suburban boho misfit

Coming Clean

2010-05-10T04:12:00.003-07:00

So, I've been a little dishonest. You know that project I was telling you about months ago? The one I said I'd give myself until the end of the year to finish? Well, all this third trimester insomnia has been really productive. I've got a brand new blog. Or two.

I've had a blast at boho misfit, but felt as though I've been growing out of it for some time. I needed a fresh perspective and a new palate. Or two. I do hope you join me at my new space(s).Here is the main blog, if you come along, you can follow the links to the others if you like as well.

HerbMother

Celebrating the Belly

2010-05-07T03:46:00.000-07:00

belly cast henna

37 weeks on Saturday! Got the birthing pool and all supplies at home. Now just waiting for baby!

Still Alive

2010-04-14T21:21:00.000-07:00

I'm still here, just very very pregnant. And computer chairs are not good for swollen feet. Spring is so amazing in the desert we are spending all our free time outside, the rest of the time is spent napping. I am an incubator right now after all. Missing all you bloggy lovelies. Hope to be back more regularly soon.

Still Doing the Laundry

2010-04-05T12:23:00.002-07:00

Did you buy it yet? Maybe you won't have too.

Enter to win a copy of Maezen's Book

I know this is starting to seem like a blog homage to KMM, but well, I love her what can I say.

Too tired, too pregnant, to busy chasing toddler's to blog. But not too tired to read.

From The Bottom of My Basket

2010-03-23T11:29:00.002-07:00

It was Maezen who first welcomed me to the odd world of online journaling. The first bloggy person I 'met.'

It was Maezen who showed me that things take time.

It was Maezen who assured me reading and writing were two sides of the same thing.

It was Maezen who reminded me to reach out when I felt abandoned and alone.

It was Maezen who said to me change, in any direction, was good.

It was Maezen who agreed with me that:We always know what is less. When we try to convince ourselves that more is less, then we make a mess.

It was Maezen who told me I was brilliant.

It was Maezen who introduced me to Elissa, who told me I have something to offer the world that no one else can.

It was Maezen who saw in me the superabundance I already had but thought I needed to find.

It was Maezen who challenged me that it was just best not to think.

It was Maezen who encouraged me to take the Plunge.

But it was me, who finally put away the laundry.

I thank her for walking beside me down the crooked path to motherhood. I will gladly follow her to the bottom of the laundry basket. And suggest if you have any dirty laundry, that you do the same.

Hand Wash Cold: Care Instructions for an Ordinary Life, available for pre-order now.

what would abigail do?

2010-03-19T13:13:00.004-07:00

Self Portrait Challenge, With Someone Week 3. I'm not alone I promise.

The last days have been a bit of a challenge. Drew has been working a ton of overtime, and while we are grateful for the extra dough, it puts an imbalance in the household. My usually helpful and amazingly modern husband, has been unavailable for the many things he contributes at home while he is contributing to our bank account. For one, mama has little to no time to herself. Selfish, I know. But as a modern stay-at-home-mom, I've gotten used to all the conveniences we often like to call women's rights or something. Don't get me wrong, I'm all for the idea that as moms we have to remember to take time for ourselves, but honestly do we really have it that bad?

We recently began watching the series John Adams from Netflix. For me, more striking than the story of our second president is that of his wife, Abigail. It is an HBO series, but all dramatizations aside, this was one tough chick. While John was away laying the foundation of our country, she was home alone in the country with four children battling small pox, chopping firewood, mixing manure, tending the orchard, offering water to soldiers as they passed by her home, scrubbing the floors on her hands and knees, making bullets from scratch, and readying her gun as the British grew closer. All. On. Her. Own. And she had it 'easy.' With a deep desire to go back to handmade and homemade I've been channeling the women of yore. Reading books, watching movies, googling late into the night. The one thing I keep coming back to is how so much of this is a choice for me. A delicious, beautiful, and creative, but privileged choice. So lately, when things get a little tough (entertaining the 2-year-old for the 3rd straight day without a break, discovering I've run out of organic cream for the homemade ice cream too late in the process, not being able to take a decent picture on my DSLR without constant interruption, waking up to another load of dishes in the sink...), I've been channeling Abigail.

