Phew. What a ride! This is meant to be a love letter, so I’ll be nice.
Thank you for teaching me that I am strong, that I can get knocked down and rise wiser and kinder. I bow to the lessons. Thank you for giving me the strength to keep going and for showing me that I am not alone.
And thank you for reminding me of how truly blessed I am! This life – wow.
Thank you for helping me to see that I am a good mom and that I have a great kid. He is my guru, my sage, and the littlest love of my life. Thank you for giving me the strength to wake up at all hours of the night, for being patient during his tantrums (sometimes), and for the magic he’s showing me in the world. Thank you for answering all of my prayers with that kid!
Thank you for the original love of my life – the kid’s dad and my partner in crime. I’m still not sure how I got to be so darn lucky… thank you!
Thank you for this home! When I was a little girl, I dreamt of a home like this – beautiful and serene, somewhere to live forever and always, a fireplace with stockings, and lots of rooms to fill with memories. Now I live here and I am in awe.
Thank you for the adventures and travels, for friends near and far, for chocolate and wine and lattes, for morning snuggles in bed and five seasons of Scandal.
Thank you for showing me that there is still so much to come. Thank you.
Life rarely goes according to plan when you’re trying to sell your house and move with a toddler. Life rarely goes according to plan when you’re dealing with a toddler – period. I naively started the Tiny Devotion’s #insanelyintentional challenge a few days ago and, not surprisingly, I’m already behind. 🙂
Let’s pretend day 6 was yesterday and today is day 7. Let’s.
Day 7’s assignment: to forgive someone.
I chose me – we’re often the hardest on ourselves and this is absolutely true in my case. Here goes.
Dear me, I forgive you for being ordinary. I forgive you for not being particularly beautiful, exceptionally smart, or one iota funny. I forgive you for being serious, often too serious. I forgive you for not accomplishing as much as you thought you would – you found a magical life instead. I forgive you for not being a lawyer, a doctor, or a CEO – you’re a kick-butt mom, wife, and administrator instead. I forgive you for not being the perfect earth momma you thought you’d be – sometimes the kid just wants a bagel with cream cheese for dinner and there’s no room for negotiations. I forgive you for still having a soft tummy, 15 months later, and for being upset about it too often – croissants and wine are worth it. I forgive you for not being able to bend into the perfect yoga pose for the perfect instagram pic (although lord knows you try) – sometimes it’s safer not to break things. And so on. I forgive you and I embrace you for all of the above… and I’ll forgive you in advance for when you lose this feeling and feel whiny and sh*tty again. I embrace your ordinariness. It’s enough.
“What saves a man is to take a step. Then another step. It is always the same step, but you have to take it.” Antoine de Saint-Exupery
It’s been awhile and in that while, I’ve often made my way to my blog and wondered if and how to resume – how to begin again. Life has been busy and time scarce. But this is always the case and unless we consciously choose to add the things we cherish to our schedules, they often get lost even if they are important (but perhaps not urgent).
For me, writing has become urgent. 2015 has delivered a series of blows to the gut that I just wasn’t expecting. Now it’s time to heal and since I was kid, that’s involved putting pen to paper (for the really, truly personal bits) and sharing stories. So today marks my beginning… again.
And today, I’m invoking gratitude because I know that even on the darker days, I still have so very much to be thankful for (my spirited boy, the love of my life, family and friends, a roof over my head, food in my fridge, breath in my lungs, etc…)
I hope that today, on this last Friday in March, you too can find something to be grateful for.
One of the many amazing things about having a baby is that strangers stop to chat. At least once a day someone stops us to comment on how cute Ryan is (probably the cutest ever, really). Then they tell us a bit of their life story, which is always such a privilege, and inevitably they end with something along the lines of, “enjoy it. It goes too quickly.”
My kid turned six months this week so I know it’s true: time evaporates. Life has this way of marching along and, if we’re not careful, we’ll miss it. Better enjoy it while we can.
Ryan is K.O.-ed in our bed next to me. It’s the only way he’ll nap in the afternoon and truthfully, I love these moments.
In a few weeks, I’m turning 30 – not exactly old, but a milestone nevertheless. Having just become a mom, and with this birthday looming, I think it’s safe to say I’m a grown up… although I don’t really feel like it yet (does anyone? ever?).
There are a few things I’d like to leave behind in this decade, a few things I’d like to take with me, and a few more that I’d like to breathe new life into. The first “lesson” is this:
“… for all of us, getting old is about letting go. Of regrets, of unachieved ambitions, of self-centeredness […] The letting go includes letting go of always wanting to be happy. The more I put happiness aside, the more easily I can settle with what is. The more I let go of being happy, the happier I am.”
A quote from Sue Moon’s article June’s edition of mindful.