Speeding

Last week I got a speeding ticket for driving 10 miles an hour over the posted speed limit. Beyond being vexed about the fine and disappointed in myself both for speeding and being caught, it has made me consider some things.

Mostly, the concept of speeding itself. Speeding while driving -- and speeding through life. Like so many people, I have a tendency to rush, and to feel rushed. At the pool after swimming lessons, I feel a vague pressure to get everyone dry and dressed and out to the car in a hurry. While sewing or knitting, I find myself fixating on the finished object rather than the process of its creation. I'll hurry through a job, like pulling weeds in the garden, just to get it over with, rather than stopping to really experience the job with all of my senses.

I've written a little bit about this in the past, and it's something I've been aware of, thinking about, and working on for a number of years. It's easy for me to feel like I haven't made much progress, but when I stop to think about it, I realize that I have. I've made a lot of small changes. The scenarios I listed above do happen, but not as frequently as they might have two or three years ago. I have learned to ask myself "What's the rush?" "What do I have to do that is more important than what I'm doing right now?" and "Do I really have somewhere better to be?" Often the answer to these questions is, surprisingly and honestly, Nothing. It turns out that there really is nowhere better to be, no reason to rush from here to there, to hurry through my life.

What is the rush? If I hurry through today, and I race through tomorrow, then I'm really only speeding toward the end of my life. That could come when I'm 92, or 50, or tomorrow. But I don't want the measure of my life, when it finally has ended, to have been one that was sped through. I want it to be one that was actually lived.

So, I can afford an extra 25 minutes to dawdle at the pool. I can learn to appreciate the fact that my current knitting project takes 2000 stitches to yield one inch of work, and the quality of my sewing when I take my time. I can do one thing at a time, and do those things well and with great love. I can afford myself the time to live this life.

Funny but true, and what's been going on

First the "funny but true", and then the "what's been going on":

Last night I dreamt that I was taking some sort of class with a priest. I got the feeling that it was a cello lesson of some kind. But I was paying for the class with a little bit of cash and a lot of very nice yarn! I remember thinking that there was no way I'd be able to keep it up with the yarn because it was too expensive.

Then when I woke up, I realized that the priest was actually Jared Flood.

The priest of knitting.

I finally cast on my February Lady this week after a lot of hemming and hawing about what yarn to use, and lots of yarn lusting on Jared's Ravelry page. (By the way, I'm on Ravelry and I think it's about the best thing in the universe. You ravelers can find me under the user name "uncommongrace".) Anyway, I think that explains my dream, which I'm definitely filing under "funny but true".

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

And as to what's been going on, well, it seems that there have been lots of things happening around here, and I have about seven posts waiting in the wings, but I haven't had (or wanted to have, honestly) much computer time lately. I've been wanting to focus on finding our footing in our new summer rhythm, and all that it is:

::swimming lessons

::the new bike-riding prowess of a certain seven-year-old girl (and, oh my goodness, the tears that I cried tonight when I realized that we'd somehow deleted 30 photos from the day she learned to ride!)

::new knitting projects

::dreams of sewing

::rainy days

::dissertation widowhood

::a baby shower and blessingway to be planned for my sister (and the arrival of my first baby niece this fall!)

::some projects around the house (like, um, finally unpacking -- remember, my long, long, long pregnancy followed right on the heels of our move last year)

::peonies!

::birthday parties

::a bit of gardening

::several new cello students

::and, wow, just basking in the still-new babyness that's happening around here.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

So, it's been good. Exhausting, but good. I still have so much to learn. So much! But I am -- we are -- finding the way.

(And thank you to all who have written to check in during my two weeks of silence here in this space. I am constantly both uplifted and humbled by this community. Really and truly.)

Making me happy

We returned from our trip yesterday. It was a lot of fun. It was a lot of driving -- I think the grand total was 3700 miles. Whew!