This morning proved yet another opportunity for me to call upon this strong soul of a woman. I woke up on the wrong side of the bed, every little thing after another going wrong. And I could just not get out of my funk. My dear husband did do the dishes, but in the process the garbage disposal somehow stopped working. Not one of those it's clogged sort of things, but a whiny-clicking sound from the motor just before it shut off so it wouldn't overheat and blow up the house sort of things. Won-der-ful. After he left for work, I was even more distraught. You see, I'm planning a big Spring equinox dinner for my family (12 people folks!) on Sunday and I could not be without a garbage disposal or at the very least a draining sink. And honestly, this stuff is supposed to be 'man shit' right? But knowing he would be tired after working many long days, I couldn't count on him to do it in a timely manner.

So, I made myself a cup of organic loose leaf tea with almond milk and local farmer's market honey, and said to myself: "What would Abigail do?" I pulled out the manual and started reading. I grabbed the 'ol Do-it-herself toolkit, flashlight, and plunger and got to work. With all her strength and tenacity on my side, I fixed the damn thing. All. On. My. Own. The immediate sense of power I felt permeated through the house and was almost too much for my 2-year-old as she eyed me strangely when I was done... Or maybe it was the Xena pose and the loud roar I made. Either way, I felt like I could handle anything I was a goddess. Or maybe just a tough-ass first lady. First lady of my house.

Come on In!

2010-03-17T05:40:00.000-07:00

Corner View: Front Door

See more front doors around the world above.

The muertas keeping the bad mojo out, always there to greet you. Outfitted for the season.

If you were to open our door at any random moment you might see this:

Our nature table, just as you walk in.

Keeping Up

2010-03-16T14:38:00.002-07:00

Guess I wasn't as inspired as I thought to keep blogging. I'm just tired really. Can't seem to get on top of it. Woke up on the couch just moments ago with a squishy bucket of love wrapped in my arms. The scary part is I'm not even sure how it happened. She was playing, I was watching, next thing I woke up with her spooned in close Cyndi Lauper blaring on the mp3. Not feeling like writing much, so I thought I'd take a cue from this inspired post.

**super balls bouncing on the patio, dried beet chips for breakfast, neil diamond and cyndi lauper, soap suds everywhere but the kitchen sink, sunflowers, green goddess for lunch, surprise snuggles and a shared nap, canning tomato sauce, radish sprouts, quiet moment alone**

Yourself With Someone

2010-03-11T23:43:00.008-07:00

Project number 2 to keep me blogging:

Sometime in December, while I was in one of my many 'i've lost myself' crises, I joined the flikr group Self Portrait Challenge. Delving into a new found love of photography, it was easy to play along for a while. Then something happened. I sorta lost interest in the camera. Just like that. I think I reached the capacity of my own learning and started to get frustrated with my limitations. I was not improving my skills, and being a part of this group, while an amazing learning experience, is oh so humbling for the girl that is always so good at everything. So I just sorta gave up.

Just when I was beginning to think I had exhausted yet another short-lived hobby, Jeremy posted this month's theme: 'With Someone.' I was inspired. My word for the year is community. During all that crazy searching in December one of the things I realized was how important a village can be when you are raising a family. I've always been a solitary sorta gal, but now I needed support. Little by little I reached out and in the last months I have begun to build some amazing relationships I never knew could exist. So as soon as I read the theme, I knew it was time to get that camera out again and really stretch myself artistically as my body was already doing so physically. In just two weeks I have learned a thing or two about communing.

Taking pictures of other people is really hard. For all the other SPC's I could spend as much time as I needed setting up a shot, adjusting the camera settings and clicking away. When you are asking someone else to sit for you however, that feeling of unlimited time disappears. Suddenly, you are taking up their time, de-intimizing (is that a word?) their moment. It's kinda invasive and a little strange. But putting me on the spot is really testing my skills, especially in post production processing. Here are the first two weeks, both surrounding birth -- surprise. Click on each picture for a little bit more detail about the person and the shot.

Week 1

Week 2

The best thing about this project is hearing how supportive and willing my people are. Even though I feel a bit strange, no one has even wavered when I've asked them to be a part of my little arty moment. And to my self-doubting self, (who am I to call myself an artist), they've even seemed somewhat excited about it.

**On a side note, I think this 3rd trimester insomnia is going to be good for blogging!**

Going back to what works

2010-03-09T22:51:00.001-07:00

Corner View: Miniature Worlds

My blogging has been a little spotty these days. Since I miss it so much, but need some inspiration, I'm joining a couple of group blogging events to get me back in the habit of posting and giving me some breaks in between writing and taking pictures. I love the idea of group journaling. It brings us closer together even as strangers. That we have something similar to say or show even though we are worlds apart.

