Archive | musings RSS feed for this section

quiet.

12 May

I know it has been around here. Two weeks have gone by since the big celebration, with nary a photograph in sight. I did promise them, and they’re coming in time. Truth is, I want to do the day justice, and I simply haven’t had (made?) the space to make that happen yet. It will bring me great joy to do so very soon–I hope not to disappoint.

If I’m being honest, these past few weeks have just lent themselves more to journaling between the pages of my favorite moleskine than plodding out the components of my days for the blogosphere at large. Maybe someday, but not right now.

So this is just to say that I’m still here, and still wanting to pour myself into things like blogging and sharing and loving life publicly, in the hopes of spurring on others to love life a little more, too.

The beautiful thing about this time of quiet is that I am stacking up 1,001 ideas to share with you at a later juncture. All kinds of things, really, from recipes to outings to party ideas to mama revelations. At the moment, they’re all swirling like a collection of Pinterest boards, cut up into confetti and shaken in a snow globe. I can only hope the result will be as pretty at some point. :)

Rest assured (although it’s been longer than I’d normally like to turn around a report back) that homemade buntings are still hanging about in doorways throughout the house, paper straws still fancy up the china cabinet, and a gigantic, hand-painted Eric Carle scene still graces the living room wall in remembrance of Henry’s 1st birthday bash. We cleaned up all of the cake, but some of the party just had to keep going on a bit longer. Besides, who doesn’t love festive fabric flags coloring up the house in the Springtime?!

A few mini tutorials, lots of photos, and my recap of select favorite moments from the day coming soon…perhaps even before the weekend is out! I can’t stay quiet forever…just for a tad bit more of some much needed time.

love from my corner of the universe,

mm

the art of good enough.

16 Apr

Most days when I wake up, my list is far longer than what I’ll have time for in the next 24 hours. I know you can relate. There’s always something else we need to do, want to do, have to do, meant to do…and it never seems possible to check everything off before adding a whole host of new to-dos to the pile.

For the most part, I’m motivated by tasks and the prospect of crossing them off. As someone with a perfectionist-type personality, nothing feels better than seeing the check marks down the line or crumpling up a completed list to toss in the trash. When I’ve crossed something off, it’s only because it’s completely finished–no half-done chores for this girl. That is, up until a year or so ago. It only took me the better part of 28 years on this earth and several years in the workforce to figure out how to best manage my time, to “multitask” (if that’s truly possible), and to plot out a course of action that would leave me satisfied with my movement forward at the end of the day.

Enter mommyhood.

Not even just mommyhood, if I’m being realistic, but pregnancy and being a vessel for a tiny human being…then growing into a blimpish sort of shape that only felt more and more surreal until…experiencing the most physically challenging feat of my life (though I loved it!) and then suddenly becoming a parent (to a tiny and loud and needy little person who demanded all of my attention at every hour of every day for a good number of months). And then there was the whole part about being overjoyed and overwhelmed by nearly every nuance life had to offer for a while, until things started to adjust back to a new normal–you know, the one where work was suddenly home and home was suddenly work and I never had to put on makeup or nice clothes if I didn’t want to (but I wanted to!), because there was really nowhere I needed to go. Then, living room walls and time cuddled on the couch with our precious bundle started to close in on me a little bit, because they were mostly all I saw and did for those first few weeks (months) as a new mom and THAT was overwhelming in a different way.

Did I even keep lists at this point? I’m trying to remember. And yet I recall so very little. Thank goodness I blogged so much in the wee hours then :)

So where does that leave me now, this much further on down the road? With an amazing almost-one year old, a life that has settled into itself (in some ways) over the past number of months, and a bajillion lists that I’m trying to cross off and accomplish and achieve because I feel so much like myself again after all this time and this is what I do. Or is it?

Turns out, life right now isn’t nearly as much about lists and all as it is about being present in the moment, about being “mama” when Henry needs me, about being a wife who can listen and a homemaker who manages to keep things mostly tidy (but sometimes, not as much as I’d like). There are one hundred and one to-do’s in my head as I write this, and none of them are on paper. I’m trying to admit to myself that writing them down would be a little easier (because my memory is not 100% of what it was pre-munchkin), but in my mind, writing them down commits me to them–and that’s a whole different stress altogether.