I had the best of intentions for uploading to flickr and even posting here a few times while we were away -- and I did upload a few things from the first day's drive to flickr, but somehow they remained private all that time. But I really had less computer time than I expected (which is really a good thing). So, now we're home. We have lots of unpacking to do in the house (we took a trip only days after moving?! what were we thinking?!), my husband was out mowing the lawn first thing this morning, and we generally have lots of easy, unscheduled summer days to look forward to now that the rush of this crazy June has passed.

I have tons of photos from the trip, and I'll get many of them up in the next few days. But for today, while I'm still in recovery mode, I thought I'd share a few things that are making me happy right now.

1. Being home

2. A meal shared with old friends (who we hadn't seen in many years) on the last night of our trip

3. Paper dolls

4. Stopping to smell the flowers on a Kentucky backroad

5. The music of Ingrid Michaelson

6. Visiting the home of my daughter's -- and my own -- childhood superstar

7. Sunsets over water

8. A blessingway for one of my dearest friends tonight

9. A new nightgown made by another very good friend

10. An afternoon at the beach

Just a peek...

...from the new house this week.

Moving could be going better. ;)

But we're all so very happy to have a huge backyard.

With flowers and trees and swings and all the important things.

My little one spent the evening (normal bedtimes are suspended while all the grownups are working) making this tent with small branches the other night.

As we laid in it and looked up at the sky, the moon, and the trees swaying in the breeze, I was never so grateful. In the midst of chaos (maybe more on that later), I have been blessed with the gift of a child and her real sense of perspective.

From the Land

Last weekend we visited our CSA farm and picked asparagus. It was a sunny, warm (but not hot) morning.

It didn't take too long to finish our row, with a laundry basket nearly full of the long stalks.

Afterwards, we visited with some chickens, cows, a goat, and the cutest little piglets.

The piglets ate right out of my children's hands -- they were so gentle and playful. It was great fun!

When we got home with our 8 (or so) pounds of asparagus, determined not to let it go to waste, Elisabeth and I cleaned and trimmed all of it. We blanched it in batches -- 2 minutes each -- and then submerged it in ice water until it was cool.

Then we dried it and divided it (what you see above is not all of it, either!).

Elisabeth commented several times that this work reminded her of the olden days. I knew just what she meant: working to gather our food, and then spending time preparing it in large batches to be used over a long period of time. It's so important, I believe, for children to experience this. It can be so easy to assume that all food comes from the grocery store, and to become disconnected from the source. I'm so glad that we have these opportunities through our CSA.

So, now we have about 8 meals' worth of asparagus, which is wonderful, since we are an asparagus-loving family. {For many years, I declared that it was my least favorite food. I claimed that it looked appetizing, but tasted bad. Then one time, about 3 years ago or so, we were staying with some friends and were served a meal with asparagus in it. Not wanting to be the only person not eating it (all of the children were), I went ahead and tried it. And, to my surprise, I loved it.}

And in just a couple of weeks, it'll be time to pick (and preserve) strawberries!

On "Creative Outlets for Mothers"

{At a rehearsal earlier this week for an upcoming recording session.}

Thank you all so very much for your well-wishes, tips and advice, and inquiries about my talk last week. I'm so sorry I haven't been able to respond to any of you -- I have to say that it is completely possible to underestimate the importance of having a reliable computer. I know I certainly took it for granted way too much! Our new computer has arrived, but still needs all the software installed and so on, which requires my husband and his brother scheduling a time to do it. Ugh! Who knew that the death of our computer more than a month ago would turn into such a huge hassle?

OK, I'm done venting now. My absence this week has been due in small part to still working with the laptop which I don't have access to every day, and in large part to not one, but two un-charged camera batteries. That I'm too lazy to plug them in says something, I think.

So, the talk. Wow. I was so nervous about it. But it went really smoothly. One of my biggest fears was that I wouldn't have enough material planned for my entire 90-minute time allotment, and to a certain extent, that was true. I had a solid 60 minutes of points that I wanted to address, and then I opened it up for Q&A and input from the group. Fewer people came to my talk than had signed up, but I think that had to do with it being on the first day of the conference when everyone was still getting settled at the conference center.

