's up to me to be generous, so that they learn to give and never expect in return.

It's up to me to give them all that I have, love, time and resources, so that they may experience the world in ways that Daddy and I did or didn't.

It's up to me to listen to them, so that they listen to others.

But when it comes down to it, children already encompass all these traits from birth.  Sometimes they forget them, begin to test them, or see alternate examples, but they lie in the heart of each and everyone of us.

It's up to me to remind them that they can remain well into adulthood.

I am so grateful that they have taught and reminded me of so many things, which in turn reminds me that I too teach them.

I Am a Mama

I am a mama.

When did it become not enough to be just a mama?

Why does any mama have to be ecological breastfeeding, crunchy, attachment parent mama like it's some contest?

I refuse to enter that contest.  Have at it.

I never even heard these terms until the last year or so but found that they are in line with how I am as a mother, for the most part.  I had to Google them when I first heard them.  These things come naturally, I figured.

Can you imagine what our Mamas, Grandmothers, Great-Grandmothers, Great-Great-Great-Grandmothers (and on and on) and Mama sisters around the world would think?

I kind of think it's funny.

I kind of think it's sad.

Is it not enough that I adore and love my children more than anything in the world and take care of them to the best of my ability with their mental, physical and emotional well-being and health in mind?

I adore being a mother and find that every mother can identify with one another at the deepest level, just like we all can if we try.

It's like every mother is a sister.

We all need to lighten our loads.

We are above all Mamas.

That is enough.

Deep breath and carry on...

More Love

When I was pregnant with Bodhi I was worried.  

How could I love another child as much as I love Z?  He was my whole world pre-Bodhi.

Not that I wouldn't love and adore Bodhi, but the same, as much?  How would it work?

I felt embarrassed just thinking about it.  It sounds so silly now even saying it out loud.  

I remember talking with my beautiful ninety-year-old Great Aunt Inez about it.  She laughed and smiled.  I will never forget her reaction.  Her reply was, "Honey, it's just that much more love."  She looked at me like, "you'll see, honey, you'll see.".

You know what?  She was right.  Oh so very right.  

I adore each of my very different boys with all my heart.  There is no such thing as favorites.  As I tell them, I love you more than the universe times infinity.

Having one child taught me the true meaning of unconditional love.

Having two teaches me to share and spread that love further.  

It also taught me, more than anything ever before, that everyone deserves unconditional love.  

We are all someone's child.  

Sometimes when I get angry at someone, or think someone is being stupid or are just plain pissed off at them, I remind myself that they are so loved by someone, and why can't that someone also be me. 

That is the beauty of unconditional love.

We all deserve it.

We are all one.

Colossal Faith

"I look at my son's open and shining face.

In his mind there are no old jobs,

old hurts or old grudges.

No gossip or fretting.

Not the debris of dashed hopes or unrealized plans.

Nothing hounding him.

Nothing to prove.

No list on the refrigerator.

There is just immediacy, honesty and perfection.

Somehow he trusts that everything he needs will be provided here and now.

If I could muster just a tiny bit of his colossal faith that everything is, and will be, okay, 

I could live differently."

Karen Maezen Miller,

Momma Zen

This quote can stop me in my tracks and slow me down.  I love these words.  

*I changed her to him, but the essence remains the same.  

Changes

Change happens.

We've had a lot of it lately in a very short period of time.

I am so grateful for my tiny teachers, always reminding me that I can accept change, or I can fight it.  

I can get frustrated or sad about it, or I can accept that frustration and sadness and keep on truckin'.  

I can put on a smile and laugh, or I can put on a frown and ruin the mood for everyone.

I can dwell on how much harder it is, or I can simply make us all more comfortable.

There's always a little of both.

Bodhi has become mobile.  He is no longer the tiny infant that I can set down on the play-mat and walk away to grab some water.  Oh, no.

All in a matter of weeks he was pushing up...

Getting up on hands and knees...

Doing downward dog...

Rocking back and forth...

Sitting up...

Putting one hand then knee in front of the other...

Crawling...

Pulling up...

Standing while holding on...

Working hard to get to anything anywhere...

And now he is ready to play with big brother.  I mean really play.  Crawl on him, pull hair and seek out his tiny Legos.

He wants to really be in the experience now.

As soon as Bodhi began taking off, I began to feel nostalgic.  He is no longer my tiny immobile infant.  He is learning independence and becoming capable of exploring.  He is outgrowing nine month outfits and he is seven months old.  He is no longer a newborn.  Of course, he's still cuddly and lovey dovey but he is also ready to explore on his own a little more each day.

We have got to understand that he is busy sometimes and doesn't just want to be pulled away from something.  He works hard getting from point A to point B.  He gets very frustrated when he gets to a toy, only to have it taken away or replaced.

He's learning how to use his little body and finding such pleasure in it.  It's an honor to be a part of it.

These tiny people change so fast and all I can do is bear witness to it and assist it.

Routines are changing.  

Naptime are changing.

Dinnertime is changing.

Bathtime is changing.

Bedtime is changing.

Everything is changing.

We're all growing in leaps and bounds.

I must clear the paths and let go.  

I Miss Her

The last time I held my Grandmother's hand was a year and a day ago.

