home.

It is true, home is where your heart is. Where your priorities dwell. We've had countless conversations over the past 8 years on where to make our home. And over 8 years the idea of "home" has changed so much. It went from where my parents and brothers were to where Joe's school was, then closer and eventually far away from my parents. And I still feel "home"less. So odd. Moving around as a kid and having family all over, I guess you lose that a bit. So, after years of possibley pointless searching, I am deciding to find comfort in the "home" that I am in. The shingles and boards that make up the house in which I raise my children for a few short years. And where they are, my heart goes, so they are....home.

plans.

On this day, 8 crazy years ago, I married this guy. He is a good man, honest, responsible and hard working.

8 years ago our "plans" looked so much different than they do now. We were going to finish school, travel, buy a house, hang out with friends, party and then maybe someday....have a family.

About 4 weeks after this photo was taken we found out our first baby was on the way. Talk about shock and awe. But we made it. Even though at times neither of us thought we would. We keep plugging along, working hard to do things the way we knew they needed to be done.

And here we are, 5 babies, 1 funeral, 6 moves, 5 jobs, 2 states, 3 colleges, 1 almost-completed bachelor's degree and oh so many failed plans later. And yet I couldn't be happier with how this "Plan" turned out. Because although our plan wasn't meant to be, we've learned together, time after time that God has a plan for us, and it is way better than we ever could have dreamed.

So, in the next 8 years, my plan........ is to love on my growing babies, hang out with my man and keep giving my plans up to God.

In the spirit.

Trying to lift myself up instead of falling into what has become a predictable routine for me. The after-baby slump. When nothing fits and no one is quite themselves. Well, my babe is 2 months old tomorrow and we're rebelling against the slump.

So, here I am. Trying to revive what used to be save my sanity. A blog. It has moved around a bit, but Xanga kept me for about 4 years and I made some wonderful friends there. Beautiful and inspiring mama's.

So, without further ado.

Today we hung around the house. After a lazy, close-to-home weekend full of rain, sunshine, playing outside, family walks to the park, sleeping babe in the mei tai and a mug of coffee. Mmmm it was a good weekend. But of course Monday did what it seems to do so well and I was exhausted by 9am. Boo. However, Olive took a lovely little nap, solo. And I mopped, moved furniture, cleaned up clutter, swept.....bliss.

Now I am not usually one to find comfort in cleaning, I tend to avoid it at all costs, but after the 8 weeks our family has had...it was long overdue and it felt so nice to get something done without having to ask someone to help me or hold the baby etc. And the tv was off so I had my little helpers too. It was a good morning. After Ollie woke up, it gave me an excuse to sit down and finish off the 1st sleeve to this. More pictures to come of it finished.

All in all, not spectacular but nice all the same. It was a good day.

time.

If you had told me when they handed me that little baby, that he would test me beyond what I ever thought I could take. The highs and lows of emotional stress that would come with trying to parent him. The tears and joy that he would bring to our family. The frusteration for us both. I might have run. There are still moments I mentally run away. Hide my head in the sand and raise the white flag. I have no idea how to parent him, Lord. No clue. He is beyond my knowledge and understanding. I don't know why he does these things and is so unreasonable. I don't know what I am going to do to fix it.
But I have to trust that I am not supposed too. I must have needed some serious humbling. Because here I am, unable to parent on my own expertise or knowledge. Unable to understand the solution. Waiting and asking that it be shown to me. And it may have to be painfully obvious. The only one more stubborn than him, is me.

today.

Today I am lonely. More than the usual, everyday lonely. But oh the lows of hormonal and lonely. And overwhelmed. Quite overwhelmed. I need life to slow down, which typically means it will speed up. Totally uncaring that I need more time.

grief.

Honestly, it used to be a word I hated. I hated what it did to people, turned them into someone I didn't even recognize. Changed memories into something much prettier. Made regular people into saints. And made me feel lost.
I don't know how far I have come from those feelings. Mourning someone who hated tears is hard. But it has to be done. I guess I have been healing through stories and special days. Being a mama to littles makes grief harder and lso more bearable. There are no silent moments to cry and feel sad, when little ones are running around. But there are still moments, when you hold you newborn baby and want to call him to tell him he is an uncle, again. Or when you see so much of him in your babies and wish you could call to tell him. Those are the moments I have.
Grief can shape you in so many ways. It shaped our family size. I desperately wanted my children to have that bond with someone, to fight like cats and dogs, but want to die when they feel pain. To experience that bond at a young age is somethign I was blessed to have. I know for so many reasons this isn't common, but I dearly hope it takes place in our family.
6 and a half years later, I still miss him liek it was yesterday and finally I have stopped fighting it. Tears come and go more than I had planned, but my babies have become little children who understand how much Uncle Matty meant to mama. And thankfully I am confident they know how precious they would have been to him.

So, I have handed everyone back their right to grieve and set off with my own idea of what that means.

breathe in, breathe out

these moments, feeling her little fingers wrap around my neck, little body wiggling against my chest, and hearing her sweet little 2 year old humming against the side of my face. It takes me back to the little boy that first sat on this mama tummy as we swayed back and forth in the kitchen, summer of '05. No air conditioning, just the two of us, this boy who made me a mommy, rocking his baby sister to sleep. Soon he was followed by the snuggly little bald headed baby sister who danced with mama while her baby brother kicked mama from the inside. Little kisses, humming toddlers turned into big brothers and sisters. This is life for us. Welcoming our baby with a dance. Just mama and little one. Singing silly little songs that make their mama cry every time. Don't they see, we don't lose a baby, we add another little dancer. And when baby comes, a new part of each of my babies has been born. we tell our children they can't have too many friends, well you can't have too much love. And my babies give it freely to each other. I have seen it. sloppy little toddler kisses on a newborn baby face, little fingers tickling tiny, wrinkly toes. All of us wondering how we survived without this little person. How we ever thought of ourselves as whole before they arrived in our arms.

no, I don't lose a baby.
our family gains a whole new perspective.