First of all, I already know the answer. Of course it is. I look at that photo, at those beautiful boys and it's clear. I can sit in the big chair in our living room and have these little limbs strewn across me, blonde heads buried into my neck, big brown eyes crinkling as they laugh at one of my silly jokes, and I know, this is all I need. Truly. But then sometimes there's this tiny little twinge in my heart- an extra beat maybe, when I think about having another baby.
I used to want six kids. I dreamed of this. I imagined Hank and I living on a farm somewhere (ignoring that I'm basically scared of most animals) raising our children. I would homeschool (I would never homeschool), grow our own food (I kill half of the plants that enter our house), and live our life simply. Oh, dreams. What funny things they can be as you grow into your reality.
So we had one child. And as he got older I said, "Okay, for us, six is insane. Maybe four. Yes, four." And we had another. And I saw how that went. And I said, "Okay four is insane. Maybe three. Yes, three." And that baby grew and grew and more and more of his baby-ness fell away. And now that baby is turning two and the other is turning five and I look at this life and I wonder what is next.
Do I have a hole in my heart that yearns to be filled with another child? Is that what this feeling is? Do we grow our family one more time? I'm certain the answer is yes, and I've been thinking about it often. But not now. I'm pretty sure about that. But then we ask ourselves, when? When does life slow down enough where I would say okay, this is the time?
It's weird to be at the end of this part of our lives. One more baby. Just one. It seems like yesterday that we were at the beginning, pregnant with Henry and imagining what life would be like once he arrived. Then I can flash forward to almost two years ago, when Charlie was born. Two boys sitting there with me on the hospital bed. One wrapped up in a blanket nursing, the other snuggled up next to me, looking with awe at his new baby brother.
What a gift it is to know when something is your last. The last time you're pregnant. The last time you have that first moment with your new baby. The last time you give a first bath. The last first word. I've already promised myself that when the time comes to try for that sweet baby, and if we are able to have another, that I won't spend my time mourning everything as it passes. That's no way to enjoy a beautiful season of life. Being in the now will be so important, and that's where I want to be- where I need to be. So we will see what's next for us, see what's next for this little family of ours. I have babies on the brain lately, but there's a pause button there too, and a little thought in my mind saying "Not now, but maybe soon." We'll see, we'll see.
First of all, Happy Mother's Day! I hope all of you had a great weekend. We spent part of the weekend at the Scottsdale Hyatt (yay for summer rates!), and then spent the rest of it relaxing at home. For me, that meant binge-watching television in bed with no interruptions and then going on a long run in the afternoon. It was really, really wonderful.
So Hank and I typically subscribe to a no-gifts policy for each other for all occasions and instead put our money towards travel...but this year the boys surprised me with a GoPro. I've wanted one for some time, and I was SO excited to receive it! Yesterday we took it for its first spin, and here's a quick little video I made from part of our Mother's Day evening. I hope you enjoy- and be sure to click the gear to watch it in HD! xoxo
I was thinking about my Mom this morning, as I got ready. I thought about all the times I watched her get ready, my little girl hands reaching up to her rose pink jewelry box, tasseled drawers that held layers and layers of treasures inside. Turquoise and silver and gold. I can see my mother's makeup bag- the Avon eyeshadows with the tiny sponge applicators, the lipsticks in red and pink and purple, the chalky blushes and sharpened lip liners. I can see her Kiehl's Rosewater, the Elizabeth Taylor perfume bottles sitting on her dresser, and a magnifying mirror lit up.
It was never a thing though- appearance. My Mom was a hippie at heart, growing food in our backyard, washing clothes and hanging them on the line, and when I think of her back then I just remember her smile and her short hair and her laughing eyes. She was someone who always did her own thing, but did it in such a quiet way that I never realized she was doing so until much later, looking back.
Throughout my childhood my Mom had severe psoriasis that covered a lot of her arms and legs. Sometimes people would look. Sometimes people would say something, or ask questions. My Mom didn't make a big deal about it- she would wear shorts and tank tops and bathing suits without care. But I remember being fiercely protective of her, and it bothered me when people would look. Or say something, or ask those questions. She never seemed sad about it though, and would tell my sister and me, "This is not who I am, this is just my appearance. Let people think what they want."
Many years later my mother battled breast cancer. I can still remember her whispering to me- "I have something to tell you," the rest of the conversation echoey in my mind as she talked and talked, the words dropping one by one into some hollow place inside of my chest. She beat the cancer, but lost both of her breasts in the process. Instead of having reconstructive surgery my Mom elected to just remove them, and be done with it. She has two scars where her breasts once were.
I'm not sure, even seven years ago, that I recognized what a statement that was. I see it now though, and as I get older it's almost as if my Mom has become this living pool of inspiration for me. I can pull out more and more, and the closer I get to her, the more I see myself in the reflection.
I think about her asking me if I wanted any of her bras, because she wouldn't need them anymore. How she wouldn't want them anymore. Then she's laying in bed, post-op, bags attached to her chest, and I'm getting her water. I think about after, standing there in the bathroom with her as she asked if I wanted to see the scars, if it bothered me to see her this way. And I look at my Mom now, many years later, on the floor playing with her grandchildren.
Time moves quickly when you look at it backwards. Rewinding and fast-forwarding, the Avon and perfume bottles, little hands reaching up, watching her apply mascara that smelled like flowers, slipping on chunky bracelet after bracelet. And here we are.
