Year End Wordle

Jan2

I’m working on a 2011 year-end summary post and it is taking me longer to do than I anticipated. So, for now, a delightful year-end Wordle image instead. I just love these! So much fun to see what you’ve been talking about for a year. It was important to me that the Wordle represent my whole year’s worth of blog posts, rather than just the most recent page which is how it automatically works. So, I used the wonders of BlogBooker to turn the last year’s worth of posts into a book and then copied and pasted that text into Wordle for a full-year’s image. (Side note: Guess how many pages the blogbook was…409. Whoa. No wonder I’m having trouble choosing what to put into a year in review post ;-D)

via http://wordle.net

Embodied Prayer

Jan1

Sister, before you get all busy and serious about your new year resolutions,
take a moment to tune into that force which beats your heart,
which grows the leaves on the trees, which creates and tears down,
everything.
Tune into the captivating rhythm of evolution,
and dance your way into your holy calling.
The whole universe is dancing with you.

–Awakening Women Institute

This was Alaina and me in January 2011!

This year, I’d like to let go of shoulding myself. If I don’t truly have to do something, I’m only going to do it if I want to do it. If the word “should” enters the picture about anything, I’m going to use that as my cue to NOT do whatever it is I’m letting should me. Sound like a plan?

I enjoyed reading this post from Dreaming Aloud recently and the writer observes that she is only going to be able to be her for the new year: “I might even let myself mother to my own standards too! Wouldn’t that be nice, rather than failing every day because I don’t do everything the way the books say.” She also included this interesting idea about 3/4 baked: “Another influential book in my life…Zugunruhe… talks about the 3/4 baked philosophy, where the author urges us to do our work the best we can, but rather than spending all our energy in refining it ad infinitum, put it out to the world 3/4 baked and let the feedback and the inspiration it creates, and your own distance, do the final honing, because really there is no such thing as perfect.”

Embodied Prayer

My next intention for 2012 is a very personal one that I feel hesitant to write about. As soon as I read the gorgeous quote above, I knew I wanted to share something about it though. When I applied to graduate school in thealogy (not spelled wrong!) last year, I wrote in my application that I wanted my life to be a living prayer for social justice and women’s empowerment. Recently, based on my work in my graduate classes, I have been asked to write several articles for academic journals focused on women and religion. I have always felt very cautious and wary of sharing any of my ideas about spirituality or religion publicly and so this makes me nervous for a variety of reasons. However, if I’m actually going to be writing these articles, it is probably time to shed discomfort and speak my truth! I think my primary concept of living prayer is really about mindfulness. Being here and being aware. In September, the Awakening Women Institute offered via Twitter to give people “temple names”—you were asked to respond to the question about “your edge right now in your life. What is calling you, what is challenging, what is opening?” I was instantly intrigued and responded to the offer with the following: “I have multiple edges–I feel at the edge of being able to truly live my faith, having my life be a living prayer. I also constantly teeter on the edge between meeting my children’s needs and meeting my own needs–and trying to find the harmony in that; trying to find the place in which our family works in harmony to meet each member’s needs (not requiring ‘sacrifice,’ because we have a seamless integration!).” The temple name I received was: Embodied Prayer. At first I felt slightly disappointed, like, yeah, I said that already. But, as I “rested” with the name and stated it aloud—i.e. “I am Embodied Prayer”—it has become a very powerful daily practice for me. I have long sought strategies to integrate a sense of the sacred in daily life and have also known that at the root, what I’m really wanting is daily mindfulness. My “temple name” is serving as that mindfulness touchstone for me—as I go about my life, I ask myself what kind of “prayer” I’m offering in this moment. And, is this the kind of prayer I want to embody right now? (i.e. the other day I was stressed out and driving too fast and feeling annoyed with my kids and I stepped back slightly and looked at my “prayer” and realized that I wanted to embody a much different sort of offering to the divine, to the web of life, than a stressed out cranky prayer. This step back and self-reminder, immediately calmed my mood and allowed me to breathe more deeply and kindly.) That said, I also have a pretty deep-seated tendency to be extremely harsh with myself (see first New Year’s intention!) and I must also be mindful of not using this name in a self-flagellating way—i.e. what kind of prayer is THAT, you loser!—or to become angry at myself when I forget to use it, forget to be mindful.