I had prepared a long handout, formatted into the categories Why?, What?, When?, Where?, and How? The handout was mostly about the nuts-and-bolts of incorporating creative expression into a mother's daily life. I included reasons for having an outlet of any sort, and why creative outlets are specifically helpful; a really long list of ideas for different things to try (many of which came from your helpful responses to this post), as well as things to consider when choosing what to do; different ways to schedule it into the course of the day; the importance of creating a dedicated space for and valuing our creative work (as well as different ways that space could work for us, and ways of making it fit!); and finally tips on getting started, and a resource list of tons and tons of books and websites (and links to some favorite blogs, too!).

My talk itself did not actually follow the handout. I had prepared a slideshow of about 250 of my photos. (They were all taken from my flickr account, so you have all probably seen most, if not all, of them already.) About half of the photos were of objects that I've made, and about half of them were just examples of photography of mine that I like for one reason or another. I had the slide show playing in a loop throughout the entire talk, and began it before anyone arrived, so as to "set a mood". I began the session by playing some Celtic music on my cello, with only a minimal introduction. I didn't want it to seem like I was performing for the group, but rather inviting them to share a creative experience with me. Afterward, I shared with them a poem that had been shared with me by my herbalist and mentor.

Then I introduced myself, talked about my own creative journey -- which began with my mother, as all things seem to do ;) -- and my depression. I feel that my reemergence as a creative soul is so intertwined with the severe depression that I experienced after James was born that the two cannot really be separated. So I talk pretty frankly about it -- to friends and strangers.

And then I talked about inspiration. The definition of the verb to inspire that speaks to me most deeply is "to stimulate or compel to action." I love that something very small -- James's rapt attention to a saxophone player, a pretty little corner in my home, Elisabeth peeling apples, the two of them puddle-jumping -- can compel me to action. A lot of times, that action finds easy fruition in my camera's capable lens. But sometimes, it requires me to seek out a bigger project, something different, something else that I can do or make or create. For me, the biggest part of inspiration is this call to act, to do something with what I see, feel, and experience, rather than allowing the moment to wash over me and be lost. I think that many of you other crafty mamas and bloggers seem to get this at a very core level -- either instinctively, or quite consciously, and this is one reason I love this community so. (Even though my computer dilemma has taken me from your midst for the time being. I do think about all of you so much.)

I also talked a bit about mindfulness/living in the moment, and some household management/parenting tips, such as an early supper and bedtime for little ones (the best advice I have ever received, thanks to my own mama!), and about the importance of being a strong adult presence in our children's lives rather than a playmate. (For those of you who would like to know more about that subject, Jean Liedloff, whose book The Continuum Concept has formed much of the research basis for so much of what has come to be known as "Attachment Parenting", has an article on her website which talks about this in more depth.)

Most of what I talked about can be kind of summarized as "when we nurture ourselves, we nurture our families". I didn't say this in the talk, but I truly believe that when we model living a creative life, we give our children the freedom to grow and learn and experience life all the more fully.

52 weeks ~ 2

::for 52 weeks, my kids and me::

We have had a weird, long week. It hasn't been bad, but just somehow out of balance. Baby sleep troubles, thinking about moving (to a bigger house, not a different locale ... sorry dear friends!), a couple of headaches for the mama (I so rarely get them that it's been pretty odd), and very few ideas about posting here. And a lot of projects begun, but none completed. So.

Today seems a bit better. Elisabeth and I started reading Little Town on the Prairie today. We'd read all the Little House books through The Long Winter last year, and then took a little pause (mostly because we didn't have the others). We haven't been able to put it down! This has to be my favorite of the books. I love the evocative way that she describes the simple pleasures in keeping a home so well, and the satisfaction of taking comfort in home and family after a day of real work. It has nearly brought me to tears a few times today. (Well, it's been that kind of week.) More than once, I wanted to jump up and rush in here to exclaim to you all, "You have to read this now, friends!" And my real-life friends will chuckle when they read that it has me thinking about a housecleaning kick. ;)

Anyway, I want to leave you (and me) to look forward to the weekend (and the upcoming spring, which is not really so far away afterall) with some words from the book:

"Beyond the open door and window the prairie was dusky but the sky was still pale, with the first stars beginning to quiver in it. The wind went by, and in the house the air stirred, pleasantly warmed by the cookstove and scented with prairie freshness and food and tea and a cleanness of soap and a faint lingering smell of the new boards that made up the new bedrooms.