I can see now how all of the choices in my mother's life- all of the ways she has led by very quiet example, molded me into who I am today. "This is not who I am, this is just my appearance. Let people think what they want," has become woven into the very fabric of who I am. My mother has taught me that, more than anything, I am enough. She told me this, but more so, has shown me.
When everything else is stripped away, when I'm left with just the very essence of who I am, I know that this person is beautiful and important and valuable. This is what my Mom has taught me, and what I hope to pass along to my boys as well.
I am forever grateful for the greatest example of self-love I've ever had.
It's winter right now and we wake up in the dark, a tiny sliver of light sometimes coming through the bedroom windows, the moon still visible if the clouds are low. Our mornings are as full as ever as we get ourselves and the boys ready for the day, the hustle and bustle of those first hours feeling so comfortable as we all busy ourselves with the usual breakfast-making, lunch-packing, and toy-playing. It's cold outside, so we spend more times indoors, which can make for long days when it's snowy or rainy or the winter wind blows a little too cold. It's so cozy though, and as much as I have been longing for warmer weather there's something about big comfy blankets and warm, wooly socks and movie marathons that satisfy something in my mama heart. Our right now is one baby walking (no, running!) everywhere and learning new words every single minute. The constant chatter and the non-stop exploring and the always-opening, pushing, pulling- it's amazing to watch. Tiring in our adult world at times but it's fascinating to be here as this little person become a bigger person right before our eyes. And Henry, he is growing like a weed. On quiet days sit him down with a numbers book or a word search and he'll be occupied for a good 30 minutes, until it's time to run-run-run again. Skateboarding is on his mind the most, and watching him learn the basics and add more to what he can do every time he's out there has been such a delight, and a bit scary too, but he's spreading his wings and for that I'm more excited than anything. Right now is about family. It's our unit of four but also my sister and Lucy, and my parents. It's going through hard times but being there for each other, knowing that this immediate circle of us, this circle is solid and our love is a safe haven for those of us that need it. Right now is about growth and change. We're getting better, always trying to be better, and I think that has been so important for us- never stopping, always asking how I can do this more efficiently, be kinder to each other, make better choices. Right now is for planning family trips in the spring and summer, getting excited about all the places we haven't yet been. It's for working hard at being intentional in all areas of our life; being present and there for the people who need us. It's for seeing little bits of spring on those special warm days, tiny little buds poking up that remind us that there is more coming- just hold onto each other, stay close during the storm, and before you know it sunshine will be pouring into every corner of our life. We've got this.
I wanted to share a few photos from our holidays this year before I totally forgot about it. Although to be honest it feels like a blur way back in my memory already, even though it's only been a couple of weeks! I'm someone who really does love all the hustle and bustle of November and December, but once the New Year hits I find it SO relieving and almost exciting that it's smooth sailing until spring.
This year's Christmas was low-key and great. We celebrated with three sets of grandparents plus our own little family, so it was busy, but really wonderful. I'm still not sure if seeing the boys' faces light up as they run out to the tree early in the morning will every get old- Christmastime with kids is the best.
I hope you and yours had a wonderful, magical holiday season as well!
Last weekend Hank, the boys and I headed out to Los Angeles for a fun family weekend. When we returned home that Sunday it felt like a whirlwind- it was a jam-packed four days, but as busy as it was, it was so much fun!
We flew out of our small local airport into LAX on Thursday evening. It's a quick one-hour flight, so it's not bad for the kids, although it can be very bumpy at times. This time we got Charlie his own seat so we could have him in his carseat while flying, and it worked out well. I get nervous about the turbulence and him not being strapped in safely since its a small place, so it made me feel better to have him secured. We use the Orbit Baby toddler carseat and it's very easy to use on a plane- you just pop on the side rails and it quickly can be used right in the airplane seat (and then later rear-facing in your rental car if need be). Because we travel a lot, and especially by car, Charlie is very used to his carseat so flying for an hour in it was no thing. The carseat also clicks right into the stroller base so that's how we do it- check Henry's seat at the ticket counter, gatecheck the stroller, and carry Charlie's seat on the plane.
The next few days were full of a lot- I worked in the Ergobaby office on Friday while it rained and rained and rained. Hank kept the kids busy, and when I got back to the hotel we headed over to the Farmer's Market at The Grove for dinner and our favorite treat, Pinkberry. The next morning we hiked around Griffith Observatory and we all absolutely loved it. It was our first time there and not only was the post-rain view breathtaking, there were so many great hiking paths we could all enjoy. I definitely recommend adding this to your "must-see" list if you plan on visiting L.A., with or without kids.
Later in the day was Crafting Community's Handmade Holiday event at the Lombardi House, and we spent a couple of hours hanging with friends, enjoying delicious treats, and crafting (of course!). It was a really special day, and my first experience with Crafting Community. It's hard to capture the entire afternoon in a paragraph, but I was so impressed with every bit of the event. There was something for everyone, and Henry and I had the best time making and creating gifts for the people we love. Crafting Community's mission is to create experiences where families can play, grow and be together...and we did just that! I felt so happy being around so much beauty, and I left feeling very inspired, full of fun ideas to do with Henry, and best of all HE had the best time. What a day!
The rest of the trip zoomed on by, and we ended it Sunday at the beach. It was a quick visit, but we managed to squeeze in some beach running, boardwalking, and Mexican food eating. All in all, it was one of my favorite weekends to date.
Thanks for the fun weekend, L.A.! Can't wait to come back again soon.
Here are some photos- from both my iPhone and regular camera. Enjoy. xo
*this post is in partnership with Orbit Baby and Crafting Community.
