I'm not going to say too much, or make a big deal of it; but, I'm back. Realizing just how far we are from family and some dear friends who we just don't get to see enough of, it was high time for a return. And to quietly slip back into the fold of blogland, I'm sharing some photos. A few old and a few new of the littles, mostly.
Monday, May 27, 2013
oh. my. god. this made me laugh until i cried...because this is my life :)
Tuesday, May 14, 2013
"The most difficult part of birth is the first year afterwards. It is the year of travail - when the soul of a woman must birth the mother inside her. The emotional labour pains of becoming a mother are far greater than the physical pangs of birth; these are the growing surges of your heart as it pushes out selfishness and fear and makes room for sacrifice and love. It is a private and silent birth of the soul, but it is no less holy than the event of childbirth, perhaps it is even more sacred." - Joy Kusek
It has been 10 weeks and 2 days since I became a mama of two and we a family of four. In those weeks, everything has changed...time, rhythm...life. The birth of Sequoia Rae compelled a shift in my being, so deep and so intimate. I will soon tell the story of her birth, when the time and words are right. The journey is etched in my memory, and I visit that day often.
For now, I want to honor my mama. The one who put herself aside to be a full-time, fully present mother to my brother and I. The one who never missed a moment of our lives. Through every tear, every laugh...she has loved us through and through. And we know it. We've always known it. I am grateful beyond words for all she has done..all she has given and sacrificed. I can only hope to be as good a mother to my girls as she has been, for that would be the greatest gift I could ever give them.
it's been quite busy around here these days. keenan is working like mad...seriously, all. the. time. i've been working a bit myself. a few hours here and there for the brokerage that keenan works for. it's fantastic, really. for us to be working together. just like we always have. atty is busy growing and attending pre-school and crafting with glitter and glue. it's often the first thing she asks for in the morning: glitter and glue.
we've been busy gathering the odds and ends needed for a homebirth. a water hose. faucet adapters. tarps. a mix tape. you know, birthing basics :)
in other moments, we find ourselves outside soaking up a much missed sun usually hiding behind low hanging winter clouds. oh, portland. but, it's oh so green here, still.
we took a last minute overnight trip to the beach last weekend. our last trip to the coast as a family of three. rather bittersweet, if you ask me. i wanted to soak up every moment of this quiet time, just keenan, atty and myself. so soon, so much will change.
now, we are patient. i have two weeks left to go, but everything inside of me feels different. things are shifting and i know two weeks will disappear in a flash. in the meantime, we try our best to ready ourselves. our hearts. and atalaya.
god, i love this guy. more than words could possibly describe.
"If I should have a daughter…instead of “Mom”, she’s gonna call me “Point B.” Because that way, she knows that no matter what happens, at least she can always find her way to me. And I’m going to paint the solar system on the back of her hands so that she has to learn the entire universe before she can say “Oh, I know that like the back of my hand.”
She’s gonna learn that this life will hit you, hard, in the face, wait for you to get back up so it can kick you in the stomach. But getting the wind knocked out of you is the only way to remind your lungs how much they like the taste of air. There is hurt, here, that cannot be fixed by band-aids or poetry, so the first time she realizes that Wonder-woman isn’t coming, I’ll make sure she knows she doesn’t have to wear the cape all by herself. Because no matter how wide you stretch your fingers, your hands will always be too small to catch all the pain you want to heal. Believe me, I’ve tried.
And “Baby,” I’ll tell her “don’t keep your nose up in the air like that, I know that trick, you’re just smelling for smoke so you can follow the trail back to a burning house so you can find the boy who lost everything in the fire to see if you can save him. Or else, find the boy who lit the fire in the first place to see if you can change him.”
But I know that she will anyway, so instead I’ll always keep an extra supply of chocolate and rain boots nearby, ‘cause there is no heartbreak that chocolate can’t fix. Okay, there’s a few heartbreaks chocolate can’t fix. But that’s what the rain boots are for, because rain will wash away everything if you let it.
I want her to see the world through the underside of a glass bottom boat, to look through a magnifying glass at the galaxies that exist on the pin point of a human mind. Because that’s how my mom taught me. That there’ll be days like this, “there’ll be days like this” my momma said, when you open your hands to catch and wind up with only blisters and bruises. When you step out of the phone booth and try to fly and the very people you wanna save are the ones standing on your cape. When your boots will fill with rain and you’ll be up to your knees in disappointment and those are the very days you have all the more reason to say “thank you,” ‘cause there is nothing more beautiful than the way the ocean refuses to stop kissing the shoreline no matter how many times it’s sent away.
