Old Spaces

On Sunday we rearranged our entire room. This was not a normal "move some furniture around" kind of project. We are getting ready for Daisy's arrival (I know - I still have 4 months of gestating to go!), so this was a big deal. Since we are having a home birth we needed to make room for the birthing tub. I really have no idea how big it is, but I'm pretty sure the tub+my many birth attendants+my midwife will equal a giant need for more space.

We also have a few outlets that have been sparking. Creepy, I know. Lucky me - my husband is a talented handyman. He knocked that out in about 10 minutes. And then there was the deal with the cable. Moving the TV cabinet to the other side of the room meant moving the cable. Once again - I have that handyman on call. Still, it was a long and frustrating day.

At the end of it all I was achingly pregnant so I laid down on my comfy bed. I realized as soon as I laid down that I was laying in the same exact spot I had been laying in when I discovered my husband's deep addiction. It's been 3 years since we last lived in my parent's house. It's been 3 years of sorrow and yearning and loss. It's been 3 years of victory and hope in small, significant doses. And, here I am in the very same space I had been in the last time I was pregnant. But this time it was so so different.

I sat in the realization for a moment, remembering how my life had crashed down around me that day. And then I thought about God's mercy. He never half way heals us. He's all the way or nothing at all. This is how full force my God is: not only have things been changing and healing over the last 3 years, but I will give birth to my sweet girl in this very room. In the same space that has housed such sadness and destruction I will take part in something holy and sacred.

My last birth was traumatic and scary. I was alone and lost. This birth will be full and safe. And it will be here, redeeming this space; redeeming a lost piece of my marriage.

I'm ready :)

The Prayer

A friend of mine posted this on facebook this morning and I just kept reposting it.

The more I read it the more I FEEL it.

It's stunning and true and deeply powerful.

So I want to share it again :)

"You called, you shouted, and you broke through my deafness. You flashed, you shone, and you dispelled my blindness. You breathed your fragrance on me; I drew in breath and now I pant for you. I have tasted you, now I hunger and thirst for more. You touched me, and I burned for your peace." - St....Augustine

I've been really truly contemplating what is actually Biblical vs. what is tradition in the Christian faith.

This small quote seemed to stir up something ancient and universal for me. THIS is the God who was and is and will be. This is the great and mysterious Creator. This is the Unexplainable.

May we ALL be moved to hunger and thirst for more; to search and pray with an open heart. May we discover what is essential to our faith and be relieved of what is merely causing our ears to grow deaf, our eyes to grow blind and our breath to grow short.

Courage

I am not a fan of self portraits. They make me uncomfortable. I imagine people standing in their bathrooms, with their cell phones, pouting into their mirrors. It seems more silly and vain than artistic.

However, I HAVE seen self portraits that are VERY moving. Artistic and meaningful photos taken during moments of self reflection.

I remember seeing a photo my cousin had taken for a photography class. It was intimate and beautiful. It was also the first time I didn't resent someone for taking a photo of themselves (I know. Really, I have no business judging people for taking photos of themselves :)).

Since I've been SO miserable with my expanding body, and since I don't want to pass through yet another pregnancy without any photos to look back on, I've taken on a photographic project.

The dreaded self portrait.

I am basing my entire project on this one quote:

"Courage is about doing what you're afraid to do. There can be no courage unless you're scared." (Eddie Rickenbacke)

I don't want to spend the rest of my life avoiding the things that scare me.

I want to adventure. Adventure takes courage. And "there can be no courage unless you're scared." :)

I'm scared of what I see reflected in my own self portraits. I'm scared of what they say about me. I'm scared that I will never feel joy in what I see.

So, I'm stepping COMPLETELY outside of myself to capture the truth of myself.

And I'm posting these photos because that scares me even more.

So, here's to Jesus.

Here's to the the hope of freedom.

Here's to fear and courage.

Let It Be

What is it about being lonely that is SO gripping?

Why is it so powerful? It's only a feeling... it's only perspective.

I'm pretty sure that, most times, lonely isn't really about being alone...

It's probably more about being forgotten... or lost.

And most people... okay, me... can be completely surrounded by people and still feel lonely.

It's weird, isn't it?

I've been thinking about it a lot today. I wish I were the kind of creature that could detach from emotions. I wish I could shrug my shoulders with a great big, "Oh well. What's next?"

Too bad. I'm not.

Instead I've got to figure out how to sit in it and let it be okay.

Let lonely be lonely.

Matthew 15

I have 3 weeks left in my 2nd trimester and I'll be honest - I'm starting to feel enormously fat.

I'd like to say that I am one of those happily expanding mamas. I would LOVE to enjoy every extra pound, knowing that it is nourishing and protecting my baby. But I'm not. Instead, I do what must be done out of love for my daughter. I stay healthy to keep her healthy.