To what/why is this prayer offered anyway?

Something that made me feel as if I belonged to our tiny little Unitarian Universalist church and like there was indeed a spiritual niche I fit into, was a hymn we sang during one of my first visits with a line of, “some call it evolution, and others call it God.” That notion that there is something widely felt by many, but called by different names and within vastly different systems of belief and understanding, is why I continue to identify as a UU. This force, this connecting “glue” that holds the universe together might be named by others “God” or “the Universe” or “Nature” or “Life Force” or “the Sacred” or “Divinity” or “the Tao”—I feel most satisfied when I personalize it as Goddess. I do also feel Her presence directly in my life—call it an energy, call it the sacred feminine, call it the divine, call it source, call it soul, call it spirit, call it the great mystery…I perceive a web of relatedness and love within the world and I choose to put a feminine form to that energy—to name it and know it as “Goddess.” When I am embodied prayer, it is mindfulness of this connection and relatedness of which I speak.

Imaginary Future Children

Dec29

My brother graduated from college earlier this year and recently got his ultimate dream job in a nearby state. This is the realization of a plan and vision he’s held for himself since he was a very small child. It is pretty exciting for the whole family! Anyway, a couple of weeks ago I was talking to my husband about it and we were reminiscing about when we were young and launching our lives. Thinking about my brother, I was feeling a little wistful and a little tied down, thinking about how we’re never planning to move anywhere else and so forth and musing about whether we’ve made a mistake by settling so permanently in one home and location, are we missing out on “adventure,” etc. I also said, “remember what it was like to make decisions without having to think about our kids?” After a pause, we realized that we did not remember and that was because, while our children at one point didn’t physically exist, making decisions about our lives as adults has still always included them. And, then I was struck with a wave of memories of how the choices we made as a very young couple were based on the then-hypothetical nature of our future children and what we wanted for them. When I was finishing my BA in psychology, one of the top issues on my mind was where to go to graduate school. I felt a pull towards PhD programs in psychology and I felt like that is what many people were expecting of me, but I also knew in my heart that there was no way I could manage a practice as a psychologist while also having children. I didn’t want to spend that much time in school and then feel torn being pursuing my career and taking care of my children. So, I decided to work on my MSW, theorizing that the more flexible nature of the work and the less expensive nature of the degree would be more compatible with family life. (I was 18 while making this decision.)

Then, when I was getting ready to graduate from graduate school and Mark was finishing his bachelor’s degree we had a conversation about how it was “now or never” in terms of what we were going to do—I told him that now was the time when we had the MOST freedom and flexibility with our choices and if we felt like we wanted to live in a different part of the country, etc., NOW was the time to do it, before we had a family to uproot. We talked at length and looked for jobs and apartments in a variety of different states. Finally, we concluded that we wanted our children to be raised near their grandparents and not in a different state where they would see them once or twice a year. (I was now 21 and would not actually have any children for three more years.)

No way could I keep these people apart!

We realized that many towns and places are much the same as any other and why not settle where we were certain the grandparents would remain. I also knew that I wanted to be close to my own mom so she could help me with my babies! So, we bought land one mile from where my parents live before I even got pregnant with our first baby. Post-graduate school I was offered a full-time job at an organization that I adored the year before I planned to get pregnant and I turned it down, knowing that I wouldn’t want to be working full-time while having a baby.
Any more future babies out there?