You will put the “wind” in win some lose some, you will put the “star” in starting over and over, and no matter how many land mines erupt in a minute be sure your mind lands on the beauty of this funny place called life.
And yes, on a scale from one to over-trusting I am pretty damn naive but I want her to know that this world is made out of sugar. It can crumble so easily but don’t be afraid to stick your tongue out and taste it.
“Baby,” I’ll tell her “remember your mama is a worrier but your papa is a warrior and you are the girl with small hands and big eyes who never stops asking for more.”
Remember that good things come in threes and so do bad things and always apologize when you’ve done something wrong but don’t you ever apologize for the way your eyes refuse to stop shining.
Your voice is small but don’t ever stop singing and when they finally hand you heartbreak, slip hatred and war under your doorstep and hand you hand-outs on street corners of cynicism and defeat, you tell them that they really ought to meet your mother."
- Sarah Kay, “If I should have a daughter” (via wisps)
here we are, on the other side of another year around the sun. 2012 delivered many gifts, changes, challenges and surprises. we started the year out nice and slow, living our familiar life in the high desert of santa fe and ended the year nestled in a little white house in the pacific northwest. in between, we worked, took classes, adventured relentlessly, reconnected with old friends and even made another babe. atalaya grew leaps and bounds. far more of a 'big girl' than a babe. we've watched her with thrill and amazement as she's experienced this world, and we've been humbled as she's pushed boundaries and made us question our sanity. and now here we are. another year offering it's blank slate, awaiting more stories to be written. i can only begin to dream of what 2013 will offer. i've been feeling undone with gratitude lately. for so many things, really. my family and our health to name a few at the tip top of the list. grateful for the twists and turns my life has taken, all leading to now. grateful to have a partner in this life that i absolutely could not imagine life without. someone who has encouraged me to think, dream and be. someone i feel i have already lived lifetimes with. and on and on we go. intimately intertwined. grateful atalaya chose us to be her parents. being her mama has given me the most glorious gift of all: knowing what real, ferocious love is. for that i am grateful. and now, in just a few short weeks, we will welcome another little one into our tribe. three to be four. our hearts will undoubtedly explode. if all goes according to plan, this little babe will enter the world just as atalaya did. at home. in the water. surrounded by family and massive amounts of unbridled love. oh my.
Greener pastures. We officially live in Oregon again. Where to even begin with this story? Ok, we got a job offer and took it. That pretty much sums it up. But there are layers of complexities and late night/early morning ponderings and hashings-out of possibilites and potentialities. In other words, the decision to move did not come easy. On the one hand, we had our life in New Mexico and everything we had created there... friends, community etc. Then on the other hand you have... umm... money. :) Cold hard undeniable cash that buys cool stuff and puts smiles on everyones faces. Just look at Atty sitting on this giant forest we bought her. She's so happy there in her giant, bought-and-paid-for, forest.
But seriously, we weighed all the options and this move felt right enough to pack it in (and I mean PACK IT IN... 1 giant moving truck, 1 giant pick up truck and 1 wagon.) The move went well. Nicole's parents flew out and helped us drive across country... how insanely nice is that? Who does that? Family, that's who. We love them. They's good people.
We also had a really nice going-away / pre-bday party for Atty. All of our Santa friends came over and had an amazing Cake-Boss-worthy Hello Kitty cake, baked by our personal master baker Bethany Orbison.
Seen here with said cake.
Here are a few more from that soiree.
Kitty Cake.
Kids digging in.
Aftermath.
The party was a smash! And the next day we drove out. Nicole and I played Eilen Jewel's SANTA FE as the red rocks of ghost ranch faded into our rearview and the tall pines of Colorado approached.
It was a bittersweet departure. I think that is why it's taken us so long to post about it. Even the months leading up to the move, where we were considering Colorado instead... it was just a confusing time, honestly. We had discovered New Mexico on our own terms, with only love and a carload of ephemera to see us through. And we landed on our feet and made a family there. Created lives and became much fuller and more complete people. We had many adventures and this late night post can't even begin to describe our love and affection of the place. It was just right, and at the right time. Perfect in every way.
Ok, enough with the sappy stuff. We will be back to you, dear old Santa Fe... one of these days. Meanwhile, life goes on and on and on. And our home is here, together. And now we found ourselves together in lush and lovely Oregon. Where our story began, almost six years ago.
