restoration

It's 2015. The hype that comes with the conclusion of one year and the start of another didn't have it's usual zest for me this year. The Christmas season left me worn down & hyper sensitive to noise (not exactly ideal with two babes 6 & 3). While so many blessings encompassed the ending of 2014, I couldn't shake the physical & mental fatigue that had taken over me.

For the past several years I have shied away from lengthy resolutions & instead focused on a word like renew, intentional, or this year's: RESTORATION. 

I long deeply to restore.

Spiritually, I crave restoration in my connection with Jesus.

Physically, I want desperately to restore my body to a healthy state.

Emotionally, I will always need to restore my heart when I discover new areas that call me to grow. 

Mentally, I need to restore my self image. 

So I came upon a binder I had misplaced and left untouched. It was filled with "powersheets" and the aim of "goal setting." Lara Casey poured time, effort, and intention into a tool that I could only DREAM of creating one day. Six months of homework for the soul covering action plans, dreams, & self focus. 

I opened it and stared. For the first time, filling out forms felt....daunting. Because, truthfully, I don't have a lot of the answers. As someone who spends an enormous amount of time in my own head, I felt alarmingly stunted. 

I feel a lot of doubt lately. A lot of fear that I don't see NEW on the horizon, timidity that I may be being asked to stay in one place for awhile, frustration that I'm becoming accustomed to things in a physical place I need to stay new longer. But I'm trying, and this is the meek start to a lot of immensely dream-freezing thoughts I'm sifting through.... 

It's shockingly vulnerable to let myself write all of that down; to unlock that which I know is there but pretend is not. Seeing it, facing it, means I'm calling myself out. Letting the ink drip out of my fingertips means it exists. 

I have no answers. I have only the knowledge that I am wading in the deep end wondering when my feet will touch bottom. I need to give myself permission to feel this, put my hands into it, and see what the wheel and I spin into art together. I want to stand and walk out the door, let the clay slop down and unform but I will try to be here, deep into "this,  knowing I'm not a potter but a puddle of confusion. I will SEEK restoration so I can love who He already loves so dearly, then I will be set free!

The Gift of Experience

Christmas is coming.

I love this season for the magic it brings. Twinkling lights, Rosie Thomas Christmas music, the smell of a fresh turkish fur, chilly weather, decorations, & the spirit of intention; that's what I see in the still small anticipatory moments. I fear however, like every month, the time ushers past me too quickly and I'm caught up in the navigation of daily life with the added holiday agenda.

Already I am dreaming of Christmas morning and seeing the faces of some of those I love opening up presents. I have spent possibly too much time considering just what to wrap up for them before purchasing. Then there's the worry that my children will MISS the reason of the season: Jesus. That I will miss JESUS in the season!

Yesterday, in an epic toy explosion we call KK, we had the chance to examine every single toy we own strewn out around the living room. Wide eyed, my husband and I stared at each other: this is NOT what we want!

I shared, "Sweetie, I really WANT to ask people NOT to get our children toys for Christmas," and he acquiesced.

Now before you think I'm a horrible mother trying to strip the magic of Santa's delivery or rob grandparents of their ability to love long distance, it's NOT that I want to rob my children, it's quite the opposite, I want to GIVE to my children. I am not against the idea of gifting (after all, it's MY very own love language. I LOVE gift giving). What I want though for my children is the gift of experience.

I know, Skylanders are an experience (a technologically odd one but an experience none the less), blocks expand the mind, remote helicopters are fun (for dad), & nerf guns are fabulous but they all lose their magic. Each toy that was so highly coveted soon becomes a thing of the past and only remembered if in generations to come they are resurrected again, like Ninja Turtles or Strawberry Shortcake. What takes longer to dissipate, what builds bonds, what grows relationships is the gift of experience.

From my childhood, what I cherish most now is the gift my grandma gave of The Candy Cane Tree. Before she arrived at our house, she'd hang a barren tree with dozens of candy canes. All three of us would line up at the end of the street and at the word GO would race down and strip the tree of it's new peppermint leaves and see who won the "who got the most!" contest. I remember all of the clothes we would get and between cousins our eyes would meet and silently say, "I can't wait to return this with you on our after-Christmas shopping trip!" I LOVE the annual gift my Aunt and Uncle gave us of family bowling WITH team shirts. And of course, there is always the gift of Christmas Dinner at the castle. Gifts of love, time, & laughter that just STICK in my heart like cinnamon roll frosting on my fingers.

I don't want my children to relive my experience and the magic it brought me. I want them to have their own. I want them to be sown into with opportunity: college support, swimming lessons, a chance to go to the movie theater, an art class, a pottery painting hour, a date for a shake at Sonic, a trip to Dutch Brothers for a hot chocolate. Some of these experiences are less than $5 and give the gift of living life outside of our own financial ability to provide or sustain.