My husband took a long lunch so I could go sit with her alone.  I drove a few miles away to the house where the nurses were taking care of her.  I was greeted by smell of a lovely aromatic lunch.  I was sad because I know she wouldn't be able to eat it.  In fact the only thing she had eaten in days was a little dessert. as I suppose it should be in your last days.

I peeked in her bright room with pink walls and lace curtains, just like her bedroom at home.  It was quite fitting for the petite Avon lady and Valentine's day baby that she was.  She was asleep, as usual.  I went to greet every housemate and nurse then retreated to her room.  I sat between her and the big picture window, her only view of the world outside, and took her hand.  I listened to her deep and shallow breath.  Tears welled up as I knew we didn't have too much time left.

I didn't want to wake her.  I knew how tired she was.  Being there was enough.

After about twenty minutes she woke up and gently smiled.  "How are you?  Where's ZR?"  I told her that he was at home.  She sure adored her great grandson.

She was weak and couldn't sit up.  I helped give her water and clean her mouth, which I was surprised she even let me do.  She held onto every thread of her dignity.

I noticed she was looking at the picture of her and Grandfather, and her parents, all in one frame.  She pointed at them and said, "They follow me everywhere I go.  They are always with me."  I teared up.  She just smiled bigger than I had seen in a long time.

Have you ever felt peaceful, totally scared shitless and covered in goosebumps all at once?  Well, that's how I felt.

It was her way of telling me she was ready.  She showed me that she had found peace in what was about to happen.  I had been so scared she hadn't found peace or acceptance, as much as anyone could,  until that very moment.  She didn't talk about dying much but had cracked her shell once to tell me she was afraid.  I did my best to just listen and love.  What could I say?  I had no idea.

She didn't explain any further.  Sometimes words just aren't necessary.

She was tired again, and I knew it was about time for me to have to leave.  We said our goodbyes, hugged and kissed.  She asked me if I was coming back with ZR.  I said I would.  I blew her a kiss and she smiled and blew one back.  Then I walked out the door with the picture of her smiling in my mind.

That night I was so tired, cranky and exhausted, being three months pregnant and constantly nauseous, and Z wasn't in the best mood.  I called to see if she was awake.  She wasn't.  So I decided not to go back.  I went to see her twice most days.  The nurse said she would tell her I checked on her.

It would be a decision I will live to regret the rest of my life.

When the knock came at 5:30 the next morning, I was dazed and exhausted.  My husband went to answer it and I heard quiet voices then steps heading upstairs.  He quietly said, "You're Grandmother is gone."  I grabbed my phone that I had accidentally left downstairs -five missed calls and several messages.  I threw on some clothes and exited into the freezing January morning air to say goodbye.

It was one of the hardest days of my life.  I am so grateful that I had her for thirty years.  We had such a special bond and sometimes it's hard to believe she is actually gone.

I don't know what I believe about the afterlife, but I believe she is still with us in some form.  When Z asks where heaven is, the only word I can find to describe it, I tell him, "In your heart.  Heaven is in our hearts and is with us always.  We can't see it but we know it is there.  Anyone in heaven can hear us but we just can't see them.  GG is listening anytime you want to talk to her."

Rest in Peace, Grandmother.  I love you a bushel and a peck and a hug around the neck.  Thank you for my life and everything you taught me.  I miss you.

*******************

The song above, Waiting on an Angel by Ben Harper, was on the CD I chose for our road trip to her funeral.  Of course, I sobbed as soon as I heard the first few lines, as it perfectly described how my Grandmother felt in her last day.  What an amazing find at such a time in my life.  

The universe works in mysterious ways.

In a Few Words

One more time we've welcomed a new year.

Happy 2012 to you.

I'm not big on making new year's resolutions.  I'd rather my intentions slowly evolve and grow with me every day.

However, there are a few words I'd like to bring further into focus this year.

Unconditional Love

Towards every being.

Gratitude 
For everyone and everything that crosses my path.
Good or bad.
Welcomed or unwelcomed.

Content
With my life, my place in this world, my home, my family and my friends.

Connection 
To family, friends, community, the earth, the seasons, myself, my art & expression and breath.
A deeper connection to my children by seeing the world through their eyes, not just mine.

Breath
A reminder to be aware and present.

Slow
Slow my thoughts, my reactions, my sense of urgency and worries.

Non-judgemental Awareness
Thoughts and emotions come and go.
Don't hold my thoughts or judgments against anything.
Let them burn away in their own time.

Open
Heart, mind & sense of freedom.

Space
For my thoughts, words, breath, actions and reactions.

Finding space for me to sit.
Creating a space for my creativity and art.

Fearless
Going beyond my fear.
Learning to dive in deeper.
Not worrying about perfect.

Have you made any resolutions, set any intentions or thought about your new year?

This Moment

Mama's birthday cake
Two special moments because it's a birthday week!

{this moment} - A Friday ritual. A single photo - no words - capturing a moment from the week. A simple, special, extraordinary moment. A moment I want to pause, savor and remember.  Inspired by SouleMama.

If you're inspired to do the same, leave a link to your 'moment' in the comments for all to find and see.