My grand conclusion? I continue to need to work on my ability to be ok with GOOD ENOUGH. For me–and perhaps some of you, it’s an art that I’m nowhere near perfecting. Good enough feels like settling…because it is. But settling, when it brings peace or calm or less heartburn, is actually a good thing, right? I’m just still working on embracing that fact.

Someone is having a birthday next week, and with it, I’m feeling the need/responsibility/burning desire to celebrate him in the grandest way possible, as any mama does when her baby turns one. No doubt it will be a day surrounded by people who love him and who can hardly believe a year has gone by because they’ve watched him change and grow right alongside me. And certainly, the party we’re throwing will be full of fun things and cake and good food and such, but the details in between might just have to be…whatever they are by then. This admittance doesn’t mean I’ll be trying less over the next week to prepare, but it does mean that I’ll be making the effort to ease the stress that undoubtedly could accompany such an undertaking for someone like me.

I’ll be taking a few more deep breaths, that’s for sure. And working hard to keep the right amount of perspective in the mix as I go: Henry will only remember how we loved him in this season–not how perfect or imperfect the celebration of a certain birthday turned out to be.

Oh, the art of good enough. I’m chasing after you…just as soon as I jot you down on my list ;)

in practice,

mm

p.s. Stay tuned! Birthday details are underway, and this space is gonna fill up with them if I can help it!

a letter for springtime.

4 Apr

Dear Gramma,

I picked up the phone to call you today. Hank and I were on one of our sunny afternoon drives back from visiting with friends, and for just a moment, I thought about how you’d answer and we’d talk the rest of the way home. “And how’s Henry?” you would have asked me–remarking just how big he’s getting in all of his pictures and how much he looks like Jason more and more all the time. I’d tell you about Henry’s birthday party (“invite’s in the mail!”) and all the pomp and circumstance we’re planning for our little bug who’s nearly walking and talks all the day long.

Undoubtedly, we would have moved on to the weather next–how beautiful a Spring it’s been, and what a perfect day and temperature for this early on in April.  You’d fill me on family things, who’s traveling where and moving when, who’s expecting, had a baby, been sick, getting better. And I would laugh at the little things, all the while drinking in the time with you down to the very last drop–the “I love you, Gramma” and the “Love you, too, Sweetie,” and the click goodbye.

Everywhere I turn this week, it seems, you are there. Present in the tulips standing boldly in the sunshine, the robin perched on the fence through the kitchen window, the wafting scent of perfect Korean Spice blossoms, uncurling on every bush in the front yard. You’ve felt so close in moments, I could almost burst. And more than I wanted to imagine it–over the quiet moments when I’m left to think all alone, over the sweet spaces when I look at Henry or sit with Jason and recall the promises I made to you that I’d, “Be a good mom…Be a good wife,” I am overcome by your absence. In all of the beautiful things around me that you carefully taught me to love, the sting of missing you is suddenly so great…and I hope–in a good way, that somehow you know. I hope now you can see the indelible mark that you made on my heart over all those years.

Easter is only four days away, and as it arrives, I’m left to remember Easter afternoon last year–how we were talking on the phone when my labor with Henry began. How many beautiful days like that one have we taken to celebrate together as a family, always drawing near in the ways we could to be together? I’m so thankful we have so many to recount…I’m afraid I don’t know yet how to have them without you.

I keep trying to hold back the emotion that comes with great loss, as if there are rules about how we grieve and remember–how we carry on when a piece of ourselves feels broken off, washed away. I catch myself warding off tears and wondering why I’m trying so hard to swallow it down instead of letting it just come over me like a wave. I’m not perfect in any other way, so why would I attempt at being flawless in this? I know that you would understand and tell me it’s ok. You’d probably know before I ever got to you that something was the matter, have cookies and coffee waiting for me when I arrived so we could just talk. Just talk. We really knew how to do that, you and I. Didn’t we? Goodness, I miss you. I really, really do.

I’m so thankful for all of the reminders God is sending me along the way as time goes on–even if my breath catches when a butterfly lands and lingers nearby, or when the tears come unexpectedly as Henry and I dance around the living room. It’s a good thing, how many sweet instances bring me right back to who you were and what you loved and exactly what you meant to me. Thank you for all of the ways you always (and still do. See?!) brought me joy.

a bushel and a peck,

molly

status update.