The humbling part is that I realize in writing this that my wish to dictate what is given to my children is selfish. I want to orchestrate the love that is sent to them, given to them, doted upon them to fit within my parenting dreams.

In this moment, I stare at the sea of legos, the ninja turtle figurines, and the endless supply of hot wheels and wonder, is this not relational experience too between brothers? Perhaps I am off base. The heart of this rant, however, is my acknowledgement that time is invaluable and what an amazing opportunity to gift others in our lives with small gifts to encourage relationship. At the very epicenter of my heart is the desire to spend less time frustrated at the chaos of cleaning & more time GIVING LIFE to my family in the art of making memories.

{Looking for ideas on how to give non-toy gifts?? Check out this post!}

A Love Letter to My Home

Dear "Red House"

I have wanted to write this letter to you for a long time, but I just couldn't wrap my heart around the concept of it; the concept of really saying goodbye. I knew that leaving you wasn't an "I'll see you again soon," but a, "thank you for the time we shared" and it burned my eyes and choked my throat.

I wanted to tuck a handwritten note into your eves for only you to know, but I was raw & sore with goodbyes I could barely say. I wanted you to keep a piece of truth in your foundation so that no matter where time took you, you would know, that you ARE loved and always will be.

When I met you, you were so broken. You were abandoned and unloved, forgotten and cast aside. When I saw you, I knew, I knew I wanted to share my life with you. I wanted you to shape me and change me in all the ways that I would do the same for you. I wanted to love you whole as I knew you would do for me.

People might think I'm crazy for loving you so, but it's something I can't explain. You were home. You were the first time I had hope that I could plant roots. Where people saw dust and broken bones, I saw scabs that would heal & scars that would mend. You were my vision, dream home, and you became my reality.

Our first night with you was spent as a family of three on a mattress in your living room. We cuddled there nursing our first born through a high fever on memorial day weekend. You sheltered us then. 

We brought our second born home to you. You let me shape a nursery and dream a room up that I missed with my first. You answered this quiet little dream of mine that lived loudly in my soul.

You hosted our friends and families. You stayed up with me during the sleepless nights. We gave you your white kitchen and you gave it back to us. You shared laughter, arguments, and sorrows with us. 

If your walls could talk....

You let Christan protect you & give me my dream with his hand made white picket fence. You kept my babies safe while they laughed and played in your yard. You entertained us on the lawn for afternoon wine picnics with the neighbors. You were our office & our nest.

Dreams became REAL with you, within you.

So, my dear sweet "Red House" as our boy named you, I love you.

I will always love you.

You could not have inherited a better new family to love and to love you back. You are sheltering them as you sheltered us. They are shaping you as you are shaping them. 

You are no longer a house, you are a home.

With love, 

The family who will always know you as home

Wishful Restroom

I've been busy.
One of those busy things has been a little overwhelming and just today, got fun!
We get our KEYS next week and I'm finally starting to play.
We have our wall colors picked
(kinda scary considering we won't know what it looks like until we move in)
and now it's down to the details!
Our palette is all considerably soft and natural.
Just thought I'd start sharing my inspiration boards.

The Guest Bathroom:

Our wall color for the guest bathroom is Benjamin Moore: WISH.
The hallway wall and our son's room which will also have an influence as they surround the bathroom are Benjamin Moore: HUSH & AGAVE.
With that palette in mind, I became incredibly inspired by the idea or romance & retreat.
All of these pieces are my ultimate restroom inspiration but would require a massive splurge on the shower curtain--which I swore I'd never do again--so, we'll see!

Shower Curtain: Anthropologie, $80
Zinc Letters: Anthropologie, $14 each
Apothecary Jars: Crate & Barrel, $54 for the set
Flower Box: Urban Outfitters, $12

A Big Top Birthday

The Midge is 2!
...and there's just something about it that's oh so
{awesome.unpleasant.amazing.exhausting.exciting.trying}
it's a wee bit like a carnival ride.
Sometimes I wonder, "Did the carnies include ALL the pieces for this seemingly unsafe ride?"
and others I think, "This is more amazing than cotton candy.I seemingly had no idea how much of a metaphor his party theme would actually be,
but while totally exhausting--it was totally worth it.
I had so much fun giving my brain 2 months to come up with the little details that made this day fun for me
(and hopefully others).

So the company is gone.
The family has left.
And the amazing red velvet cake has been eaten.
We are tired but alive and have so much to be thankful for!
{like a healthy, totally normal, testing boundaries midget monster!}

What would you do if....

your husband said he wanted to buy this?