The first is Corner View, which I've done before and loved it so much I decided to go at it again. Check out the rest of the miniature worlds around the world.

Sevi's Fairy bucket from handmade birthday

the pond

the arbor

the sitting area

So...the funniest thing happened. Last week, when I checked out Spain Daily to see what the corner view theme was, I read 'miniature words.' So I went around the house the last few days photographing small words. I put together this whole post, uploaded pictures, and when I went to grab the link from SD, I noticed that little letter l. A small single stroke, but significant in meaning. Just thought I'd share in case you needed a chuckle...and hey Jane, maybe a theme for next week?

Surrender

2010-03-08T11:04:00.003-07:00

'When I think I know what's best for me, fate she takes me back to exactly where I need to be.'

Amy Steinberg's Exactly

Isn't it beautiful how easily children respond to their instincts? When they are hungry, they announce it or tired, fall asleep anywhere. I was getting into this great rhythm, or so I thought. Blogging regularly, handmade projects going well, house fairly clean, sitting down together for dinners every night, even some regular-ish preschool stuff going on each morning. I started having visions of mini-pro blogging with a sponsor or two, a following, and maybe a mention in some artful blog or mom blog magazine somewhere. Little dreams of a simple mommy blogger that occur when things are going well. Then, we got tired. All of us. Drew's nursing a month-long cold that seemed to worsen with the warm weather, Sevi finally caught it and is having trouble sleeping, and I'm fully into my third trimester with baby growing, eating, and dancing all night. I love coming to this space to talk about my life loves. I need it, but lately, I've been napping instead. Why is it so hard to slow down? When I wake from each nap, the afternoon is full of guilt counting all the things I could have done. Though I know I could probably get more done once I slept and got some energy, I can't convince myself to just let go.

But last week we surrendered completely. To the exhaustion of a house with small children and a life full and complete. We finally gave ourselves permission to rest. We traded activities and plans, homemade dinners, and evenings at the park for sleeping in, frozen leftovers and movie marathons. I only wish I could always do it as easily as she does.

Belonging

2010-03-04T17:00:00.003-07:00

Photo by Jessamyn
It is a season of new beginnings. Spring is close and I feel her request to birth something new. The freshness of the air, the light of the sun, the fullness of my garden matching that of my belly. It's going to be a good year. The first of many of these birthings happened last Friday night. I was invited to my first RAW night. These Random Art Workshops popping up in cities near you, are the brainchild of Jenica, a Utah bloggy mommy from whom I have gathered so much wisdom in the last months. Though we've never met, I am drawn to her sometimes in a creepy 3rd grade crush sort of way. Anyway, (see she gets me sidetracked) she encouraged me to join a Phoenix RAW group and foster some new friendships. So I went.

Photo by Jessamyn

This night was so full of acceptance, friendship, learning, and encouragement. Since Sevilla was born I have longed to find a tribe of women, or even a few friends, who share my passion for attachment parenting, wholistic living, unschooling, making, or just general bohoness. Don't get me wrong, I cherish every single mama soul I call friend deeply regardless of our differences. And am ever grateful for their continued support no matter how strange or estranged I may seem with regard to my choices. But it's hard sometimes to be a little different, to not have someone who knows where you are and can relate...because they are too. As you know, it's one of the reasons I added the misfit to my blog.

Photo by Jessamyn
Nervous to share my art (i even wanted to put that in quotations), I brought a couple of things so I could decide based on the mood: a blank canvas for my birth affirmations and some yarn and needle for baby's blanket. That night, the most magical thing happened. I haven't crocheted since I made Sevi's blanket, and then I was guided by a wonderful mommy whose babes had left the nest. This time around, I didn't have that luxury so I was struggling to remember how to begin. Just as I was about to give up on the yarn and grab my canvas, Abby walked in, with only a bundle of yellow yarn and a single needle. I was speechless. You see, most folks I know who work with yarn, knit, but she was a crocheter and she came to this RAW night. It was divine. Immediately I knew the affirmation canvas would have to wait. She reminded me how to begin, turn, and hook my yarn, and my blanket, much like these new friendships, began to take shape.

photo by Jessamyn

I am so grateful Jessamyn started this group. We've been bloggy friends for some time though only met once. I was always afraid I wasn't boho enough or something, and safely kept my distance. So I went with some apprehension, as is always the case for me when meeting new people. But I was instantly warmed by the presence of these beautiful, open souls baring their creativity and love by candlelight and India Arie. I was loved, I was in company, I was home.