16 Mar

My world has been devoid of Facebook for 24 days, and I can honestly say that I only miss it slightly. What humors me (and frightens at the same time), is that I consistently find myself thinking in status updates. Lacking a place to deposit them, I’ve come to terms with the fact that if I think in status updates on a regular basis, I probably needed the “break” more than I realized.

When it comes down to it, Facebook connects me to a world of adults I would otherwise have little contact with on a daily basis. Status updates, I’m fairly certain, are a stay-at-home mom’s way of knowing someone else is out there, relating to the latest nap frustration or diaper snafu. It’s not the only way we connect, of course, but it’s the most accessible between playtimes and feedings, household chores and mommy demands. I never imagined it would become such a community, nor did I imagine it would turn into the “fluff” of life–so easily accessible from my phone, whenever there was a break in the action.

What on earth did we ever used to do with our down time? ;)

I know it would be rash to delete my FB account entirely at the end of this Lenten season, but it’s somewhat temping when I consider how much else I’ve done, read, rested, researched and reflected since the fast began. I have been missing birthdays left and right, which makes me feel like a bad friend, and on multiple occasions now, I’ve missed the latest viral fill-in-the-blank due to my absence. Gasp! I am so out of touch. Henry may one day be mortified to know how very “in the dark” I’ve become.

To live without the book of faces feels oddly primitive. Kind of a turning back of time in my life to a place where I once had whole minutes or hours to devour a good book or to go to bed before the wee hours crept along. And yet, here I am, and I’m thankful for it. I needed the discipline for a bit, and I still need it for the next few weeks. I’m hoping that by then, FB and I will have gone to our corners–and that we’ll be able to renegotiate on more reasonable terms. How did we ever get here in the first place? Sometimes (ok, a lot of the time) the world we live in (and the things we/I spend our time doing in it) really scares me.

Thank goodness God honors even the little steps we take. It’s a beautiful thing.

The valuable gem I would have likely shared in that ghostly status window tonight? I just found out, after 8 years of ordering pizza with the man, that my husband orders green peppers over red for the color. Hm. And to think I’ve been ordering green peppers unnecessarily all this time…

There. Now that feels better.

living in a status free state for a while longer,

mm

this is the day…

11 Mar

…that the Lord has made! We will rejoice and be glad in it!

It was a surreal, out of doors kind of day for this time of year, and we were so thankful to be able to enjoy it. Henry was a bit small last year to take advantage of swings and slides and things, but if mom and dad have anything to say about it this time around, he’s not going to miss a one:) We ventured out for an afternoon walk with the stroller and Kruger in tow, and Hank made his park playground debut. From the pictures, it’s clear that the grown-ups in the fam appreciated the experience more than HD, but we trust he’ll warm up to the idea before long. With all of the spring, summer and fall stretched ahead of us, there’s no doubt we’ll have a jungle gym junkie on our hands before the year is out!

After our (brief) trip to the park, we stopped by to visit with a few friends in the neighborhood, met an oh-so-sweet brand new baby, checked out a few “for sale” signs here and there (inquiring minds. nope, we wouldn’t think of abandoning the little blue house), and rounded out the walk with a pink lemonade purchase from a few budding entrepreneurs (they even gave Kruger a complimentary dog treat:). Arriving home, we hopped in the car for a trip to our favorite local ice cream establishment (how we’ve missed it over the winter!) and headed out to the beach for a little gazing. Who knew March would bring so much in the way of warm, wonderful days spent doing the things we love most?!

It was such a treat to catch a glimpse of the months ahead, and such a perfect way to spend a Sunday afternoon. A little Spring in my life does this chica one whole heck of a lot of good!

A few of my favorite (and our silly) moments from the day:

What a blessing!

headed to bed all the better for fresh air and sunshine,

mm

and my burden, light.

18 Feb

This is not the first time I’ve come to the blog at the end of the day and found this verse on my mind: “Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.” Mt. 11:28-30

After two emotionally challenging days, I need to be reminded. Not just for my own sake, though. There is comfort in knowing that this verse applies for anyone who will embrace it–dear friends, family, and strangers alike.