Yesterday, I was sitting in the living room playing with Alaina and waxing eloquent about her fundamental awesomeness. The boys were playing in the living room too and I said, “I think I HAVE to have one more baby so Alaina has someone to play with! She’s going to really want me to have a friend for her.” Lann said, “But mom, what if you have a…” and I said, “it won’t matter if the baby is a boy. Boys and girls can play together just fine! It is great to have two boys and it would be fun to have two girls, but the other baby doesn’t have to be a girl. Alaina will be happy to have a boy to play with too.” He started to say something again and I went on and on about why do people think children have to be segregated by gender, blah, blah and then he said, “MOM! I’m not talking about what if the baby is a BOY, I was trying to say, what if it is a MISCARRIAGE!” And, I was quiet for a moment before saying, “I know. I worry about that too.” It was a sobering moment. I’ve talked and thought at length about how I’d like to end my childbearing years on this high, happy note, rather than possibly begin a new loss journey. (I do recognize that it is bizarre to make decisions about our family’s future based on fear, rather than love.) Just as when I was a teenager and twenty-something, today I continue to make decisions based on my present-day children and my hypothetical future children, including the possibility of experiencing further pregnancy losses.

Today as I was snuggling Alaina in the morning—she was popping up and staring at me and then flopping on top of me and snuggling her head into my shoulder over and over—and I was smelling her and feeling her strong, wiggly, vibrant little form and I thought, “you healed me.” If I hadn’t had her, I know I would have carried a permanent wound and a permanent place of sadness in my soul surrounding my childbearing years. She fixed it.

Thankful for place

Returning to my notion of being “permanent, this is an excerpt from one of my essays for my Ecology and the Sacred course.

I was interested by the explanation [in our class text] about how we typically, “tell the story of our cultural lives and our interactions with other people…” While I definitely share this tendency, I do also feel deeply rooted to my natural place—the land on which I live and on which I grew up. My parents homesteaded their property in the 1970’s and I was born at home and spent my entire childhood on the same piece of land on which I was born, playing in the woods. They are very connected to their land and literally their blood, sweat, and tears have gone into their “place” in the natural world.

Eight years ago, my husband and I bought a parcel of my parents’ property and built our own home there. We live on a different road than my parents, but are still only one mile from where I was born, and our property is bordered by theirs on two sides. My husband and I have now invested a lot of time and energy into this piece of land, now our blood, and sweat, and tears are part of this piece of land and we feel permanent in this location. We do not—indeed, cannot—envision ever moving and living anywhere else. Sometimes my husband and I talk about whether this sense of permanence is binding or restrictive—i.e. what about the sense of possibility, about being able to “start over” anywhere—but we’ve concluded that rootedness has a great deal of personal value to us and we wouldn’t want to trade our roots for “wings.” While this isn’t quite the same as a natural history of place, I do feel that my own identity and social story includes an interwoven, personally important element of natural place. This part of the country is where I belong and I am invested in it…

While some people lament the “foolishness” of their youth, looking back at my own young adult years, I’m surprised at my own youthful perceptiveness and foresight about what choices would best suit the needs of my then-imaginary children and family. I’m curious to know what life choices did you make as an inexperienced young adult that have continued to serve you well?

The boys playing in our place last year–not hypothetical children anymore!

Front of house

Back deck. See why I love it here?

Busy is Boring!

Dec19

Another tidbit for my personal “remember this” files…

Stop Describing Yourself as Busy
When you’re swamped, it’s easy to tell anyone who will listen that you are very, very busy. As I describe in Hidden Feelings of Motherhood, your thoughts are powerful. Viewing a situation as negative releases the stress hormone cortisol. This is not good for you! Mentally rehearsing your busyness accomplishes nothing positive and is most likely harmful. So stop describing yourself that way.