Photo by Jessamyn

Go now create a RAW night in your community. Gather some women, maybe you know them well, maybe you don't, but gather anyway. Put on some music, light a candle
Make Art. Belong. Get RAW.

Meeting My Spirit Plant

2010-02-27T05:44:00.001-07:00

I'm about to return to a Botanical Conference that changed my life. Last April, as a gift from the universe I was able to go for free. At a time when we had no money for such a thing, I was exceptionally grateful. I can point to that day as THE catalyst for everything that followed and so many positive changes in our lives. I'm so glad to know how far I've come. This post was a never before posted draft of my reflections that beautiful day.

I don’t consider myself a religious person or a nonbeliever. I’m one of those who use that vague expression: “I would call myself spiritual,” whatever that means. I’m too cynical to be a true believer. Maybe it’s from being dragged on my mother’s adventures of finding herself through church; but from the cult-like Herbert W. Armstrong to your modern Christian non-denominational equipped with a rock band and 20 year old pastor, I’ve seen it all and still I had yet to experience an invocation of the spirit.

So it was with great surprise that, I found myself completely taken in by a meditation of sorts. I went to a Botanical Medicine Conference in Tempe where my aunt is studying to be an herbalist. I was looking forward to a weekend of lectures about gardening, using your food as medicine, and general advice on living a free-range life. I had no idea what I was about to experience.

On Saturday, I signed up for an afternoon lecture on Flower Essences, sun teas made from the flowers of plants that are then turned into tinctures used in homeopathic medicine. Hoping to learn a bit more about the Bach Rescue Remedies and how they are able to help children in times of stress, I instead, met my spirit plant.

As I walked out onto the lawn of the herb garden, where the ‘lecture’ was to be held I spotted a patch of sunlight and settled myself down. Also gathered on the lawn were your averages hippies with their dreadlocks smelling proudly of patchouli drinking herbal tea from mason jars, a few mom types complete with mom jeans and giant cloth bags from random fundraisers, and a couple of Sedona-style new agers with their silver jewelry, black yoga outfits, and $200 haircuts.

When the herbalist, Rhonda, walked up I kept looking around for the main presenter. Well into her forties she easily could have passed for twenty something. With wispy blond hair, bare feet, and a youthful smile the only thing that gave her away was the sun kissed age shown on her cheeks and eyes, a result of living a lifetime in the desert. I was swept away by the flowery freedom of her rose-colored skirt peppered with poppies that seemed to dance with the song of the wind and the relaxed cadence of her speech pronouncing every syllable with purpose as if not to waste a single breath.

As she began to speak, like a child I looked up, my chin raised, my mouth agape, catching her every word. She raced through her bio and history with flower essences to move on to the main event: we were to participate in the creation of an essence this very day. Cool, I thought at first, thinking it would be some sort of lab-like experience similar to chemistry 101. I couldn’t have been more wrong.

She began by talking about our relationship to nature and plants – and yes, the cynic in me crept in. But she was referring to our need for them as a survival tools so I hung on for a bit more as she explained how they need us too. In creating a flower essence, she said, it is important to show gratitude to the plant in order to pull out all its healing properties and energy and asked us to offer the plant some cornmeal she had brought. Still a bit skeptical, I tossed the cornmeal over to the garden without much thought. I wasn’t looking for a spiritual retreat this weekend, but some real education about our relationship with food as medicine – from a measurable, scientific perspective. But her inviting cadence and soft eyes kept my attention so I played along.
She asked us all to stand in a circle on the lawn under a large canopy of trees. “Think about your intention for this essence,” she requested. “Why are you called here today to partake of this plant?” Wanting to give it my best effort, I started to think about what I needed in my life. Immediately I came up with forgiveness, I needed to forgive; to be more open to others’ choices and let go of my judgment and close-mindedness. This seemed fitting as it could help in this very moment as well.

Next we were asked to give our hand to the person to our right and receive the hand of the person to our left – a perfect expression of yin and yang. As I stood there holding the hand of two strangers, I started to hear the scenery which I had almost overlooked: the birds whizzing by in excitement and fear, the rustle of the leaves against the wind, the laughter off in the distance, how the sun shone through the trees making cool little shapes on the lawn. Rhonda got into her routine with giving thanks to the four directions, a small prayer and an Indian song about gratitude we were all asked to join her in singing. Then, she revealed the flower we were to extract the essence from: the sunflower.