Come to me. A perfectly simple invitation. Come. Bring yourself. Bring the junk from your day, the mess you’ve made or the mess you’re in. Bring the hurts and the triumphs, the hard stuff, the stuff you can’t handle on your own. Just come.

All you who are weary and burdened. This is an all inclusive gig. No one gets left out here. Are you exhausted of something? Are you weary from the everyday, the routine, the rhythm? Or maybe the non-ordinary, super hard stuff? Can’t get something or someone off your mind or heart? Feel a bent towards righting an injustice or helping a complete stranger? Then this means you.

And I will give you rest. “I will,” Christ promises. Perhaps not eight hours of solid sleep or a king-sized bed, but real, valuable rest. Your spirit will be refreshed. You won’t run out of steam and have to give up. His grace will be sufficient for you. You heart will be well again. You will always have what you need, when you need it.

Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart. Christ will be careful with you. Pursuing Him and leaning on Him will make anything easier–if you’ll let it. He will teach you how to focus on what he has shown you, training you to become more and more like Himself in the process.

And you will find rest for your souls. No, really. This is so important it’s stated twice. No one gets to be the energizer bunny without sufficient rest. When you lean into God, He gives you strength for the next step. And then the next. And the next. You don’t have to know how things will turn out in the end, because God already has you covered. He has written and is writing your story as you sit at your computer/read your phone this very minute.

For my yoke is easy and my burden is light. Pursuing me, following my promptings, resting in my promises for your life, and opening up your hand to me to release your troubles into my care–these are all ways to experience my peace. Ask me for what you need. Share your heartache. Pray over and over again. Praise me in advance for what you’re trusting I will do. Go confidently in the direction I lead you. Leave your burdens with me, at the cross.

I am so thankful tonight for these promises from God, and for friends and family who become the Body of Christ around us when we need to be loved, reassured, prayed for, hugged tightly and encouraged in just the right moment. Things don’t always feel ok, or fair, or comprehensible. And we don’t get to have all of the answers, as much as we may want them. But we do know this: when we are weary or burdened and we ask for help, God will give us rest.

may it be so,

mm

eats, smiles and reads.

12 Feb

Henry really knows how to start the day out on the right foot–with a healthy breakfast and a good book, of course!

And when my morning begins with this smiling face looking back at me, my day is usually off on the right foot, too :)

one lucky mama,

mm

rest.

11 Feb

Taking a little break from the blog this evening in the interest of a very long night’s sleep…

hope you all tuck in well tonight, too :)

mm

scout: an addendum.

7 Feb

So last night, Henry created his top ten list (with a little help) and made it public. Today, he was nearly devastated to realize that he’d neglected to include one very important and must have item–his pal, Scout. Scout joined us on Christmas morning, and his sing-songy, upbeat, familiar personality has become daily entertainment for the whole family. Not only does Scout plug into our computer to add new and dynamic numbers to his impressive repertoire, he also knows Henry’s NAME. This is big time. I wish you could see the look on Henry’s face every time Scout says, “Henry?!” with more of a question in his tone than an exclamation. We joke that Henry will forever introduce himself as “Henry?!” as he grows up, but it’s endearing and adorable and sweet nonetheless. HD can be busy with any other toy in the room, but when Scout gets going, all eyes are on him. We’ve memorized the songs and sing them around the house as if they’ve topped the charts. Best $20 some odd we spent this Christmas season.

Currently, Scout’s favorite animal is a cheetah. His favorite color is green, and his favorite food is “yogurt!” But of course that’s all subject to change. Scout will grow with Henry over the next 2+ years, which we think is pretty neat. And best of all, he’s a puppy. An adorable, green puppy with an irresistible personality and the cutest hiccups and puppy barks a stuffed animal could ever muster.

So there you have it. The top eleven list. Who has a top eleven list? Henry does. Because Scout really is something special. Trust us.

on hank’s behalf :),

mm

henry’s pickle face.

4 Feb

20120204-210858.jpg

Gosh, I love him! (And believe it or not, he absolutely loved the pickle:)

don’t know where he gets it from…the face or the love of pickles ;)

mm

← Older Entries

Follow

Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.

Join 297 other followers