This is something you can do for yourself now. Besides, everyone is busy these days. It’s actually kind of boring to hear about the busyness of others. And telling others about our busyness fuels the peer pressure you might feel when talking with other mothers—a rather bizarre competition to see who is the busiest of all.
–Kathleen Kendall-Tackett: Practical Steps Toward Achieving More Balance in Your Life

I read this several years ago and it comes to mind whenever I’m tempted to describe myself as “busy.” She’s right. It is boring to hear about how busy other people are and to essentially compare lists of busyness. I’d rather talk about the things we’re doing that fuel us and excite us, rather than review a litany of to-dos.

Elevenmonthababy!

Dec19

I can hardly believe I’ve spent 11 months now with this baby girl in my arms! She’s got nine teeth now and seems to say (to the very carefully observing and possibly imaginative ear): kitty, dolly, cookie, book, egg, up, na na, mama, daddy, brother, Baba, baby, boo, and something that indicates “I see people I know in that picture” as well as a “go that way” directive sound and maybe says, “get” or “got.” Does baby signs for nurse, eat, and all done. Is into EVERYTHING, stays up til midnight, only goes down for nap in the Ergo, eats toilet paper, loves dolls, and is unbelievably adorable!

My little heart is all aflutter because of her obsession with dollies. If she’s going to be a fan, she’s definitely in the right house!

She practices standing up often, but no steps yet.

Here is a standing video (she’d been practicing over and over when we took this at 11:30 one evening–she had been clapping and cheering for herself every time, but that cuteness disappeared when the video was on!)

And, here is an adorable one of “walking” using a push toy:

I mentioned the staying up til midnight–this is what I see…

I mentioned the toilet paper eating (also at midnight):

And, there’s mouse-eating that happens too. She hopped out of bed of her own accord and stood on my laptop looking like this:

That is another skill this month–can climb out of bed by backing off edge semi-carefully.

She’s fabulous, truly!

The potty strike seems to be waning—has been sleeping dry all night and pottying in morning. Also pottying successfully for all recent poops. She is on the move all of the time and is quite a bit harder to take care of than she used to be! Has destroyed the Christmas tree twice this month—luckily, she wasn’t hurt either time, but there was a shower of broken glass and the second time the tree itself was broken beyond repair. So, my husband cut the top of it off and made a stand for it and now we have a pretty-sad looking tiny, tabletop tree.

I’m on break from teaching and looking forward to three weeks of time off and holiday fun! I’m scheduled for three classes next session (luckily, all the same class, which should make prep time significantly easier). So far, one is very low on registrations though so I may not end up teaching that one and that’s more than okay. I’m nervous about driving in January-February weather and I also really only feel comfortable trying to leave her home for one night per week (that’s right, the time with my mom coming with me is drawing to a close—I don’t feel like I can have a walking [presumably] baby hanging out in the building and my mom, while still gamely trekking out with us, is pretty tired of having to come with me. It isn’t really about proximity for nursing, it is about not being separated from my baby for long, and I’ve very grateful that she’s been willing to keep coming with me for so many months so that we could be together.)

The Ongoing Crisis of Abundance

Dec7

In March, I lamented to my husband, “you can’t imagine the amount of things I think of doing each day and then have to let go of.” What is weird—and that I also told him then—is that many of those ideas only occur to me on that day and are not really that important. Very often, these are not life priorities—they are just things that pop up and catch my attention and I think, “I could do that!” So, things like blog carnivals at interesting and popular blogs (I could write an entry–I have tons of ideas regarding that theme!), legislative alerts from worthy causes (I should write a letter and help with this!), interesting articles and posts (I could read that, it would only take a minute!), contests to enter (I’d like to win that, I should enter!), volunteer roles (wow! Sounds so interesting, I’d love to do it!), trainings or conferences to attend (I should register!), neat homeschooling projects (hey, maybe next time the baby sleeps, I can start this with the kids!), a new book that catches my eye (I should order that!), great recipes (I could make that for dinner!) good quotes to share on Facebook, I could write an article about this!, or about that!, someone has a question I could answer, here’s a neat article (I want to share this with others!), ooh! More free books to put onto my Kindle, art ideas, journal entries, etc., etc. It never stops! And, these are usually in addition to my ongoing projects, ideas, commitments, responsibilities, laundry, meal preparation, things other people want from me and so forth. Oh, and did anyone comment on my Facebook status? ;-D

Too much?