In the herb garden at the naturopathic college in Tempe stands a 9 foot tall sunflower. Its head is larger than a basketball and its leaves, the shape of hearts, bigger than any man’s hands. It was clear why this plant was chosen, or why it chose us. She asked us to join her in the garden, and to stand near a sunflower. Then, she began to tell us its story.

The sunflower is a plant with far reaching roots. They will sometimes travel several miles in search of water piping it under the cool ground back to its center. She asked us to close our eyes and remove our shoes, to feel the hard desert earth underneath our feet soften and our toes dig deep into the soil. She asked us to stretch down until we hit the wet soft earth and meet the root of the sunflower.

Maybe it was the heat, or the fact I hadn’t eaten much that day, but at once I was met. I no longer felt the hot sharp pebbles on my feet, but the cool milky branches of the sunflower root twisting between my toes. I saw a painting of a mother, looking over a lawn full of children and family, erect and tall whose legs had curved beneath the earth and whose arms showered them all with a rainbow of flowers. Rhonda then asked us to follow the roots of the flower miles to its stem, to feel the pithy strength of a stem that was often used as thread in native cultures. She led us up to the large heart shaped leaves spilled out as if to offer a handshake or a hug to anyone who walked by. They lifted themselves around me and enveloped me. Finally, she asked us to greet the large yellow disk and turn ourselves, like the flower, in the direction of the sun. As I turned completely around to feel the burning sun on my face, I felt no one, saw no one, heard nothing but her soft voice: “Wouldn’t it be wonderful, if among all our stress, our pain, our judgment, when our lives seem the most difficult, we could, like the sunflower, turn toward the sun and let in the light?”

Immediately I burst into a fit of tears, drenching myself in all the judgment I had so quickly passed on others. She had never asked us to reveal our intentions out loud, but there mine was answered. Maybe I was a believer after all.

She pulled us back to the spot on the lawn letting us each make a small bottle of sunflower essence from the large clear bowl of sunflowers and water that had been steeping in the sun. She thanked us for sharing, as she had done many times that day, and I went on to finish the rest of my conference with what I expected: educational lectures on food and medicine. Ever the cynic, I’m not sure if taking a few drops of my sunflower essence is mood altering or anything, but, in my darkest moments, I instantly feel my feet wet and cold searching through the soft earth looking to entangle my toes with the root of the sunflower; knowing she will help me find the sun and let in the light.

This Moment

2010-02-26T10:23:00.001-07:00

Inspired by SouleMama a Friday moment. How's your week shaping up?

Ready or Not

2010-02-22T14:49:00.000-07:00

Wasn't she just the cutest? Well, this was last year. I had so much fun doing the handmade birthday, I'm making plans for a St. Patty/Spring Equinox celebration. Totally, people, I'm addicted. But, I figured I'd start a little earlier this time. Right now I'm gathering ideas and doing some research. I'd appreciate any fun ideas, websites, food, crafts etc that would help us along. Please please. Let's get this handmade life on the road.

Handmade Spa

2010-02-21T15:27:00.000-07:00

I made my first beauty product! Well if you don't count deoderant. I have chronic yucky eczema. This lovely stuff is made with shea butter and hibiscus as the main ingredients. I've been using it for about a month along with taking extra fish oil and my eczema has NOT reappeared. Yippie Kye Yay! I love making medicine, but I'm totally hooked on the bath and body stuff now and have ordered way too much from Mountain Rose. I've got ingredients for a moisturizer, shampoo, and facial scrub so far. Not to mention the lovely bath salt I'm making for Sevi's Birthday. My midwife is prescribing sea salt baths a couple of times a week so it's really her fault.

I think I have officially crossed over. Definately a little more boho than suburbia these days. Wonder what I'll make next...

Accidental Photographer

2010-02-19T09:29:00.000-07:00

When I first began blogging, I was a huge chicken. I used Drew's pictures to compliment my pieces, feeling as though my naked writing needed a held hand before it could be left alone on the page. As I became more and more brave, my need to tell a complete story became severe and personal. His images no longer said what I needed to say and my words no longer needed his hand. It's was if this need to create something, to explore a side of me I've oppressed for so many years, won't be satisfied until I've tried it all.

