motherhood

tree hunting | 2016

9:51 PM


tradition. i'm a sucker for it. a true creature of habit. our daily, monthly, yearly rhythms...i rely on them. maybe that's why i love this time of the year so much, it's full of it. our annual trip to our favorite christmas tree farm has to be one of my favorites. but that's no news to you if you've been around these parts a while. it's the only lot our boys have ever known. it's a place where they can run wild and free, a place with familiar faces, owned by a dear friend that has become family, and a fill-in grandpa for our little cuties as family is far away. i feel like i was just sharing a post, much like this one, yesterday, yet another year has passed. our blonde-haired boy's precious locks have been freshly cut, giving way to a much more toddler and very boy appearance, h has sprouted up like a bean pole, and my belly has rounded out with our third boy due in three months. 
come fall, this is a lively place for us with pumpkins in october, cut and living trees as fall gives into winter, and fresh eggs from the coup with each drop in visit. i am so thankful to be able to share these simple, yet life-giving things with our boys, especially as city dwellers ourselves. it is these events, these days, that stick in my mind most.

the sun fading away, sticky candy cane fingers, big grins, clark ringing the cowbell, the sheep in the pasture, h digging with a full-sized shovel to his very heart's content, a sight briskness in the air. no bulky, loud toys, no television on, just a big old breath of nature followed by tired-eyes, and a quiet drive home.

 










motherhood

2.26.16 | growing pains

12:02 AM


a letter to clark

tonight i laid you down to bed for the first time in your nineteen months of life without nursing. in the grand scheme it seems so trivial but for nineteen months of our lives it is how we have began and ended each day and spent countless hours through the days and the nights. it wasn't planned for tonight to be the night, i don't know if "this is it" but it really feels like it. so here we are, inevitably weaning. though for months i've groaned at being through with breastfeeding, suddenly i don't feel ready at all. you have been closer to me than i ever could have imagined. when i prayed for a snuggly baby the lord must have laughed a little when he gave me you.


so here is how it happened:

just before dinner i handed you a bottle of warm milk, which you've never in your life have taken, but this time i told you it was "nurse, nurse", and that if you wanted to do it, this was how. to my surprise, you lit up in all of your toddler-i-want-control-glory and off you went back to playing with your brother with a tiny sip here and a tiny sip there, not really drinking it, but content. dinner came, and then bedtime.


we stuck to our usual routine, i sat in our usual spot, but this time i said just snuggles and handed you your bottle. to my complete and utter shock, you didn't protest. we sat and rocked. i laid you down, said goodnight but yet you became furious. you were so upset. i left the room to leave you to settle but when you did not i scooped you up expecting you demand we nurse, but again you did not. i offered you your bottle, but you asked for water, took a big drink and settled in to snuggle on my chest. you didn't lift my shirt, or demand it down, you didn't tap my chest, or stick your hand in after it. you just snuggled into me, closer than ever, staring wide-eyed back at me with two little fingers resting on your mouth. it is a moment i never want to forget. your long blonde hair pushed back, your arms tucked under your body as far as they could go, your tired, now relaxed eyes peering into mine. in that moment it was as if you understood that it was just time, like it was mutual. through your gaze everything was spoken, yet nothing at all. understanding, tenderness, acknowledgment, thanksgiving, sadness, anticipation, comfort, even joy. in that moment tears flooded over me. i don't know why i get so emotional about the whole weaning process, but i do. nursing is intimate and special to me. and it has been to you as well. it is the first act we did together after you were born, and where our physical, earthly bond began. it is one of the best feelings in the world, nurture at its finest. but tonight, you didn't need it.
 
i remember feeling this way with your bother as well, never quite ready despite how many times i said i was. i can truly say i love the gift that nursing is and has been for us. your every ounce of milk has been through me. the closeness, the bond, the ability to fully sustain another human being on something my body is programmed to make, it astounds me. i feel so blessed, so lucky to be able to have given you the best for nineteen months. nineteen months of you by my side every single day and every single night. i will absolutely miss this season but anticipate the new season to come.











motherhood

christmas 2015

10:17 PM



 

we spent christmas in beautiful southern oregon surrounded by family and snow. it was the perfect white christmas, waking up to snowflakes falling down on christmas eve day and snow that stuck just through christmas night, making way for a clear and beautiful, crisp drive home. we loved every minute, although very little sleep went on. we put the pac n play mattress in upside down and covered it with a sheet (oops) the first two nights, which made perfect sense as to why clark woke up every.single.time i laid him down no matter how asleep he was in my arms. that thing is hard upside down. you'd think we're rookies or something. sleep went much better after that.

the day was great. simple, just the way i like it. i took just a few photos on christmas morning, pretty much what you see here (no family photo this year), a couple on my iphone of the boys in the snow, and then put the gadgets away to enjoy one another. sometimes it's just better that way, and also really hard for me, but necessary. we taught holland how to make snow balls and his first snowman, bounced on a snow covered trampoline, drank a bunch of coffee, ate a lot of food, watched the kids with their cousins, and enjoyed being together in a warm and welcoming house with a cozy fire, and elf on the tv, because i mean, come on. my ideal holiday is exactly this.

santa brought the boys a work bench to share and stuffed their stockings to the brim with chocolates, puzzles, robot claws, and tops, and a pair of chopsticks which h had been asking for, for months (of all things). you bet he ate his pancakes with them.

i can hardly believe the holiday season is over, but it has come with a sweet close. 2016, we are ready for you.



 










 

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