Sometimes I think I just like and care about TOO MANY things. All of these things splinter my attention in a million ways however, and also leave me with a persistent sensation of, “well, I didn’t get everything done today.” I continue to try to make sure to unsubscribe from email lists and blog subscriptions to cut down on this immediacy sensation that a constant influx of new information and ideas promotes. As I told my husband, “if I didn’t get that newsletter, or click on that article, or open that email, I would never have known about all those things I could have gotten done today.” Plus, there is always a new batch tomorrow! And, then I get a little depressed thinking why the rush to get things done and to finish? So I can die with a clear to-do list?! Come on!

Though actually, this is different than having “too many things to do”—because many of the things are new each day—it is part of managing the information flow into my life, I think. Some time ago I read this free book from Zen Habits and it was very helpful in its recommendations of how to sort through all of the clamor and focusing, but I think I’ve let go of those zen habits again in the last couple of months and need to try to re-read the book (but, OOPS, I’ve just turned that into another to-do!). I worked very hard before Alaina was born to trim away the extraneous so that I could focus intensively on her, but new and interesting things, ideas, and opportunities continue to emerge to take the place of what I trimmed away.

I want to remember my conditions of enoughness and to also make a new priorities/goals sheet so that when the baby naps, I know what’s at the top, rather than getting distracted. When each day ends, I continue to find I feel as if I have somehow failed. And, that I have let someone, some thing, or myself down.

When I was originally planning to share these thoughts so many months ago, I also remembered a poem I wrote when my first son was a toddler. I don’t have a toddler now…two kids and a baby instead…but the feeling of ideas building, cresting, and falling away is still familiar and my closing thought still a good reminder!

Vision

I cannot shake the feeling
That my life does not look
The way I want it to.
Each day, new big ideas build in me
And crest in a wave of vision
That finally breaks upon the shore
Of daily life with a toddler.

Reality.
Bound by the demands of everyday
Instead of grand and bold.

You’ll See It When You Believe It
Do I believe it?
Is this my journey?
Humbling
To watch the death of ego.

Be here now.
Am I?
Is it possible that where I am
And what I’m doing
Is exactly where I’m supposed to be?

—

And, then I remembered this quote from The Life Organizer by Jennifer Louden:

“Would a weight lift off my shoulders if I realized that it’s normal to feel pulled between choices, that it’s normal to want to do more than I have time or energy for, and that it’s normal to have to choose between two equally wonderful things, that it’s actually a sign I’m a fascinating, amazing person?”

That’s right. I’m a fascinating and amazing person. And, so are these three:

Choose wisely, Molly dear. Choose wisely!

I always say that I want to live well and wisely my one wild and precious life and to me that means making conscious decisions every day to pull my actions into alignment with my values. It is an ongoing process. I live in a rich and fascinating world. I can do it!

Mindful Mama: Presence and Perfectionism in Parenting

Nov29

Being a mindful mama can be painful.

I am acutely aware of how often I fail, mess up, and let myself down in this work of conscious mothering. When I decide to go through a drive-through after a long day in town, I am very aware of each preservative laden, saturated fat heavy, factory-farmed, non-fair trade bite that crosses our lips. When I’m tired and have low energy for responsive parenting and I say “yes” my boys can watch a DVD, I know I am using it as a “babysitter” and as a “plug-in drug.” I cringe to hear myself say at times, “you guys are driving me crazy!” It is painful to know better and to watch myself do it anyway.

Listening to my Inner Critic

Instead of an inner guide, I too often listen to my inner critic. My judge. The perfect mama that sits on my shoulder and lets me know how often I screw it all up. I laugh sometimes as I reference the invisible panel of “good parents” that sits in my head judging me and finding me lacking.

