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Friday, September 30, 2011

The Great Pinterest Challenge Link-Up!

I am a pinterest junkie, like many of my friends on facebook and youtube and I spend hours pinning projects that I would love to do. But never get around to.  So my friend Christina issued this challenge on her blog: and invited everyone to join.  Since I have already been re-making my son's jungle themed nursery into a big boy's room I decided to combine the two goals. This is what I came up.  One of the problems we have is book storage, I want them to be accessible and I want the boys to see the faces of the books instead of the spines.  I found this awesome tutorial: The top picture is the tutorial sling and the pictures below it are my version. I decided to quilt them to give them more strength and appliqued the words explore, learn, read and grow. We are immensely happy with the result!

Wednesday, September 28, 2011

Living joyfully; rainy days and blanket forts. Originally posted may 2011

What do you do with two small boys when it rains for a solid week? This is what we did...

My thoughts about Josh. Originally posted may 2011

As the end of the school year comes closer I am forced to recognize that my family will be going through a cataclysmic change, Josh will be graduating and going to college. Just typing that caused my eyes to burn with the threat of tears.  I'm. not. ready.   Joshua became the child of my heart when he was twelve, and in these last five and a half years I've raised him and watched him grow from being a lego-obsessed boy to a girl-obsessed  pre adult(although still lego obsessed).  It is hard to accept that he won't be swooping into the house with a million stories to tell me. Damn, there go the stupid tears again.  I think the most obvious change will the absence of Bach from that gypsy viola of his. Nobody can do Bach on the viola like he can. His playing has the ability to break your heart and exalt you to the heavens at the same time. One of the things I love about Josh and our relationship is that he loves for his playing to be able to wring tears from soppy, sappy me. When he puts down the bow he glances over to me and if I'm wiping away tears and sniffling he knows he's nailed it.  He is an immensely driven person and very disciplined. His Dad might disagree, but I see it. How hard he tries, how frustrated he gets, how jubilant when it flows.  Next year seems like a desolate prospect without our Joshie.  And he says" I know you'll cry and miss me but I'm ready to go" Oh, Josh, last night you said I make the best macaroni salad and my heart swelled with pride. There's no other compliment that means more.  Damn tears.

Josh and Eli

Bad day. originally posted may 2011

Did you ever have a day that you wish you could erase?  If only I could start the day over and be a better mother.  So tonight I have a heavy heart and a big smashing load of guilt.  Nothing to do but start over tomorrow and apologize for today.

A hard day at work

Today at work my two bosses were so mean! First they trashed my desk and threw all my mail all over the floor. When I asked them to stop they threw their heads back and screamed while I cleaned it up. Then one of them came over to talk to me, he got too close and accidentally head butted me right in the nose! I really saw stars for a minute, but what could I do? I work for them! Then one of them poked me in the eye with a straw just to see what I would do. I really thought about quitting at that moment but I stuck it out. Then they took their mid day break, I breathed a sigh of relief and quickly cleaned my work area. But to my dismay they came back an hour early and swiftly destroyed every thing I had one. What could I do? I just gave up and sat back and watched them destroy the entire office. I'll just stay after hours to get everything done just in time for them to ruin it again tomorrow! Ah...just a typical day of working for two little boys!


Here I am again, alone in the moon.
Quiet...hush...silence...the moments slipping by without a word.
Darkness...velvet...the night-time welcoming me again.
This is me,  here and now,  feeling the wildness that motherhood cannot dim. Wishing for the winds to take me into that luminescent sky.
To shake off my corporeality, the slowness of flesh.   Now, not earth mother,  not the curve of limbs and lash of hair.
Not the golden goddess from my child's eye. Now, silver and quick,  alone, and unfettered, shriven, free.
It is only me here.
In the space between the people,
there exists a sacred silence.
A memory of some violent change.
That formed a shape of intolerable beauty.
Just barely seen under the light.
But comes alive,  alone at night...