I started thinking about images that would complement, complete, introduce, or set the tone for my stories. I started playing around with the camera, and even learned a thing or two about light and exposure. And I think I've taken a small handful of really amazing shots. To my surprise, I've also found it's a pretty kid friendly thing to do--so far. Sevi loves the camera and if I snap a couple of her and show them to her every once in a while, I can actually get lost in two hours and 100 pictures of a bowl of grapefruit. Much more than I can say for writing, wherein no matter what room she is in, with a single click of the keyboard she comes running and wants to play on the 'coputer' too.

The most ironic thing is, the other boho misfit has been trying to get me to take pictures with him for years and I could just never get into it. So now we play together sometimes and it's been a surprising match. I'm impressed how patient we both are with each other when we're snapping away at a little glass of tea for three hours well past our bedtime. We seem to be in this great stream lately where we finish each other's sentences, remember odd things the other wanted to do, and anticipate comments and actions. We are enjoying each other so much. And it pretty much beats the pants off of watching four hours of T.V. after work.

I guess it's all part of this shift we've taken as a family. You know when people talk about being 'mindful.' Hate to beat a dead horse, but it really boils down to simply paying attention. And once I paid attention to that, I'm finding it's pretty easy to do.

Savoring

2010-02-18T16:46:00.000-07:00

After 10 days of preparation, 36 hours of a whirlwind handmade birthday complete with guests from out of town, my girl and I leave the dishes and put our feet up. We are too busy enjoying a day full of pizza and pancake leftovers, a movie marathon, and lots of snuggles. And you better believe I'm savoring every single second of it.

Terrific Two's

2010-02-17T10:42:00.009-07:00

Happy 2, my sweet girl. Thank you for choosing me.

Hot Air?

2010-02-16T00:58:00.000-07:00

This amazing beauty flew over our house today. Besides having sevi in a craze the entire time, it got me thinking. Can I really pull this thing off or am I just full of it? So far everything is working out.

However, the only thing that stands in the way of a perfect handmade birthday is the cake. I've finished all the parts but the cake. Everything, and I mean everything, has gone off without a single hitch. I'm not trying to sound arrogant or anything. Honestly, it's kinda nerve wracking. Not that I expected failure, it's just that I always anticipate a bump or two. And this time I was prepared, no worries. I'm not taking myself too seriously for this. But this ease of preparation is almost too much for this recovering pessimist to handle.

So since I have nothing to worry about, I'm making something up. Here I am, awake at 1:00 am, a little too nervous to sleep. I can't stop thinking about the cake. The central part of a wonderful handmade birthday. Still left to tackle. And did I mention I have never baked a cake before? But I'm trying hard to keep an optimistic attitude. It's worked so far. I think it's the reason things have been working out. Maybe I'll figure out I'm not just full of hot air afterall.

Suzie homemaker

2010-02-15T00:21:00.001-07:00

butter, shaken not stirred

I finally got around to making butter. Turns out it's really easy. Forgot to take pictures, here's what's left of it. But I got two more cartons of cream so more picts to come after the handmade birthday is over. As far as that goes, I'm doing pretty well. Sunday is usually foodprep day for me. We start with a visit to the farmer's market in the morning, stop at the park to play then home to cook. So between preparing regular foodstuffs and birthday it was quite a busy day.

lemon curd, one part of birthday cake

I've finished almost all of the cake parts, the birthday crown and banner, baked 3 loaves of bread (more butter to follow!), prepared 3 custards for ice cream, and prepped the pizza dough. My feet are killing me. Drew worked in the garden all day and we had an amazing farmer's market lunch outside.

What a life. Today, ironically though, since it would be her servants doing what I did, I really felt like a queen.

beginning of birthday crown

Two more days to go. Wish me luck!

Handmade Birthday

2010-02-11T11:11:00.000-07:00

Well I've finally become a mom. It's official. I remember when I first started this blog, at the prompting of other mommy friends who were already mommy blogging away, I vowed it would never become a mommy blog. This was back in the day when I was still in denial over the whole thing. "It doesn't have to change my lifestyle." or "I'm never gonna be one of those mom's who are all about the kids." Two phrases that I carried like a badge. Funny how good we are at planning parenting life when we don't have kids. The honest truth is once I let go of my struggle, I really started liking the whole mom thing. And it turns out, not to sound too big for my britches, I'm not too bad at it either. So this year for Sevilla's second birthday, I've cooked up some exciting plans, all mom-ed out if you know what I mean.

