If you ever feel like telling a pregnant woman that !she's about to pop! --resist the temptation. She probably knows. Also, we don't pop.
How about giving her an encouragement instead?
Thank you for bearing new life.
Blessings on your labor.
You carry that baby so well.
Blessings on your labor.
You carry that baby so well.
Breath is life. It's so important to be intentional and not wasteful in how we use it.
(Remind me of this tomorrow when I start to rant at my 10-yr-old for leaving milk sitting on the front steps...) (March 8)
Holing up with chocolate for a few mins here--as my friend Veronica says, 11 years of wiping heinis = a nightly bowl of ice cream and hourly "10 minute breaks." (March 7)
Someday you might find yourself on your couch clutching your sobbing children as you say goodbye to your 8-month old cat who has just died a horrible, dramatic death in your living room after being sick for 3 days. Parenting is dangerous. Parenting cats is dangerous. I didn't think this would happen for another 10 years or so... It seems like he ate some kind of poison. Can we find hope and not let every thought crumble, when we just saw what we saw, and we'd prayed and prayed? I won't let this turn into poison in my mind. I'll just cry for him and let that be that and not draw all kinds of dramatic meanings out of it for now. Ok? I'll hold them, be with them, remember Catness and the dear and funny things he did. Loving them better and more gently is my design. We feel so raw. (March 11)
Sweet, comforting friends keep telling me my children will be OK and that this will help them grow. I agree. But I just want to say *I* MISS THE CAT! *I* hate that he suffered! I will never forget the haunting sound of his little kitten body giving up the ghost (and a lot of violent throw up) when he died and we all rushed around him with helpless cries of despair. Last night I blustered in from the icy winds and I just wanted to call him at the door one last time. So I did.And then I cried. Golden sat there in front of his fresh grave Sunday evening for a long time alone in the darkening freeze, and Sparrow went out to her with a blanket so they could huddle through that bleary ache together. I haven't worked in three days. Isn't it strange that this cat who is just an ANIMAL --and we eat animals every day-- could make me cry so much? I mean, I experienced the death of my own MOTHER and two miscarriages. What IS this strange thing called grief, that I know in a few days will be dull and accepted and in a few months probably completely forgotten? I can only hope it fuels me to treasure my people and all our moments more. More depth. More breath. More intention. Less fussing. Go slower. Be tender. I pray I can make these things habits NOW while I have fuel, so when the grief goes away, the good from it will have been permanently built into our life. (march 14)
One week ago, had a midwife appointment in the morning. "3-4 cm," she said, "see you tonight or tomorrow." She was spot on. She knew more than me, and I'm 6 babies in! I didn't even realize I was in full on labor all that afternoon... A week later, the bruises on my arms from hep lock attempts are purpling and changing shape, but I'm insanely grateful for the water birth I finally experienced after 11 years of wondering. (Barely made it in in time, but I GOT IT!) A desire fulfilled is a tree of life. And a second son is a love multiplier. We are all in baby bliss in our little brown house. Here I get to nurse again, submit to rest again, exercise more wisdom, grow into more patience and letting go, remember that like God, part of my identity is THE NOURISHER. We are turning to gold. (Hope to have complete birth story written out soon on the blog!) xoxo let your children drive you to love today. (apr. 5)
We are trying to get ready to go camping with some friends of ours. There was a peeing-in-the bed situation last night, and I woke up at 9 AM feeling all foggy and hung over, and following those mom goose chases: gotta get coffee. sees the peed-on lovey blankie on the couch, starts laundry, remembers children need to eat, but MUST clean stove before cooking bc it's awful, goes to pantry to replenish baking soda so stove can be cleaned, sees the wheely bug newly fixed but kids say the wheel is jammed, spend 20 minutes cutting hair out of the wheel. Oh. me-gunness. Well we finally accomplished both coffee and breakfast and put the 10 lbs of potatoes into the crock pot for tonight's soup. I need another cup of coffee. And clearly, it's time to put on Napoleon Dynamite.(may 30)
Piglet: "Supposing a tree fell, Pooh, when we were underneath it?"
Pooh: "Supposing it didn't."
Piglet was comforted by this.
A mother's job can be defined in being the one who says "supposing it didn't." -June 24
Shout out to Golden. Elegant, intuitive, compassionate. But also silly.
😜 Cause that's good and right when you're 8 and life's great. Blaise there, he's a snuggla. He will cling to people's shoulders or clothes or jewelry when they hold him, like a koala babe. He's just a happy little potato, and charmed by simply EVERYTHING. 
👉How's your summer going? I guess all of America is smack dab in the full swing of it by now. 👉We just finished up our year's documentation for school and are still finishing math, so... We're still waiting for it to really begin. 
😁 Homeschool goals already shaping up for next year though. This year ended up somehow being way too math focused and I am discussing with @bibliobites how to BEST stick to the Charlotte Mason standard of 20 FOCUSED minutes per day. Good work vs. long or multitudinous work, and eliminating dawdling. I think I also need to re-read Home Education. Summerishness over here is already so fun, lots of family games and read-alouds in the studio and hanging out with Daddy in the evening while he paints. Oh and we FINALLY managed to meet up with the local homeschool group at a park! 
😂 #friendgoals #localgoals Nearly everyone I love that likes us too (😜) lives uber far away. So happy Monday! -July 17
"Double trouble," the man sitting on his stoop pronounced as he saw me pulling Pippa and Silver by in the little blue wagon on our evening walk. But... He hadn't seen the baby lying in Pippa's lap, and should I tell him that there are three more at home? That guy doesn't know the half of it! I'd better not break his brain. I stroll away, smiling, the little girls piping up in shrill, indignant voices behind me, "We not trouble!" Trouble? Indeed no. You're my treasures. And I have a lot of them.
Blaise is making friends with a very tolerant kitty. 
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