"In all that satisfaction, perhaps the best part was knowing that tomorrow would be like today, the same and yet a little different from all the other days, as this one had been."

Equilibrium

I know I promised to post on Monday. And I didn't. And then I was really going to post yesterday, and it didn't happen either. But I'm here today! And we've been busy and happy!

After three lovely days with Daddy home last week, I had the opportunity to attend an inspiring parenting and homeschooling conference this weekend, which inspired and "recharged" me.

However, that made for a very late night on Sunday. And a sleepy day on Monday, reconnecting with my babies and trying to reestablish our rhythm.

Last week my serger finally died. I mean, it really died. So I've been looking into other options ... at this point, I've been so spoiled to have had a serger that going without was not a realistic option, especially not with doll commissions in my future. So I researched, asked around, priced, priced again, knew I couldn't afford what I really wanted, wished, looked for used ... and yesterday, amazingly, a local dealer had just had a trade-in only hours before I called. So we spent the afternoon at the shop trying it out, making sure that everything was in working order, etc., and, with the help of my mama, I came home with my very own Baby Lock! It's about 4 or 5 years old, but has never been used. The person who owned it finally decided, after years of non-use, to trade it in for a vacuum cleaner. I cannot believe how fortunate this was for me, because it's the machine I really wanted, and I would never have been able to afford it -- or any Baby Lock -- right now. But this was an incredible deal, and my mom was so generous to help me with it. I'm very blessed, I know.

Monday night was our annual pumpkin carving "party" with my dear, dear friend Rebecca. We've been carving pumpkins together every year for 8 years now, and have never missed, even when we (briefly) lived many hours away.

We have an annual tradition of having pasta and salad for dinner on pumpkin carving night. The photos throughout this post are from that lovely evening.

And tonight is Halloween! You'll pardon me for waiting to share costume pictures or even hints until tomorrow, won't you?!

A Special Day

Today is a very special anniversary for me. One year ago today, my camera came to me! Wow! I feel like I've learned so much as a photographer since then ... and have only scratched the surface of what I want to learn about making beautiful photos.

Here's the very first photo taken with my Canon:

And a favorite from the same day:

And the very first photo I ever uploaded to flickr:

Without flickr, I would not have met many of you. Or learned a lot of things about the kind of pictures I want to take. Or the craft projects I want to try. And without the bloggy world, I would not have been inspired to save and save for my camera. What a lot of growth in my real life has come from this amazing community of all of you!

Spinning Some Tales

I was always a child who narrated my play to myself and invented stories with flowery language as I drew. But as I grew up, it seems that lack of use has caused this skill to dwindle.

As a mother, I have come to recognize how much a story created by me, spun forth out of my own experiences and love, can hold and nourish my children. They hunger for the truth that comes from these interactions, from stories that are made just for them. Just as I have tried always to feed them nutritious foods, so too do their souls need to be fed. Spontaneous storytelling seems to feed their spirits in a very special way.

And yet, I struggle with it so much. I struggle with telling a story that is not contrived, but unfolds in a meaningful way. I stumble over words, and with coming up with just the right language to convey a tale beautifully and simply. I long to create images with detail that will go on to live in my children. And it's hard work for me.

And then, on our camping trip in July, something simple, quiet, and marvelous snuck into me. Laying in our tent and looking out at the sky at bedtime with Elisabeth and James, I found for the first time a story that was authentic and true for all of us, a story that seemed to breathe right from the three of us, wove itself into our imaginations, and lived there with us. The story of a chipmunk family who lived in a cozy nest and took a vacation across a field to a tree stump. Oh, so simple. Gentle adventures. An animal family that mirrored our own. Nothing extraordinary. But magical, nonetheless.