For me, being a mindful mama is bound up in complicated ways with being a perfect mama; a “good mother.” In this way, it is NOT true mindfulness—I respond to my children based on how I think I should respond, how a “good mindful mama” would respond, not necessarily based on what is actually happening. Too often, I respond as I believe Dr. Sears, Jon Kabat-Zinn, or Marie Winn (The Plug in Drug) thinks I should respond, not based on reality or how we feel in the moment. This is the antithesis of true mindfulness. Mindfulness means an awareness of what is, it does not mean a constant monitoring of how I have failed. If I cannot be flexible and compassionate with myself, how do I expect to be a flexible and compassionate mother?

I am harsh and relentless in my own assessment of myself. Listening to the inner clamor of how to “be good” and “do it right,” prevents me from tuning in to what my children are really doing and really need in the moment. It is difficult to hear my own authentic voice, the still, small voice within, amidst the shouting in my head produced by all my reading and ideas.

This realization also forces me to acknowledge how often my mothering is about ME and not about my children. Too often my mothering springs from a preoccupation with being a “good mother”—i.e. making this all about me, me, ME—rather than about my children in the moment.

Meet Perfect Mama

I’m sure many of you know Perfect Mama—she gives birth with joy and ease, preferably at home and possibly unassisted. She breastfeeds responsively and for as long as her child needs—even through subsequent pregnancies and babies. She uses cloth diapers, or even better, no diapers at all because she practices elimination communication. She eats only organic foods and is perhaps vegetarian or vegan. She is always happy and creative and ready to play. She homeschools. She stays home, or, she effortlessly balances fulfilling work with a baby on her hip. She babywears and co-sleeps and grows her own food. She is “green” in her life and buying habits. She does not circumcise and she never forgets to boycott Nestle. Her family does not watch TV. She uses gentle, patient, loving discipline—no snapping or snarling. She never yells or gets angry and she never, never feels resentful or irritable.

I see in myself, in my friends, and in online communities, a ready tendency to judge or evaluate other mothers based on this inner checklist of good, “natural mothering” behaviors/practices, rather than seeing her as who and how she really is. There is also the tendency to hide the “ugly” parts ourselves or the parts that don’t conform to the checklist.

I actually meet many of the criteria on this checklist and in many ways (at least on paper!) I am “Perfect Mama.” Except, I do not always do it all with a smile on my face. That is my major failure. I am painfully aware—mindful—that, though I always love my children, I do not love every single moment I spend with them. It hurts to recognize and confess that I do not always cherish and adore being a mother. When I look past all the “right answers” on the checklist, guess what is left? Just me. For better or for worse.

I’m afraid that many of us trade the rigidity and prescribed values and ideals of the dominant culture, for a new set of natural family living values that we cling to with just as much rigidity and dogma.

If I look at being a mindful mama as an entity, a goal, an ideal to achieve, an assignment on which to get an A, then I’ve missed much of the point. Being a mindful mama isn’t about a rigid constellation of proper behaviors and ideas. It isn’t about struggling to conform to a mold. It is about being there, showing up, being present for life as it unfolds, and offering myself to my children fully, imperfectly, and whole. Cultivating self-acceptance alongside the “witness.” And, picking up the pieces when I fall, and trying again.

Finding My Authentic Mothering Wisdom

I continue to discover how I might clear our mental space to find my own authentic mothering wisdom. I am learning that being a mindful mama isn’t truly about a specific collection of beliefs and behaviors—the checklist—but is about responsiveness and presence.

I open my heart and vow to be here now. To tune in—to really look and breathe and smell and hear. Perhaps if I throw out the checklist, it is enough to look daily upon my life and my children with gratitude and love. To pause in the moment and drink it in. To really see my little ones before me. To stretch my arms wide to embrace them and to embrace the flow of life. To hold myself in the inner light of love and compassion. To try to do better—but in moving forward, rather than looking back with harshness and self-criticism. Perhaps I can love and accept right here, right now, even if that nowness sometimes involves a Happy Meal, or a raised voice, or red food coloring, or an Elmo movie.

