Tuesday, September 29, 2015

// Where We Wander: Tranquility Ridge //

"Those who dwell among the beauties and mysteries of the earth are never alone or weary of life."
(Rachel Carson) 

Have you ever taken one of those personality tests?  Your results are letters and you're always like, "oh my goodness!  That's so me!"  Well, whenever I take those personality tests I'm told that I scored 100% introvert.  And I am.  I know I am 100% introvert because I am not understand by many and I have nearly complete breakdowns after a week of zero alone time.  

I've noticed an interesting occurrence, though.  If I haven't had any moments of solitude lately and our family decides to go on one of our wanderings, even though I am around other humans the forest still fills up my solitude longing.  My kids could be screaming out their findings the whole way, but yet the stillness of the woods gives seems soothe me still.  I am thankful for the woods and their coverings.  I feel safe; unknown for a moment and the trees eyes don't cause me the exhaustion that a crowd tends to.  I am home, in a way.  

A blue feather stills us.  It's a feather, yet it's a treasure and my boy's recognize this phenomenon.  You see, it's not rarity that makes a thing a treasure; it's the value upon the heart.  Introverts know this intuitively, I believe. We are fashioned to find what other's overlook and I hope my kids don't find my introverted tendencies to be annoying as they get older, but they see the wisdom in the stopping.  

At times I think, "pinch me!"  I cannot believe my luck.  I have a family whose time together is so often spend exploring and looking for feathers, yellow leaves and rocks that sparkle.  I sparkle in my eyes when I thin of it and I'm just so happy!  xx

Asher's shoes are by Zimmerman Shoes 

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Thursday, September 17, 2015


"Every day is a god, each day is a god, and holiness holds forth in time. I worship each god, I praise each day splintered down and wrapped in time like a husk, a husk of many colors spreading, at dawn fast over the mountains split.

I wake in a god. I wake in arms holding my quilt, holding me as best they can inside my quilt."

Annie Dillard "Holy the Firm"

It's as if finding a fields are a treasure; golden, speckled with purples, yellows and green.  But golden!  With their dense coverings.  They surprise you easily.  We assume we can trample, but there are hidden waters, animal homes and reeds higher than us.  We walk through as visitors.  We greet the day in golden fields. Time moves slowly; birds fly swiftly.  

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Sunday, September 13, 2015

// Thoughts on Elliot's Long Hair //

        We'd be at the store and hear the familiar words, "She's beautiful."  Sometimes we would correct the admirer, but always kindly.  I was never mad at the mistake; there are worse things to be called, I'd always say.  Yes, Elliot is a boy- but I did not want him being called a girl to teach him something negative about femininity.  I did not want him to think, "yuck!  I'm not a girl!"  (this goes along with sayings such as "you throw like a girl."  "Don't be a pussy." etc)  But instead, we'd talk about how boys have long hair too, yet people thought long, luxurious locks belonged to women.  Elliot would exclaim, "so, silly!"  

        Elliot proved that wasn't the truth, because his hair was long, silky and had the most stunning gold, white and sandy highlights I've ever seen.  People would stop us and say, "Those highlights!"  He'd smile and I'd agree.  Often, if they had a child they'd say, "How old is she?"  I'd say, "He's four.  He's a boy, actually."  I'd always smile big and reassure the mother that we were not offended at all.  We understood.  The child would continue to call him a girl, even loudly exclaiming, 'No, it's a girl!" There was no offense, but it made me think.  Why were the children so adamant?  So absolutely sure his long hair proved he was actually a girl?  Because they didn't know any other boys with long hair.  I was proud that Elliot could show them something different; that maybe it would lead to a conversation between the mother and the child.

We did not grow his hair as a political statement or to prove any point on gender, stereotypes, etc.  We grew his hair because it looked awesome, he did not want us to cut it and to be completely honest- We didn't want to pay for a haircut! Laziness, toddler determination and those damn beautiful highlights were the culprit!  But still, we were accused of trying to turn him into a girl (by family members!)  Others would nervously tell strangers, "He's all boy!"  As if they were trying to make up for the embarrassment of others thinking he was a girl.  But it was their embarrassment and not Elliot's.  Elliot didn't care because he was just being himself.  And that's where I figured out my own lesson through all of this:

It's not about telling my boys they can't like trucks.  It's about not shaming them when they play with a pink doll.  It's not about telling them they can't be wild and rough; that they can't wrestle and get dirty.  It's about not telling them being sensitive is a "girly trait."  Or that they like trucks BECAUSE they are boys. And when they try to breastfeed their doll we won't tell them to stop because they are a boy - we will praise them for being such a good daddy to their doll.   We don't tell them what they CAN'T be (as long as it's not harmful to others)  but instead let them figure that out through gentle guidance and encouragement.

I know some of you may read this and feel I'm making a huge deal out of something small.  "It's just long hair!" is what you might say.  And I completely agree.  It's just hair.  It's absolutely not defining of their identity.  As I mentioned before- we never made it a big deal.  I never even imagined it would be an issue or cause for contention within our extended family.  Yet, we kept our focus on Elliot.  We directed our questions towards him and let his hair be an extension of his will and a lesson in teaching body ownership.  It's his hair!  And letting a four year old make the decision about it's length will not harm anyone.  (As long as it's not him doing the cutting!)  So, when he asked to "cut a little bit, mommy?"  we said "of course."

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Thursday, September 3, 2015


The morning birds are singing morning songs.  The chipmunks rustle the brush and an occasional car drives down the road and past our house.  whoosh.  It's quiet now and I sit on my rock.  These are my morning intentions.  My positive thoughts and the start of my beautiful birth I will have in March.  It starts in the mornings.

These lovely affirmation cards arrived from Lauren last week and I am absolutely in love with them.  Not only is the art mesmerizing, but it's truly been a path to more positive thinking in my own life.  I've struggled immensely with morning sickness and any positive thoughts pull me out of the fog that is nausea and into a place where I can envision that beautiful, tiny baby in my uterus; growing stronger every day.

I believe in the power of our thoughts and the strength of our words.  When we can see it in our mind, then it becomes a reality.  I have a lot more knowledge of setting intentions this time around and I'm excited to see how it affects my overall birth experience.

You can find these cards and more of Lauren's work here.

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