Since then, I still find myself struggling with storytelling, but I have a new commitment to learning this art. I've had this book for a really long time, and have thumbed through it lots, but I've decided to finally read it more consciously and really work at storytelling. Yesterday a friend and I were talking about this, and the idea of a storytelling class came up, as well. So maybe we'll try that. For now, I am going to keep working at it. This kind of creating is oh-so-important -- just as important to my children as anything I knit or sew or bake for them.

Most of the photos in this post come from an afternoon last week spent at a park with my sister's girls, telling stories (some made up, some variations on fairy tales, some just pure silliness) and enjoying popsicles together. I learned so much from that afternoon of storytelling with these four little ones.

Storytelling, like parenting (and life, right?) is really about taking chances, putting yourself "out there", and jumping in. Sometimes the results are sheer magic. Sometimes the results are ... well, not. But you always learn something, and it's just about always worth it.

Progress

I wrote this (on my previous blog) exactly one year ago:

I have been thinking for the last couple of days about the people that I most admire. They are people who, first of all, seem to accomplish tangible things in their lives; things which produce finished results -- whether it's crafting (sewing, knitting, quilting, paper crafts, etc.), or cooking, or gardening ... Whether it's a hobby, or a profession. They are people whose labors result in a "fruit". I sometimes feel like I am spinning my wheels. I have things that I enjoy doing, but I find that I rarely commit to doing them; I feel like I spend more time "wandering aimlessly" through my days without really accomplishing even small tasks or goals.

Which brings me to the second thing I wanted to say about the people whom I most admire. They all seem to be people who take the time to truly relish the "dailiness" of life. I pay a lot of lip-service to this concept, but in general, I find that I am usually just day-dreaming about the next "big" thing in life (the next holiday to plan, the next event to anticipate, or even the next gifts to buy or make for Christmas or birthdays for my children). I regret that I do not take more time to just enjoy the day that I have right now, and appreciate the wonderful, creative beings that have been entrusted to my care as they are today, not as I imagine they might be at some vague date in the future, or how things would be if we just had a particular toy or a digital camera or a real backyard. More money, more time, more self-discipline, more organizational skills ... whatever.

When I first tried swing dancing ten years ago, the friend who was teaching me said that I was too hyper; that I was adding too much extraneous movement rather than relaxing into the dance. I don't think that he meant this as a real criticism of me, but a tip that could help me with my swing dancing. I had not really thought about this comment again until a couple of weeks ago, when it occurred to me that this is how I am about most things in life. I seem to be in hyperdrive all the time; everything is a potential opportunity for me to overreact or stress-out. I seem to add a lot of "movement" to everything I do. I have not mastered the art of just being. I guess, in many ways, I have never been one of those people who is just "comfortable in my skin."

I know that all you ever know about any person is what they show you of themselves. Everyone has anxiety, and everyone has bad days. And most people do not invite you into their heads to share in these things, unless you are really close, and even then, you get the information through the lens of what they wish to share. So, I know that when I think about these people whom I admire so much, that I am admiring the side of them that I know. But I would still like to capture more of those traits into my own life.

Finally, with regard to this blog, I would like it to be a vehicle to my achieving more balance in my life -- a chance to be "real," to take action, to challenge myself to look for positive & inspiring things in my real daily life.

Wow! (If you got through all of that, I commend you!) This was when James was four months old, and I was about two months away from discovering the depth of my depression (aka "the diagnosis").

Anyway, as I look back over the last year, and especially the last 8 months or so (since I moved to this blog), I can see that a lot has changed around here. Certainly beginning this blog and meeting all of you has been a huge, huge part of it. And I think that the power of my own desire to change and determiniation to make my life a certain way has been the other really significant piece of this puzzle. I still feel that I have a long way to go -- certainly, we all do. I could still see a lot of improvement on reducing the extra "motion" in my "way of being". But I am certainly learning to honor my need for quiet -- and time for creating -- and I know that I am finally on the path that I want to be on for this journey.