I gained almost 60 pounds when I was pregnant with Aravis and 45 when I was pregnant with Judah. I am desperately trying to avoid the scale this time around because my body "sickness" is grappling for control.

I weigh myself when I am at my midwife appointments and not at all when I am at home. I am eating as much high protein, vegan, fresh food as I can stomach (and, as of today, Trader Joe oreos just for balance :)) I go to the gym 5 times a week for yoga, pilates and the treadmill. I KNOW I am healthy.

But, still, I look in the mirror and I see things growing. Hello! I'm PREGNANT!

Oooooooh that old evil disease of self hatred. Why am I so surprised that it is looming over the joy of my sweet, growing girl?

Yesterday I happened to read one line in the Message version of Matthew 15...

"Listen, and take this to heart. It's not what you swallow that pollutes your life, but what you vomit up."

I get this now.

It's not just what I choose to swallow - the sickness, the lies, the distorted image in my mirror - that pollutes my life. It's MORE SO what comes back up. It's what comes out of my heart, my mouth, my actions. It's the way it affects my life. And it doesn't feel too good when it's on it's way back up.

Even though I haven't, for even a moment, given in to the physical manifestation of my self rejection, I am still living under the banner of it. Waving over my entire life is a thick, dark sheet of joyless decision. I have already decided that I am completely unacceptable. I've swallowed that mindset. I've absorbed it. And it makes me sick.

We aren't designed for death and sin. Those things are foreign substances. They are toxic. But they are constantly set before us.

And it's not just what we swallow that pollutes us. It's what we vomit up.

Sick Days and Adventure

So, today is day 5 of Kindergarten and the famous school germs have gotten ahold of my cute little Kindergartner. Poor Aravis has already missed a day of school due to a nasty cold. To be honest, I'm okay with that :)

She's been a little sniffly for the last few days, but last night I heard her growling in her sleep (Not snoring really - but growling. Not in a creepy way. It was pretty cute). By the time she woke up this morning the girl was coughing andboogery. So I called her school and took my kids on a morning hike to fuel up on some vitamin d.

This is NOT the time of year I like to hike. It was quickly approaching 100 degrees at 8:30 as we headed to our favorite reserve, but we were well stocked on water and wearing as little clothing as possible.

For some reason, as soon as we hit the trail, Judah was clinging to my hand - afraid of snakes!

He's never been afraid of ANYTHING on a hike before and we've never even seen a snake out there, so I was a little confused, but happy to hold his cute little hand.Aravis marched ahead of us scouting out the land. She was pretty certain our goal was to climb to the top of the mountain (didn't happen).

Halfway through our hike I realized that I had been hearing a sound behind the loud cicadas the entire time. Sigh. Rattles. We'd been tromping along all this time and had - not once - heard that famous rattling. So, we turned around and hightailed it for the car.

The second half of our trip was not as relaxed. But I didn't freak out (still kind of shocked that I didn't). I just told them to listen to the sound of the rattling and move away from it. We made it back to our air conditioned, enclosed car and drove the short distance to The Coffee Bean and Tea Leaf for some iced tea and green juice.

Lesson learned: trust the two year old.

First Day

Day one of Kindergarten - down.

Let me just say - again - that I am actually VERY happy for Aravis. She is MADE for school and loved every second of her first day.

It was not so enjoyable for me.

I loved getting her ready - braiding her hair, eating a special breakfast (made by my mama), watching her help her daddy make her lunch, and photographing every moment between waking up and leaving her at school for the first time.

Joe and I got to stay with her for the first hour and she wanted me to stay next to her and hold her hand the whole time.

When the kids were instructed to sit on the carpet while the parents sat at their desks I wanted to hold her on my lap and squeeze her tight.

When it was time to kiss her goodbye I wanted to pick her up and make a run for the door.

When we were walking back to our car and I saw her class walking in a line way across campus I wanted to call her name until she saw me and BEG her to come home with me.

I waited (so impatiently) for 12:20 (thank GOD today was only a half day!) to roll around so I could buckle Judah into his car seat and drive the 4 minutes to pick my girl up from the longest first day of school ever.

And, when I saw her walking towards me with her Hello Kitty backpack slung across her shoulder and her High School Musical lunchbox in her little 5 year old hand, I breathed a giant sigh of relief. She climbed into the car and my heart relaxed a little.

She did not have one scary, lonely or shy moment. She made friends, ate her lunch in the stinky cafeteria and learned the rules of Kindergarten. She can't wait to go back tomorrow.

She also agreed to cuddle on the couch with me for a whole hour.

Later I took a two hour nap.

I know I sound like a crazy mom. I get it. I'm a little nuts today.

But it's over. She's officially in school. And she's still my little girl. She still wants to come home and cuddle.