Perhaps parenting authentically, from the heart, can’t be learned in a book or through application of a theory, but only through being there and being aware—of both the beauty and the messiness. Perhaps it means a loosening of attachment to attachment parenting as a prescribed set of practices and beliefs. Perhaps it means being a more loving friend to my own imperfect self.

Molly Remer, MSW, ICCE is a certified birth educator, writer, and activist. She is a breastfeeding counselor, editor of the Friends of Missouri Midwives newsletter, and a professor of Human Services. She has two wonderful sons, Lann and Zander, and one delightful infant daughter, Alaina and lives in central Missouri. She blogs about birth at https://talkbirth.wordpress.com, midwifery at http://cfmidwifery.blogspot.com, and miscarriage at http://tinyfootprintsonmyheart.wordpress.com.

Mindful Mama: Presence & Perfectionism in Parenting by Molly Remer, was published in Natural Life, July/August, 2011,

What Am I Thankful For?

Nov24

Many people have been participating in the Facebook tradition of posting something they’re thankful for as their status throughout November. A friend of mine collected all of hers into a Thanksgiving blog post, noting that they seem more powerful when all collected into one place. I thought that was a great idea and so I’m following suit! I’ve written recently about how blogging counts as valuable writing and I also think that the seeds of many a good blog post can be found in Facebook statuses and comments. While usually written in a different, very casual manner, I often save things I’ve posted to Facebook to use as “kernels” from which to germinate new blog posts.

So, during November, I have been thankful for:

Bedtime. On a day, “where my kids were manic, wild little beasts and I was a frazzle-haired crabatron.”

a class full of (mostly) interested and engaged students who seem to really be *clicking* with the material. I really got a great group at FLW this session. I’m having lots of fun with them!
safe travels and for Kindle
when I got rear-ended this afternoon, it was just a little bump and nothing more serious!
well water–I always feel confused when people say they “don’t like water” or that they have to force themselves to drink water. Water is my favorite drink! But, then I go somewhere with city water and suddenly I understand!
On the second anniversary of the miscarriage-birth of my tiny son Noah. I’ve been thankful today for Alaina who fills our lives with such joy and I’m thankful that I got to spend his birthday on the “other side” of the pregnancy after loss journey with her, and I’m thankful for Noah and the gifts he brought to our lives–I feel like he made it possible for us to have her and I’m so thankful for that. We remembered him tonight with a candle by his tree and moonlit labyrinth walk while we listened to a special song.
smooth, safe travels and home sweet home.
that I had a flat tire at the geology museum parking lot today rather than at FLW last night! And, I’m thankful for my wonderful husband who dropped everything to come to the rescue (not only did he put on the spare, he traded cars with me so I took the kids home in his car, while he kept mine in town and is going to take it to get a new tire).
the military service of Mark’s late dad, LaRoy, who was disabled in Vietnam. He made many personal sacrifices in his service, but one of the gifts of that service was that Mark’s college education was paid for–meaning our family continues to benefit today by having no student loans. I often feel thankful for LaRoy for that!
an active, engaged online class this session.
quiet time alone to write!(and for a normal nap from baby girl today–I’m also thankful that she remains a precious, good-spirited treasure even on days when she doesn’t nap very well)
my mom, who keeps trekking to the Fort with me each week so that Alaina doesn’t have to be separated. I really appreciate it! (and her only reward, aside from spending time with the greatness that is A and me, is a salad from Panera)
pictures from our family photo shoot today! Feeling thankful for Karen today (see photo below).
my husband, who takes care of so many things each morning that I often overlook or take for granted (maybe because I’m busy still snoozing and snuggling in bed with the baby when he’s getting ready for work!) He takes care of the animals, makes me tea, does the dishes, etc. (Today got all of the towering mounds of recycling packed up to take to the recycling center.)
the past TEN months of baby girlness in our house!
my Kindle. I love being able to carry 600 or so books around with me wherever I go! It is like magic.
that I get to say things in my home like, “Lann! Those birth goddesses aren’t baked! Did you hear me? The goddesses aren’t baked!!” ♥ my boys and my life!
that the busyness of the day involves finally getting to meet an out-of-town friend’s new baby, celebrating a beautiful mama at a blessingway, and teaching a class tonight that I enjoy!
a great class tonight–I have some really fun students!
courageous birthing women, for midwives of all varieties, for magnificent babies, for loving fathers, for dedicated doulas, for committed birth activists, for inspirational childbirth educators, and for the everyday, transformative miracle of birth.