Wonders: Sky

Sunrise by Elisabeth ~ July 2, 2007

"The top is where the spaceships go
The next is heaven
The next is the sky
The next is the clouds turning pink in the sun
The rest is the beauty of the Earth."

Wonders: Wind

Elisabeth has long been terrified of wind. As we live in a part of the world that can be quite windy at times, this fear of hers can be a difficult thing to work with. This spring, she and my husband bought a kite and had some exciting first kite adventures, which helped with her fears a bit.

Then, on a recent breezy afternoon, Elisabeth had the idea to take her rainbow silk outside and play with the wind. The wind really became a playmate that afternoon, lifting, rippling, and dancing with the fabric. We were so delighted to see the great joy that the wind took in playing with us and our silk. It was so lovely, so tangible, and so sacred.

I'm certain that Elisabeth is not "cured" of her fear of the wind. But I think she has a different respect for its playfulness now, not just its perceived malevolence.

Wonders: Nest

{We are out in nature this week, enjoying a camping trip ~ just the four of us.  Since I didn't want to leave the blog with no activity for two weeks in a row (last week & this week), I'll have it on auto-pilot the next few days, sharing a few wonders we have witnessed around our home over the last week or so.}

We found this nest near our home last week. It had fallen from its tree some time before and was overturned and left behind, having served its purpose.

We have all been amazed by it, spending long, thoughtful times examining and talking about it. The care with which it is constructed, the softness of the whorls of grass to cradle the precious eggs ~ it is all so beautiful and humbling.

A Week of Treasures: Kindness

I met a woman through Craigslist a couple months ago who was cleaning out her craft/sewing area and had some fabric and notions that she was parting with. She very kindly invited me and my two wee ones to her home to look through her things, and was so very generous with her time and her beautiful treasures.

We spent a lovely afternoon with her, talking about everything from crafting techniques to home remedies to modern attitudes toward consumption. She shared the origin and tales behind many of the items that I came away with, like the fabric she used to make her children pajamas in the 70's and the teeny, tiny buttons that were taken from baby clothes her own mother had worn. I was happy to pay her for the things I took, but I hope she knows how priceless a gift she shared with me and my children that afternoon.

Lots more photos in the flickr photoset.

from the recording studio

These are not my photos, but my husband's, from his recording session last week. He gets so much less opportunity with the camera than I do, but I am always impressed by his captures. He has such a good eye, and for the most part, only tries once. (Not like me. A girl who has taken 5000 pictures in 7 months. Wouldn't it be funny if that were a joke?)

I want to go on and on in my rambling way about music and being musicians and what a cool opportunity it is to live that life and the amazing things that music has brought into our lives. (Like one other, n'est-ce pas?) But I really will just let the pictures speak for themselves.

Just a bit of joy

Last night was my sister's wedding reception. They got married privately (some would say they eloped) a while back, but really wanted to celebrate with a party for family and friends. I was the "event photographer," a task made quite challenging by the fact that the lighting in the place was really bad ... I ended up having to resort to built-in flash by the end of the night. (I think more disappointing to me than anyone else, of course.)

To say that my sister and I are extremely different would be a huge understatement. I think the characterizations "earth mama" and "glamour goddess" would not be too off the mark. But anyway, she was the first sibling I ever had, and we shared a room, along with much play and many secrets, growing up. She has had a very, very hard road over the last 10 years or so, and the fact that she has found someone to love, who truly loves her, is so huge that it's difficult to express in words. I am deeply thankful that this has happened for her.

Last night, at the very end of the party, my mom and brother and I asked the DJ to play "Footloose", a song that we had choreographed as children, and used to dance around our living room to it over and over. (The DJ at first refused ... long story ... and had to be strong-armed into it by the venue manager. Not a way to get hired back by a venue, let me tell you.)