Lovesong...dedicated to Keith

There are many human-shaped universes
pressed against each other
like soap bubbles
so tentatively...
with connections built from delicate fibers
of love and blood
and words spoken softly. I let my love whisper gently and not clamor for attention. You bend an ear to catch
and delicately pick up my thread. This is how the connection is built, like a monolith made from sand.
One tiny speck laid patiently on another. Each gesture, touch and word a brick. Each smile and caress, mortar.
The body is illusion, like the sheen on still water, with a spirit brightly juxtaposed.
This is what love is, the siren call of the soul, mine to yours, and yours to God.
and the rest is only muscle memory.
Ephemeral like a soap bubble, it lives for a time and then fades.
And yet the touch of your hand, your laugh, is my hold on this life. I look for you in every hour and desire this connection.
The divine simplicity of your skin on mine and how your voice serenades me with bliss.
This is how I see you, your hands wrapped around a violin, fingers splayed . Your music bursts note by note, clean and wild.
And flows around me in sweet rhythm.
We make our own divinity from moments like this.
Suddenly struck by how perfection is created from damaged pieces,
a beautiful sculpture carved from flawed wood.
I find myself curved into the hollow of your shoulder,
crying like a wild thing.
A heart broken by beauty and healed again and again.
We are circling what we already know, that beyond this moment there is another and another.
A spiral of significant events that forms pure reason.
Is this real? Are we souls in our infancy waiting for veneration?
I do not believe that time is so linear that we grow from young to old.
but rather abiding in a span of seconds and moments standing still.
And this moment, which seems so fleeting, is eternal.
I would find you again, love, and go where you go.
I will be steadfast and bestow my grace for the asking.
So we let this tenderness ripen, and try not to fear the close of our day.
And we build a dwelling of living connections that mirrors our pristine youth.
With the wisdom to grow innately into horizons of their own.
Not made but born, tenuously fragile and resilient.
This is a gift! A becoming for which we were made.
To keep circling from beginning to end until they are one and the same.
And then to start it all over again.
This is what I'm thinking when I place my hand into yours and let my eyes meet your eyes.
And make my promises before the ones that made me.
That I have loved you before I was sinew and bone and that I will love you after I am dust in the corners.
That I will match my step to yours and fill my ears with your music.
And when it fades I will be at peace.
And wait until it swells again.

Monday, August 1, 2011

World breastfeeding week Aug 1-7

I can't write about what nursing my baby has meant to me without getting tears in my eyes and a lump in my throat.  Even after 16 months I still can't believe it works, that his thighs are chunky because my body made them that way. That I could produce this substance that sustains my baby and gives him comfort. I can't describe the waves of love that overtake me when he latches, the sweet way he looks at me, that little humming noises that he makes. His eyes meet mine, then go half-lidded, then open again in pleasure, I can't take my eyes off him. His belly is against mine, his legs curl around my waist, he fits perfectly. His hands stroke my face, rub my arms, and find their way into my hands. His head smells so unbelievably sweet. I love when he falls asleep while nursing and touch his face, this baby is mine!!! How did I get so lucky? While he's playing he comes over for a pit stop and will nurse energetically for just a few moments and then rush back to the game. Sometimes he can't decide which one he wants and will sample both several times before settling. He definitely has a favorite, my right and choose that one more often. He hasn't made a name for them yet and I'm curious about what he will come up with, he is funny little guy so I imagine it will be clever and unique. He still likes to nurse at night and will do so without waking up. Thank goodness for this, I have not experienced sleep deprivation with him. He is possessive of them and will fight his older brother for dominion of my lap and will yet at his father when he gets to close. He likes to talk and smile at them. I would gladly nurse him for years and years and dread the day when he decides he has had enough of him. I have loved every moment spent cradling my little love and heart grows even more  with every day of his life. I think it goes without saying that I have tears running down my face. Thank you God for this precious gift.

Sunday, June 26, 2011

New from the sweatshop!

I have been a busy busy bee! I've finally worked the kinks out of my diaper pattern and turned out some diapers that I'm really happy with! Sam has been a great guinea pig and tested these for me. The fit is great, the AIO's don't leak or wick and the fitted is super soft and provides a very trim fit under a cover. I also wrote an article for Autumn Beck's blog in which I sewed a diaper stash for under 30 dollars! It's been a busy couple of months. Here's some pics for everyone's edification! From the top, 1. AIO, corduroy outer, hidden PUL layer, minkee inner 2. AIO.laminated minkee outer, minkee inner 3. fitted cotton woven outer, bamboo velour inner. 4. fleece diaper cover with an embellished bamboo velour prefold. 5. two small soakers, wool and fleece 6. T-shirt fitted with a T-shirt prefold inside. I've got some other stuff cooking but that is another blog post! Namaste!!!

Friday, January 21, 2011

Terrible Toddlers...

How do I write this? Right now I am not loving my 4 yr old.  His exploits today have left me sobbing in frustration as he pours milk on my brand new recliner, pushes his baby brother to the floor, screams because wild kratts isn't on, and tears through my house like a whirling dervish leaving a wake of destruction behind him. I am worn out from the litany of: stopthatputthatdownleavethatalonestopscreamingdon'tpushyourbrothersitdownandbequietoryourgoingtobed!  My head is pounding and my eyes are hot and swollen, I have been defeated by a toddler!  He is not a terrible boy, just a stir-crazy one. we have been snowed in for days. He is bored with me and I am tired of entertaining him, and getting him an endless stream of snacks and drinks.  There must be a point where the parent-child relationship needs a little space, when we are not each others favorite person in the world.  The best thing I can do for him is to send him upstairs to play with his legos. He takes like a punishment but  the most loving thing to do is to get him away from me.  Parenting is definitely not for the weak!