Big, big sigh of relief.

We'll see how tomorrow goes...

Monday Is Coming....

Monday marks a significant change in our house.

Aravis, my stunningly clever 5 1/2 year old, starts Kindergarten.

All day Kindergarten.

Oooooooh I am sad. So sad.

Don't get me wrong - I am SO happy for my excited little learner! She can't WAIT for school! Since the moment she could talk she has been asking questions, attempting letters and numbers, science and art. She is READY. This girl will be in school for a long, long time. It's in her blood.

But, like every mother sending her firstborn off on the first day of many, many years of every weekday spent away from her, I am grieving the loss of my sweet girl's presence. Maybe even more so because I know that our lives will change even more when Levi is born.

When I was pregnant with Judah my marriage was sludging through hell. I was miserable. I was sick. I was exhausted. And I was incredibly OCD. If you know me - you know that I am anal about things being clean and in their place. It sets something at peace in me. And, the last time I was pregnant, I chose to escape my marriage hell by cleaning ALL THE TIME.

In the midst of my constant cleaning, my incredible sadness and the most basic, yet exhausting, symptoms of pregnancy, I lost my little 2 year old. We were constantly together, always always together. I made sure she was fed, clothed, bathed, read to, listened to.... but something changed between us. I was so busy surviving that I lost some of the unique connection we had shared since her birth.

And, in the 2 1/2 years since then, I have been trying to get it back. I have prayed and worked at coming back to that space of deep connection with my daughter. I have hungered for peace between us - knowing that somehow we are existing in separate spaces.

And, in the last few months, I feel like I've started to clear away the cobwebs of my past sadness enough to connect to her again. I've made different choices in this pregnancy. Sometimes the dishes don't get done at night. Sometimes the laundry doesn't get folded for a day or two. Sometimes we lay in bed and watch movies. Sometimes we go to Subway for lunch when we're out running errands.

It's been an intentional act of giving to my children; hoping that they will feel more than loved - hoping that they will feel embraced.

So, the thought of my girl - the one I have SO fought for these past few years - going to school every day is almost heartbreaking. I've just barely gotten her back.

All of my sadness aside, I have watched her glow with anticipation. She has her Hello Kitty backpack ready to go - her High School Musical lunchbox waiting for her first lunch. She has school supplies and new shoes. She's lost her first tooth just in time for her first year of school.

I took both Aravis and Judah to a movie this morning - a rare treat. I just wanted one more daytime fun trip with BOTH of my kids before everything changes. Tomorrow,Aravis and I are going on a "date" with both of her grandmas and her Aunt Melly. We're getting pedicures, lunch and a new outfit. Monday morning my brother Tanner is coming over for a special breakfast to seeAravis off to school. Joe and I will go for the first hour of school and then we'll leave her there - this brave, happy little thing. She'll start Kindergarten.

I love my daughter. She is so complex - so unlike me in so many ways. She is bright and has the most amazing memory. She multiplies in her head. She can draw detailed and beautiful things. She loves to paint. She loves to play with suchenthusiasm that she comes back to me sweaty and red faced. She loves her family in an incredibly deep way. Sometimes I hear her praying or singing to Jesus when she's all alone in her room. And she giggles. She giggles all the time. She even gets in trouble for giggling when she issupposed to be asleep. :)

Every mama must feel this way. I'm certainly not alone. But I really, really wish I could keep her here with me forever. :)

Balance... again....

Balance. Balance. Balance.

I write those words almost monthly.

If there is one consistent pattern in my life it is this:

I am frequently finding myself out of balance.

The more aware I become of myself - both inwardly and outwardly - the more aware I become of the need to be balanced.

And, just when I think I've mastered the delicate arrangement of balancing my life, I realize that I am off kilter again.

And so the pattern repeats.

Balanced and unbalanced.

Sometimes I am peaceful and completely in sync with the life I am living; I am joyfully satisfied as a mama, as a wife, as a photographer, as a Holy Yoga practitioner, as a teacher, as a co-bearer of the responsibilities of planet earth. I breathe fresh air no matter where I am and I soak in the beauty of just being.

And sometimes I am discontent and anxious; I struggle to move my body and my spirit. I am easily frustrated and am prone to isolation. Everything around me is stale and gray.

Right now I am somewhere in between. I am sitting on a threshold, so aware of what lies behind me and not quite certain of what stretches before me. But I am fully and completely aware of the fact that I am internally dizzy.

I don't have my balance.

I am learning to be small. I am learning to be taught rather than teach. I am learning to set aside the things I think SHOULD be done in order to connect with my family. I am learning to forgive when I really want to be angry. I am learning to admit when I am wrong and to ask for forgiveness.

Somewhere in there, in the dark stillness of my threshold, lies balance.

And I NEED balance.