Previously full of great fiction, travel guides, political nonfiction, and the occasional Economist magazine, my book stack is now loaded with mom books. Crafting, cooking, gardening, homeschooling, etc. And I can't get enough of them. I've called on some of the great moms (Mary Jane Butters, Amanda Blake Soule, and Amy Karol to name a few) to help me with my first ever 100% handmade birthday. I've even enlisted a few non kid experts. I've mapped out my plans, drawn the pie chart, and like any good type-A, made a list.

The best part was finding all the recipes and patterns to get it going. I even found a great new blog to spend more of the time I don't have reading. 17 and baking. It's a 17-year-old gal from Seattle, who bakes and blogs. In fact, I'm using the lavender ice cream she wrote about. Check it out if you have a moment and you're looking for new cooking blog fun. It's truly inspired.

I feel pretty confident. Sevi's birthday is on the 17th, Wednesay. I've already got 2 of the three sewing projects cut and pinned. And one of the birthday presents pretty much finished. The big daddy is the cake. I've chosen a tripple lemon job, for my girl who eats em like apples, and it takes 4 days. The recipe says and I quote, "It's okay to start a week ahead if that is more convenient." I'm really having a ball and don't care too much if something goes wrong. It's just for fun, and though it's disguised as a gift, it's all for me really. Do you think I can handle the challenge?

The Winds

2010-02-09T14:50:00.000-07:00

Ever since I got back from the Mother's Plunge, I feel different. That there is a peace about me I never noticed before. It's probably no coincidence that I began hypnobirthing classes at the same time and learned new ways to deal with stressful moments. But whatever it was, I feel refreshed. I've been doing a much better job at paying attention to each moment while I'm in it and letting go of the last bits of convention and shoulds I have swimming in my head. There's been less fighting, less tantrums (can she really already be over the terribles?), and really a lot more love being passed around our home. It has applied to our family and friends as well. Things seem to just be swimming in a good direction these days.

This gentle music in my home has me passionate about doing the things I've always dreamed again. I started working on my little secret project some more and have made a commitment to try to have it ready by the end of the year. I know it seems like a long time, but I need to remember to save some for my loves who continue to give me the energy to go after my dream. Every day it seems is filled with magic moments and new inspiration. The seasons are changing in Phoenix, and I am changing with them.

Finding hidden treasures is now my new hobby. And I want to spend every waking minute discovering. Here are a few more snapshots of the mother's plunge retreat.

Lost or Found?

2010-02-05T18:46:00.000-07:00

The computer's been at the doctor's for two weeks. Then it took us another week to get it put back together. And I can't say that I'm all that sorry. We've just been enjoying experiences without writing or photographing them. I feel refreshed. I have all these ideas about this blogging life, but honestly sometimes it gets in the way. Lately, we are getting ready to start harvesting, then preserving, getting ready for baby, healing and opening space in our hearts, reintroducing ourselves to the natural desert beauty that surrounds us, reading a real book, sharing time with friends, taking time for ourselves, improving our home, sleeping in with long snuggles. The blogging micromanages these experiences and ocasionally I welcome a break. But I look forward to showing up a bit more. Here's a quick preview of what we've been up to just so you're caught up.

The Nature of Nurture

2010-01-24T10:44:00.001-07:00

Until the moment you see in this picture, I had never given Sevilla baby doll. Never play fed her stuffed pig or her little lamb. I don't think of doing the girl stuff much. For some odd reason I was compelled to buy her this on an impulsive trip to Target. When I looked in the rear view mirror, I burst into a raincloud of tears so big I'm sure I was responsible for the humidity in Phoenix that day. She fed, hugged, besoed, soothed, and cooed her baby. All on her own.

Fully pregnant with another daughter, I often find myself reexamining my lost relationship with my mother. Though I've reached out and am working at building relationships with women, I'm a long way from feeling any sense of she-rah gentle goddess power. Not really ever having a tribe of women experience, I've always tried to compete with the boys. This has meant giving up a lot of the feminine stuff along the way.

But now I crave it. I guess that's what happens when you don't practice moderation. I worry that I won't give them the softness of a woman. I don't want them to feel like they have to choose between smart and successful and girl stuff. As Ani DiFranco says: Like the color of my lipstick is a sign of my declining mind. But when I watched sevi with the baby doll, I knew it is in there like a little imprinted memory. I just have to trust it and pay attention when I see it.