Anyway, there we were: me, my two sisters, our brother, and our mama standing in the middle of the dance floor, arms around one another, huddle-style, crying for joy to "Footloose" because our sweet sister is finally happy. (This is supposed to be a joyful post, not a crying one!) It was a wonderful, crazy, fun, sad, amazing moment, one I will never forget, though it's not captured on film (or digitally!).

It was one of those "big" moments in life where no previous amount of struggle or anger could even begin to touch the awesome joy of that moment. (Moments like those make being fully present easy!)

on seeking mindfulness

The subtitle of this blog is "working toward mindfulness." I know that mindfulness is a word that is tossed about rather casually, but for me, it is really a defining element of my life and work.

I am a person who seems to have a million things going on in my mind at all times, and I really struggle with being fully present in the moment. Part of my journey, I know, is learning to be more gentle with myself, knowing that having so much going on in my mind has allowed me to learn new things and pick up new skills that I may not have attempted, or even considered, otherwise. And part of my journey is working toward being fully present more of the time.

I have a favorite quote from Thich Nhat Hanh, which "lives" on my desk where I can be reminded of it throughout the day:

If while washing dishes, we think only of the cup of tea that awaits us, thus hurrying to get the dishes out of the way as if they were a nuisance, then we are not 'washing the dishes to wash the dishes.' What's more, we are not alive during the time we are washing the dishes. In fact, we are completely incapable of realizing the miracle of life while standing at the sink. If we can't wash the dishes, the chances are we won't be able to drink our tea, either. While thinking of other things, we are barely aware of the cup in our hands. Thus, we are sucked away into the future -- and we are incapable of actually living one moment of life!

In my life as a mama, this process is most often expressed as a need for consciousness in my daily choices with my wee ones. Whether it's lighting a candle at bedtime, sitting down to breakfast with Elisabeth instead of just throwing it at her when it's ready, or taking a child into my arms when we're both feeling frustrated and out-of-sorts (rather than walking away or snapping), the day is filled with opportunities to make conscious decisions about my interactions with these incredible souls.

I need to remind myself often that none of this is a formula. Lighting a candle at bedtime does not make me a "good" mother; it does offer the chance to pause and savor a sacred time in a child's life. Because life is a process, not an arrival, right?

And I am very, very blessed to have these wee teachers in my life, because no one is better able to live completely in the moment than a child. As a I see James take complete joy in discovering a cat or watching objects fall as he drops them, or as I observe Elisabeth, engrossed in an art project or important imaginitive play, I am given a fresh opportunity to be reminded (again and again) what it is to be fully present and joyful. Today.

more birthday goodness

Here's some more birthday goodness. Natural Knits for Babies and Moms, a gift from my friend Laura (who happens to be sweet C's mama, as well). This book has become an instant favorite. I am just not sure what to make first!

First off, I absolutely adore these booties. They are just perfect in their complete simplicity. I love the garter stitch on the soles.

Awww, look at that peaceful wee dreamer.

I instantly loved these mittens. Look at that stripey, mitteny goodness!

I cannot resist the cuteness of these kimono sweaters. Oh, so yummy!

And finally, the vest. I never really thought I was a vest person, until I saw my son in one at Christmas, when I promptly changed my mind. I love the subtle striping on this one. So cute! Is it calling my name for Easter?

Corners of my Home

One of the fringe benefits of being married to a performing musician is that he goes to a lot of other people's weddings and events, and is sometimes asked to bring "leftover" floral arrangements home with him.

I know that there are men who just bring their wives flowers for no reason, but my husband rarely just buys flowers for me. But on those weekend mornings when I wake up to find a stunning arrangement from someone else's wedding or bar association party (or whatever) sitting on my table, it still makes me very, very happy. It feels so good to be thought about. And although I know that when he brings flowers home from a gig for me, it's because they were offered to him by an event manager, I still feel that the sentiment behind them is just as tender as if he'd stopped somewhere to buy them for me. I can imagine him smiling as he drives home late at night, with a beautiful surprise for me. Oh, he's very sweet.