I suppose some wives would say, "eww, really?!"
(I've totally done it!)
I suppose there is definitely a part of me that is thinking, "ewww, really?!"
HOWEVER
there is this other side of me...
This other side that looks at my husband and what he does to provide for our little family,
the dreams he chases in the name of giving me and our son the best of what this world has to offer,
the man who every.single.road trip we go on says, "I miss my Malibu."
(most certainly not a modern Chevy Malibu!! Heavens no!)
He rebuilt a 1965 Chevy Malibu when he was 18.
His family & friends laughed at him when he brought the rust bucket home
(sadly, I probably would have too)
But he is the man that the more you laugh at him, the more you tell him something isn't possible the more determined he is to find a way to make it work.
He's not out to prove you wrong, he's out to prove that there is a way
because that is who he is-
impossible doesn't exist.
"Impossible" made this happen:
So for a few years I've laughed when he's shown me what he would want to rebuild.
Or I've said, "Would you STOP talking about the Malibu?!"
but I get it now
and the man deserves something impossible to prove possibility
he deserves something to call his own
something to show for his work.
And while life may not be about material things
it IS about dreaming
it IS about achieving
it IS about fulfilling who God made you to be
and God made men to take pride in themselves through their work
and God made my man to shatter the belief that some things cannot be done.

What would I do if my husband wanted to buy that thing above?
I'd tell him I love him & I believe in him.

baby j

On Friday, my day off from my prescribed 9-5, I went out and had a baby shoot.
While the October weather had me sweating in 92 degree heat, baby J was all cool and calm.

I have to say, the nerves that piled up in me over this shoot were unreal.
I laid up the night before doubting myself--what if I didn't get the parents what they wanted?
what if I would have an off day?
what if I couldn't do this?!

None of it really made sense to me.
My Hus encouraged me. My soul sister prayed for me (have one of those? they're key! :)
The two people that knew how nervous I was were totally on my side.
THIS is what happens when I let fear get in the way:
I crumble.

The thing is, I love photographing babies.
It is so pure, so unfiltered, so raw.
There is so self conscious anxiety of the double chin, the wrinkles, the wind...
it's just love.
It's what we were all meant to be.

There is something in me that is frightened by being paid to do something I love--like take pictures of babies!
And while you all must be thinking, "Woah! Don't hire her!"
The thing is, once I was there, once I was with baby J and his 'rents...I was so OKAY.
The camera melted into my hands and the play began.
Not a moment of awkward doubt--not a second of fear when I was in action.
What a perfect little subject.
Only one baby J and I was trusted to commemorate his 6 months of life!

4th Anniversary Photo Shoot

"I’m still learning what love is
Everyday I wake up in your arms
I’m still trying to figure out what works
How to set off all your alarms

I’m still learning what love is
When I’m walking close to you
The best way to hold your hand in mine
The best way to comfort you

Guess it may
It may always be this way

I’m still learning what love is
Every time you look at me that way
I’m still trying to figure out just how
You can still look at me the same

Even though I may not get it right
All the time I will always try
And I will always stand right by your side

I’m still learning what love is
Everyday I wake up in your arms
I’m still trying to figure out what works"

~Rosie Thomas, Guess It May

dream trippin'

in order to survive...to keep pushing through....
dreaming is entirely necessary.
i live in a day dream world of all the places i want to be
all the places i want to go.

i have a gypsy spirit with first class taste and a babysitter's budget.

i have been spoiled beyond words to see so many parts of the world.

during my collegiate years I lived in Italy for a short time
and spent one month traveling Greece.
i picked fresh produce every day, i danced in discotecs, and smoked in snowy streets.

in high school i was able to go to australia, new zealand, norway, and london.
i held koalas, watched the sun never set, and ate waffles in the middle of fjords.

in different circumstances, i visited Singapore served in Thailand, and learned love in Peru.
i saw catastrophic devastation, poured cement in a Muslim village, and played carnival games in a barrio.

i have boarded boats, flown in planes, and ridden trains.

THIS is the life I crave.a life of endless adventure, constant growth from foreign challenge, and the fresh air of somewhere new.

while some travel may have to wait
& while some dreams take time
i can plan some things with the passionate belief that not all things should be postponed--
today i plan not for 18 years from now,
not for a first class excursion in europe,
not for a sundrenched beach with a corona...
I Dream of A West Coast Road Trip.

In February I plan on getting in the car with my true love
and driving.
Driving through Oregon to Seattle with no official plan but just to BE.
I think this will be just what we need.

if i can't dream today, i won't see tomorrow.
images from here
and see more here