And, heck, I should add that I’m thankful for Facebook, because of how it allows me to maintain connections with friends who have moved away as well as for daily check ins with local friends and with family near and far. Also, for the idea-sharing, thought-provoking discussions, points of connection and inspiration, and being able to reach out to the broad birth activism world and to pregnant mamas through my business pages. That thankfulness makes me remember that I am thankful for this blog as well, which gives me the opportunity and avenue to reach out to touch the lives of many women and people around the world, rather than simply in my own little corner.

Some are mundane and some are more profound and there is some repetition, but all make up the texture of daily life.

Happy Thanksgiving!

A lot of my thankfulness reasons all in one place!

Top Ten Things I Love About Having a Baby

Nov23

The winter holiday season remains linked with pregnancy loss for me. This time last year, I was entering the final stretch of my pregnancy-after-loss journey and feeling so hopeful that I would have a happy ending to my loss story. This time two years ago, I was reeling from Noah’s birth and it was so very difficult to experience the holidays without being pregnant after all. I feel like this whole first year with Alaina has represented another “circuit” in the labyrinth of pregnancy loss, pregnancy-after-loss, and then new baby. I feel like I have to make another complete “round” of the year, passing through all of those significant dates and milestones that I experienced first as a post-loss mama and as a PAL mama, but getting to take another lap, this time holding my new baby. Each time I pass another date, I feel almost like waving—here we go…together!

So, in this time of thanksgiving, I want to share the

Top Ten Things I Love About Having a Baby

Should have had Karen take a picture of the back of A's neck for me--as it is, this is the best I could do!

Morning lounge-nursing
The bent back of her neck as she seriously examines something.
The way she rides on my hip and snuggles her head in on my shoulder.
Being a little person’s one and only–the most loved and most desired companion. (To be fair, this is one of the hard parts too. It can be exhausting to be needed most of the day and night.)
How curious she is and how quickly she notices something new–and how closely and seriously she studies and examines and explores it.
Babywearing.
Her fuzzy hair. Smelling her head.
How she meets my eyes across the room, or while nursing, or in any instance when she is surprised or startled, or even just noticing something—she checks it out with her home base. It is an honor to be so trusted.
Experiencing the thrill of discovery through her eyes.
Having a baby! Being one of the babymamas. Being a mamatoto. It just feels really right to have a baby on my hip and at my breast.

Trusting gaze

Big girl! (but checking in to see if all is well--she's looking at me in this picture).

Happy Thanksgiving!

Full Moon Calendar Mandala

Nov15

I drew this full moon calendar mandala as part of an assignment for one of the classes I’m taking (we are working on our “wheel of the year” and holidays, etc.). While it was not specifically part of the assignment to do so, I found that drawing this mandala image helped me to explore and express my ideas. It contains the dates of all the full moons in 2012, as well as representations of the waxing and waning moons for the entire year. I initially set this to post as private, so it wouldn’t be visible to my blog readers and would only be available to my class, but then I reconsidered and thought other people might be interested in seeing it as well: