MOTHERHOOD CULT!

HOW TO RAISE FEMINIST BOYS: A PRIMER (IS WHAT I NEED).

2014-07-15T00:26:00.000-04:00

Raising four girls a la Little Women has long been a fantasy of mine. Naturally, Jo is my favorite March woman (you're crazy if she isn't yours too), with Marmee following at a close second. I have always found Marmee's parenting style to be quite inspiring: her beautiful example of empathy, the way she empowered her children to stand up for themselves and those around them, her nonviolent practices. I really could gush on and on.

I've also spent years existentially crisis-ing through my past experiences as an adolescent girl, scheming about how I could cultivate a life different -- better -- for my daughters than I had for myself, free of incessant self-doubt, self-hatred, all-girls-everywhere-hatred, perfectionism, submission, hyper-sacrifice, and over-apologization (coining this word now). You know, the basics. I'm not stupid or naive enough to say that I had it all worked out, but I had a plan in mind that I was truly excited to put into action and see where it took my daughter(s) and me.

And then I found out my first was a boy. Well, okay, that was an interesting twist, but in all likelihood another child would soon follow, and then maybe I could finally put my master plan into action. Strangely, my obsession with having a girl was so strong, it lead me to feel a lot of worry about the dynamics of the relationship between Real Life Son and Completely Made Up Daughter. I haven't an older brother, but those are often portrayed as fatherly, protective figures over younger sisters. Real Life Son's existence was seriously getting in the way of my creating a perfect life for Completely Made Up Daughter.

Today, I've got a fire engine obsessed toddler son who has a knack for turning absolutely everything into a vehicle of some kind, including that anatomically correct male Waldorf doll complete with cloth diaper that I bought him. Today, I also have boy 2.0 in utero. My aspirations about mothering my own little March-inspired clan will forever float above my head as mere daydreams. I am making choices about how to socialize my boys on a minute-by-minute basis, and I've recently realized that I'm going to have to come to grips with the fact that I need to get some new ideas in rotation. This is a challenge that excites me but also leaves me at a complete loss.

Internet, are you out there? It's me, MMC. I'm wondering how to go about raising feminist boys.

FATHER'S DAY FLOP.

2014-06-16T22:23:00.001-04:00

Yesterday was Father's Day and I blew it.

I will be honest and say that I didn't muster up the energy and creativity that is usually required for making a person feel special.

I woke up tired and grouchy, I messed up the meal I had in mind, and I didn't plan ahead. I went by the liquor store to pick up J's favorite drink, only to find I was too late and it was closed. Don't even ask me about the gift I bought because that didn't happen.

I will admit that I spent most of the day defensive, telling myself that we are "so over" these holidays, and because our budget is tight we had no options. I will say, however, that if we had skipped over Mother's Day, I would have felt hurt and my job as a mother would have felt even more thankless than it often does.

These holidays are stupid, yes, but sometimes when you're as lame as I am, you need public, nationwide shaming to make you stop being a jerk. Here goes.

Watching J army-crawl his way through the experience of becoming a father has been absolutely humbling. We started our journey of parenthood blindsided by fear, overwhelmed by change. The weeks and months following Finn's birth are nothing for me but a blur of ugly, painful, mascara tears (just kidding, I definitely wasn't together enough to be wearing mascara then). I get anxiety just recalling those memories. I felt swallowed whole by the experience. And yet, while I was adjusting to the demands of motherhood, J was adjusting to the demands of fatherhood and an extremely rigorous graduate school program simultaneously. The amount of pressure he had to perform under was inscrutable. And perform, he did.

For this summer season, J is staying home with Finn while I work. I am familiar with the rhythms of his days at home, having experienced them for most of Finn's life. They feel mostly slow and frustrating, with little bursts of pride, excitement, and maddening, deep love. Your spouse comes home tired, feeling overworked, and guilty about time spent away. You want nothing more than the small thrill of an adult conversation, a task completed start to finish, and to replenish the energy that somehow a day at home has drained. I can't imagine anything better for a parenthood partnership than for your typical roles to be reversed for a time. I am so grateful to find myself in a position that allows me to better empathize with the demands of the working parent and my appreciation for J has only deepened and my pride in him has completely soared.

J, when I think about where we started as parents and where we are today, I am overwhelmed with gratitude for the ways in which you've grown, as painful as those experiences have been for us. You have stretched through these growing pains in a way that I admire and you have developed into a father that even a control freak like me can't help but learn from. I would tell Finn how lucky he is to have you, but I know there is no need. I can tell he already knows that by the way I see him look at you every single day.

ON MOTHERING, OR NOT.

2014-05-12T01:10:00.000-04:00

As my years and experiences in this life add up, I feel a heaviness surrounding the celebration of Mother's Day. I wrestle with how I can best lend an ear or a shoulder to those I know who struggle with the role that motherhood has played in their lives. I shed tears with the couples close to me that must accept the frustrating and heartbreaking news of a negative pregnancy test each month. I lament with the friends and family who have had to say goodbye to their babies before even a look was exchanged. I pray that no one I know should have to face the devastating news that it is time to say goodbye to their infant or child.

Today, my dear friends, I think of you. I struggle, deeply, with the guilt of knowing that I have been blessed with something that you long for. I ask your forgiveness for the times in which I have taken my role of motherhood for granted, especially in your presence, and thank you for how gracious you have been in the midst of my shortsightedness and selfishness. I am so very grateful for the ways that you have mothered me and my own children -- we need you. Whether you are a mother, or you desperately long to someday be one, or have chosen another vocation entirely, I lend my support as you discern your identity and purpose both in and outside of motherhood.

BABY TWO.

2014-03-26T23:06:00.000-04:00

So we're having another baby.

This time feels very different: it was planned (yep, that's new to us), I haven't been nearly as sick thus far, I sort of know what to expect (I will laugh at myself for saying this later), and I already have one and thus understand all the vast mysteries of life. So far my "symptoms" include a bit of barfing, lots of headaches, insomnia, sciatica, and lots of first trimester lower-lip-quivering crying. Which brings me to a list of things I have pregnancy-hormone cried over (which should not be confused with my bi-monthly cry-fest wrought on by hearing of any child anywhere suffering from a serious and life threatening illness):

--A basketball player helping his teammate up in the middle of a game (I have never watched a basketball game and saw this in passing)
--A YouTube rabbit hole that started with "baby singing"
--When Beyonce hit a high note on an album she (obviously) already recorded
--Also everything

I'm seventeen weeks into the growth of this new little one (that is almost halfway in layman's terms), still feeling pretty disconnected from him/her, despite the random little baby movements I feel and my quickly growing baby belly (I mean to say that my belly looks just like Finn's). I struggled with these same feelings last time as well and I can't help but think this comes from some sort of internal mechanism that steps in and tries to protect mamas, or at least this one, from what could be a loss. Either that or I'm so unimaginative that I can't picture life with two littles. It is probably a bit of both. New feelings are arising as well and they sound something like this: How could I possibly expel more love? How could there ever be another person in the world I like as much as Finn? Will Finn be my favorite forever? Am I terrible for already pinning my children against each other? And so on.

We aren't doing much by way of preparing FFC for the upheaval in his future, other than reading him books about being a big brother that he certainly doesn't follow quite yet. I rather enjoy this time, though, the few precious months that remain in which he is my one and only. I'm happy to keep him in the dark for a bit longer so we can go on enjoying life as is. At this point I can't help but only feel bad for what we are about to "do" to him since, as I've learned from his big brother books, it will be a really long time before he can reap the benefits of a sibling.

AND WE'RE BACK! // MONTH EIGHTEEN.

2014-02-18T22:31:00.001-05:00

My dear readers, I think I'm finally ready to touch this little corner of the internet again. I took a long, unscheduled break as our family trudged through the stress and busyness of last semester, and it carried on well past our holiday travels. Poor J has had so much on his plate: multiple GRE tests, PhD applications/writing samples/recommendations, the presentation of a paper of his at a conference in the Midwest, and, of course, the normal workload of the semester. I actually think we handed that season quite well, despite the mountain of challenges.

Now J has roughly ten weeks left of his time at Duke. PhD application results are rolling in, slow as molasses. The snow is melting and Spring is just around the corner. We're constantly reworking the math to figure out if we can afford to live on a meager stipend for the next five years. Oh, and I'm pregnant. (We are thrilled! More on this later.) We are on the cusp of so much change right now that I'm finding it impossible to live in the moment. I've never been known for my patience, and I'd rather start making all of these adjustments now. Nevertheless, here we are and I must wait.

Anyway, as usual I would like to take this time to rant and rave about the preciousness that is my firstborn. Finnegan is a whole year and a half now. His personality is huge, his sense of humor is remarkable, and his eagerness to experience and understand is simply inspiring. He has finally decided to pick up a couple of words: dough-jee (doggie), kiggy (kitty), nine-o (dino), mum (more), hun-gee (hungry), and so on. These words are peppered throughout his usual strangely commanding baby talk, which probably gets him the most attention by strangers, only second to his red hair. His answer to nearly every question is "no," with exception to one (this is possibly the most tear-inspiring -- for me -- development I could share: if I ask Finnegan if I love him, he gives me lots of huge, enthusiastic nods of his head. Tears... forever. He also always, always, always offers a kiss to Mama. He has a whole mouthful of teeth, really; he got eight all at once over Christmas and I think we're just waiting on those last molars now. He has grown into a lanky little guy, with skinny arms and legs and an impressive belly. He developed a fear of the dark and likes to sleep with his door open now. He loves other kids and is so wildly tough in his spunky play that it is almost concerning. "You really let him fend for himself, don't you?" a mom said to me the other day at the playground. "...Yeah, he doesn't really need my help." Its true.

Finnegan's current hobbies include: walking backwards, dancing to any/all music, singing the Handy Manny song, exploring the outdoors, playing with cars and trucks, touching (destroying) all phones and laptops, eating blueberries, doing somersaults, making phone calls, talking about doggies, wearing my shoes, knocking on doors, and waving to bu-dee (birdies).

MUST SEE PT. V.

2013-12-03T11:03:00.002-05:00

2013-11-10 20.10.26 from Megan Coyle on Vimeo.

PLAY Space Team. Ok, this is pretty embarrassing but... has this ever happened to you? This video is from when my SIL/BIL + friend Joel came to visit a few weeks back. We got completely obsessed with this game that made me equally frantic/angry and totally embarrassed. The game requires you to yell out in a very serious tone these completely insane demands that make me break down laugh-crying. As you can see, we had to pull out phone chargers in order to keep the game going because yes, we played for that long.

PREPARE I made this simple recipe twice in a week. This hardly even counts as cooking and it is super healthy. Harissa Roasted Vegetable Bowl via A House In The Hills.

READ Do you read Rookie? It is an online mag founded by Tavi (whom I adore for reasons that I may fangirl about later) that is geared towards teen girls that is incredible. I mean truly life-changing-for-this-25-y.o. incredible. I wish so desperately that I had this community available to me as a teen. Anyway, this article, for example, on family dynamics was so so helpful.

FOREVER MY LOVE.

2013-11-20T23:42:00.001-05:00

My beautiful, magical little boy,

Many days I feel a horrible ache in my chest as I realize how many more things I could be doing to help you grow into your best you. I get pissed off, realizing that you won't have the Montessori nursery that other kids enjoy; I become annoyed when I roll over to sleep at night and the realization flies through my mind that yet another day has passed and I didn't pick up my parenting book; I get angry when I think about all the time that you've missed with your extended family; I fall into a deep, painful sadness when my inadequacies as a person seem so clear -- my inability to pull things together, for you and for myself. Today I was sad as I walked through Whole Foods, carefully comparing the prices of all of the different cheeses, weighing my options based on what I think you'd like and what we can afford. I want so much to give your perfect little body nothing but the best. But today I walked away empty-handed. I fought back tears as I made my way to my car through the parking lot.

I drove home. The house was quiet as both you and Papa were napping. As I walked down the hall, you woke up. I went to your room, scooped you into my arms, and held you for a few minutes, enjoying those groggy moments between sleep and awake when you want nothing more than to be with me, held tight. After that, you and Papa picked up where you left off playing. You were wild with laughter and it was infectious. We three spent the rest of the night together cooking dinner, playing in the dryer, tinkering with different kitchen tools. You were ecstatic.

Tonight, as I watched on, I could see how much you love your life. It was an incredible moment; humbling in a way unlike any I'd experienced. It was the reminder that I needed that it is my job to teach you to be grateful for what you have and to think of those who go without. It was a reminder that above all, you flourish most when you are loved. Sweet boy, I can promise you that I'll make a lot of mistakes and I will never be able to give you as much as I'd hoped, but I can also promise you that you have my deepest and most desperate love forever and ever.

Finnegan, thank you for who you are. Mama loves you.

Photography by Pressed + Brewed Photography.

THE COYLES + ELLIOTTS COME A'CALLIN'.

2013-11-20T22:54:00.000-05:00

And thus ends our glorious stream of Californian visitors. It's a good thing that we're headed that way in just over a month because otherwise I don't think I could stand it. You know how when people visit, it works against you and makes you miss them more? It is absolutely terrible. I'll quickly tell anyone that I got extraordinarily lucky about the family that I married into. There is something about these people that inspires me to do all the things that I'm ordinarily just too tired to do: stay up late talking, go see Justin Timberlake, taking Finnegan out all day long without worrying about throwing off naps (typing that out solidified for me how pathetic I am). . . I am also apparently way too busy to pull out my camera and take pictures of all the incredible things together which I actually don't hate. Anyway, these people are so supportive and wonderful. I love my family.

PAPA LOVE.

2013-11-20T22:15:00.002-05:00

FINNEGAN + FIRE. from Megan Coyle on Vimeo.

Finnegan loves to laugh. And J loves to make him laugh. Lots of nights I'm saying, "C'mon Finny, time for bed!" and J is begging for five more minutes of time for tickling, chasing, twirling, and singing. Of course I say yes! Sitting back and watching the bond of these two deepen is one of the most beautiful and touching things I've ever experienced. There is something indescribable about watching the one you love learn to love so much.

FAMILY OF THREE.

2013-11-07T19:13:00.002-05:00

Things are going alright for this family of three these days. We're between visits from some very loved people right now. Justin spends most of his time working in the library. Finnegan is doing this awesome thing where he'll play in his crib until he's tired and then lie down for a nap (also lots of dancing). I'm watching Mad Men and reading Flannery O'Connor, going on lots of walks, and catching up on an incredible amount of bookkeeping work that was lost in a tragic Dropbox disaster. As J is approaching the final semester of his graduate program our heads are filled with worries and ideas about our next step in life. Being closer to family sounds really nice. Taking a step back and just living like a "normal" family sounds like such a relief sometimes. Getting into a PhD program would be an absolute dream, but could we withstand the incredible stress of long hours, late nights, horrible and demanding expectations? It is a lot to mull over.

I love this picture when contrasted with the one that was taken when we were engaged. One thousand tears.

All photography by Kate at Pressed + Brewed except for the engagement photo, taken by Jered at Several Guys.

FALL IN THE CAROLINAS.

2013-11-02T13:19:00.003-04:00

I happened upon these pictures in my Flickr photostream and realized I never shared them because my hard drive crashed (twice!) since they were taken. Better late than never, I suppose. There is no way I would miss a chance to share pictures in which Finn and I are actually featured together !!!! as well as the beautiful shining faces of JN+CN. We had a great day at the pumpkin patch a few weeks back with only a little bit of sprinkling and a lot of smelly goats. There is something extra special about experiencing the month of October in a place that actually experiences a shift in seasons! (San Diego still holds my heart though.)

A LUMBERJACK HALLOWEEN.

2013-11-02T12:25:00.000-04:00

Happy Halloween, happy All Saints Day, happy November (my favorite month, tied with February). We had a great couple of days, partying with other babies at my work's little party and later welcoming my in-laws to town with arms wide open. It is so great to have them around: and for an entire week! This year, Finnegan was Paul Bunyan, complete with his sidekick Babe the Blue Ox, although he couldn't be bothered to even hold the cute little plushie I made him. (And without his props he kind of looked like a skinhead. Oops.) I keep piling all of these little things I make for him in his bed, hoping that some day he will show interest in them. Only time will tell. But that is beside the point... he looked pretty handsome if you ask me.

Woah, Finnegan has grown a whole lot since last Halloween.

IT GETS BETTER.

2013-10-12T07:00:00.000-04:00

The last time I took a blogging hiatus, it was because I was slowly being tested, tortured even. I was being bossed around by a fifteen pound sack of screaming potatoes. I basically walked around with my eyelids glued open and a sickening, brain-melty acid drip flowing from my ears for a good couple of months. Any time I heard a sudden, loud noise, I assumed it was my infant starting to cry and a wave of dull panic would wash over me. I was jumpy and sleep deprived. Good times. Except not at all.

If I had more foresight, I would have kept a log of all the completely insane things that people said to me during pregnancy and following Finnegan's birth. I eventually got to a place where I would agree with every other grocery store patron about whether or not I was having a boy or a girl, regardless of their correctness. I resorted to telling people that we were going to let our son become a feral child, raised by wolves, because it was the quickest way to shut down the endless and judge-y comments about very personal parenting decisions. One of the most common things I was told was something along the lines of, "these are the best days of your life; enjoy them!" What? If this is as good as it gets, then I wanted to quit this job before I got fired.

Those first months... no, no -- the first year, it is so hard. Which brings me to this for future reference:

Dear Mama Of A Less Than One Year Old,

Congratulations on incubating a little life and delivering him/her into this world. You are the baddest ass. Your body deserves one thousand highfives and an A+ in Awesomeness and it is absolutely remarkable that you find the strength to get up 23 times per night to nurse your little love, your baby bird, this precious gift. I know that if I was to describe your current state as "tired" I would be met with an hour long eyeroll. I know that you don't even remember when the last time was that you saw your toothbrush. I know that you have only eaten handfuls of sweet potato flavored puffs every few hours for the past three days. I know that you are mad at, well, everyone, and if someone goes so far as to look at you wrong, you might actually punch them square in the mouth. I know all of these things. It has been months since you have looked in the mirror and felt like yourself.

But do not be fooled, just because you feel like this now does not mean it will be this way forever. Things will get much harder in ways, but in other ways it will be so much better. For me, things really turned up at about one year. You will sleep. Your child will feed him/herself. Eventually they will need their diapers changed less and less often. Poop will not always be slop. Having a baby will be actual fun, not the "I guess this is fun but mostly, secretly, I think this really sucks" kind of fun. You will have hours upon hours of time to yourself in the evenings, when you can watch movies, bake 17-step cakes, read books, and cultivate new hobbies. Leaving the house will not always take 25 minutes. Your child will supply you with glimmers of positive reinforcement that you will take you a long, long way. Someday, your little baby will walk up to you, reach up, and hold your hand. You won't move a muscle so as not to distract from that sweet, special moment. You won't believe how far the two of you have come. Some day your child will run into your arms when you come home from work or the store or, I don't know, maybe the movies, with a huge, silly grin on his face. You can do it. You can do it. You can do it. And if you can't, that's okay -- there are plenty of people that would love to help, just ask. Please please please ask.

I respect you and you make me proud.

MMC

HI GRANDMA + GRANDPA!

2013-10-11T07:00:00.000-04:00

Like I said before, we've had lots of visitors lately; two of which were Justin's grandparents! We had a great couple of days with them being spoiled with meals, at restaurants!!! (this is a huge deal for us) as well as a fridge full of groceries. It was absolutely wonderful to see them and so exciting to see Finnegan get to spend a few days with his far away family. Thanks for the visit, Grandma and Grandpa!

VISITS WITH FRIENDS.

2013-10-10T09:00:00.000-04:00

The past few weeks have been a flurry of comings and goings. We have had more visitors than in our entire time in Durham, and things aren't letting up any time soon! We have two more rounds of visitors before the year's end.

First we had CDA, a dear, dear friend of mine from college. He taught me things then that I still can't shake. He's teaching me things now that keep me awake at night. His few days here can't be described as anything less than absolutely joyful. We also had a quick visit from GMS + his friend Erika (if you're into old-timey busking types, check out their music here and here!!). Greg is someone I respect, love, adore. When I hear word that he's catching the next train headed our way, I start keeping the front door unlocked, hoping that the next time I come home I will find him sitting on our couch. Lastly, we had a quick visit from CBK, a beautiful, old friend of mine from high school. There is something so right about reconnecting for a weekend, watching movies that 99% of the population will hate, eating 100+ grams of sugar per day, and reminiscing about how weird it is to be sixteen that is just so right. Plus we made flower crowns. I am so honored to know and be loved by such incredible people that want to share life with me. OK I'm going to stop tearing up now.

FOURTEEN MONTHS.

2013-10-08T23:47:00.000-04:00

Past the one year mark, I felt a little silly writing a monthly update on Finnegan. That would reach a level of personal self-indulgence that should never be permanently documented via the internet. Instead, I think I'll check in every once in a while and let you know what he is up to.

At fourteen months, I think I may have a little boy. Everyday I look for little glimpses of babyhood, but now these moments are few and far between. In ways, I miss those times (and in lots of other ways, I don't), but right now is just so fun. I love to lay on the floor of Finnegan's room and watch him putt around, from one activity to the next. Studying textures, pairing up shapes, experimenting with the sound two toys make when smashed together. Watching this little person reason and make decisions. I am not being overly dramatic when I say that it is an absolute privilege. It is a little silly to say, but I am just so happy that he wants to spend time with me. Me. I feel so lucky. I can't help but smile and feel the deepest gratitude.

We spend a lot of time pretending that absolutely everything is a phone, be it a piece of food, a washcloth, any/all toys. He is so fiercely independent--when we got on walks (wait, he walks, did you miss that??), he will not hold my hand unless it is to help him with a step up or down. He wants to explore at his own pace and I'm mostly happy to let him do that. We've taken to an evening walk around the block that may be my favorite time of day. Other fun little bits and pieces are how Finn always tries to squeeze my keys through the crack in the front door, and how he won't kiss anyone but his BFF baby friend MMM. I mean, he is obsessed with kissing her. He has also taken to wrapping his arms around my leg and sticking close when he's getting more attention from a stranger than he is used to. In these moments, I am beaming.

CULT LEADERS: LEAH JAMES WRIGHT.

2013-09-20T00:13:00.000-04:00

This is part of a series in which I celebrate the diversity of insight and experience expressed by the women that I have the pleasure of knowing and admiring, women from which we have lots to learn. These are my friend crushes; my inspirations; my teachers; these are CULT LEADERS.

The first time I ever met Leah, I was sitting around a table with people I had never met but had already agreed to live with in a Real World-inspired scenario the following summer. I would be auditing summer courses in sociology and theology while my husband took them for credit, all while living in this strange housing arrangement. I was quickly--instantly--drawn to Leah (like every other person that has come across her). She is uniquely warm; endlessly positive; unequivocally uplifting. She is honest; she is smart; she is never, ever too serious--and she can party. She has a way of sensing the strengths of those around her and praises the hell out of others in a way that is completely genuine. Mash all of these qualities together, and you get an A+ social worker and A+++ friend. I am completely convinced that the world would be rid of violence if everyone had the pleasure of calling Leah a friend.

MEGAN: Introduce yourself. Who are you, and how'd you get here?

LEAH JAMES WRIGHT: Hi, I'm Leah Ellen James Wright! I work as a Case Manager for 28 individuals seeking income and housing in downtown San Diego. It's amazing. And pays juuuust enough to eat and pay rent, but I'm planning to work my way up to earning 6 figs. I have the most amazing group of friends and a new hott husband. I was born and raised in Chino Hills, CA. I studied at Point Loma Nazarene University and San Diego State University. I worship at Church of the Nazarene in Mid-City. Hobbies are a new concept to me now that I don't have homework, so far the only one I've mastered is watching TV.

What is important to you?

It is important to me to celebrate being made in God's image and recognizing God's image in others. It is important to me to participate in relationships that recognize my worth and value while also graciously reminding me to live simply and expand my capacity to generatively love, be patient, be creative, and forgive. It is important to me to be a hard-worker and be a successful Social Worker, and have a healthy work and relaxation balance. It is important to me to be open-minded and empathetic. It is important to me to know people who have similar and different past and present experiences than myself. It is important to me that I hold and squeeze babies. It is important to me to incorporate cheese into every meal.

Tell me about the best decision you ever made.

The best decision I ever made was prioritizing and working towards a profession that I love. Spending 40+ hours a week doing something you enjoy, are successful at, and will get paid for is really satisfying. God is allowing me to use my spiritual gifts and provide shelter and food (lots o' cheese) for my family! When you're working hard, challenging yourself, and celebrating your gifts, you're attractive to others and can lock them down in marriage and friendships - those relationships are some of my best decisions too!

Who is your favorite fictional heroine, and who are your heroines in real life?*

One of my favorite fictional heroines is Scout Finch; I remember reading To Kill a Mockingbird my freshman year of high school and feeling inspired. She's a smart, assertive, honest, and empathetic, young girl who questions racial prejudice and violence. Another, more light-hearted, fictional heroine I love is Liz Lemon from 30 Rock. Liz is based on Tina Fey and is an intelligent, hard-working, unapologetic feminist who laughs at her imperfections. Woo! One of my real life heroines is Dr. Maya Angelou. Dr. Angelou is a resilient trailblazer who is constantly mastering a new subject. Read I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings and just soak. it. up. And of course my mom is my ultimate real life heroine! Marilyn James is intelligent and beautiful and she birthed me!

What advice do you have for women?

My advice for women is that we celebrate each other constantly and thank God for blessing the world with us. I've had the divine pleasure of working in a transitional housing facility with dozens of women who have extremely diverse backgrounds, but all of whom display overwhelming intelligence, strength, creativity, and generosity. My sisters outside of work amaze me too by participating in marketing management, pastoring, financial accounting, raising children, teaching, writing, making art.... We are unique; we are similar; we are sisters; we give life. It is crucial for us to advocate for the safety and rights of women locally and globally, and the rights of other marginalized groups.

*A super grateful nod to Feministing for the creation of this wonderful question.

FIERCE & FREE.

2013-09-18T07:00:00.000-04:00

“Because children have abounding vitality, because they are in spirit fierce and free, therefore they want things repeated and unchanged. They always say, "Do it again"; and the grown-up person does it again until he is nearly dead. For grown-up people are not strong enough to exult in monotony. But perhaps God is strong enough to exult in monotony. It is possible that God says every morning, "Do it again" to the sun; and every evening, "Do it again" to the moon. It may not be automatic necessity that makes all daisies alike; it may be that God makes every daisy separately, but has never got tired of making them. It may be that He has the eternal appetite of infancy; for we have sinned and grown old, and our Father is younger than we.”

― G.K. Chesterton, Orthodoxy

GROWING LIKE A WEED.

2013-09-16T10:00:00.000-04:00

A few months before Finnegan was born, I was introduced to an incredible app: Everyday. The concept is simple; the app alerts you a time or two a day (if you so choose) to remind you to take a picture. It is typically used for self portraits, but I decided to use it for pictures of Finnegan. Although I wasn't nearly as consistent as I could have been (infant baby to care for, c'mon!), I have a really quick, super fun video that documents my sweet little newborn baby growing up (sad!) and losing the majority of his enormous cheeks (tears!). I will cherish this short little video forever. I could watch it a million times over (and have). Check out the video behind the cut:

CULT LEADERS: FERN LOUISE.

2013-09-09T07:00:00.000-04:00

// This is part one in a series I have planned entitled CULT LEADERS, in which I will feature women who inspire me. I look forward to sharing with you women from which we have lots to learn. Keep your eyes peeled. I am ecstatic to show off some really incredible people! //

Fern Louise, what a beauty.

I am fortunate to have some really wonderful women in my life. One that especially stands out is my grandmother Fern. When we are together, I try desperately to soak up as much of her as I can, so as to hopefully become like her in as many ways as possible. At every turn, she is inspiring.

My grandmother is a beautiful mixture of completely silly, incredibly practical, and unbelievably wise. She is always a listening ear when I need one. She carefully chooses her words and scatters my name throughout our conversation, making me feel as though she hasn't a care in the world but me in that moment. She grabs my hand at just the right time. She knows the questions to ask and the questions that will be hard for me to answer. She is kind and full of sweetness, and yet has this way about her that allows her to be completely honest and charitable all at once. She has always made me feel respected. She handles life with a powerful blend of determination, bravery, and meekness. It is really something to behold. She has lived a life that I never tire of hearing stories about.

While talking this summer she gave me some incredible advice (like usual). It is a phrase that I can't get out of my head. How she knew that it was exactly what I needed to hear, I will never know. "Find yourself in hard times, don't lose yourself." This past year I have been, well, honestly, an absolute brat about where I'm at in life. It has been emotionally and physically draining for me to look around and find so much displeasure and it has been hard on my husband, who is pouring himself into an incredibly challenging graduate program. I can't imagine what it has done to Finnegan, but I'm sure that we can easily draw that out when he ends up in therapy later... ha.

Anyway, Grandma, you are a remarkable woman. Your determination is beautiful, your prayers are oh so coveted, and you are an example to all. Thank you for being an absolute joy to go through life with.

ICH VERMISSE EINE FREUNDIN VON MIR SO SEHR.

2013-09-08T07:00:00.000-04:00

I'm guessing that all of us dream of living abroad, and yet few of us will muster up the courage to actually do it. Add two curious and determined little boys to the mix and this little dream has probably drifted away.

Enter the Strecker family.

My dear, dear friend Mary along with her husband and two boys just took the courageous leap and moved to Germany for the next year. Cody is in graduate school and Mary + boys are in German life and culture school. I couldn't be more excited or more proud of these precious four. It was such a wonderful experience to see them dream up this idea, try to wrestle with their fears and hesitations, and ultimately decide to just go for it. That is the kind of adventurous spirit that I am so envious of.

Anyway, if you, like me, want nothing more than to watch a beautiful and creative mama figure out life for the next year abroad, feel free to take a look.

AND MARY

instagram

IDAHO PT. V: FAMILY.

2013-09-06T07:00:00.000-04:00

“Going to the woods is going home.”
― John Muir

IDAHO PT. IV: ADVENTURE.

2013-09-04T22:55:00.002-04:00

“Let children walk with Nature, let them see the beautiful blendings and communions of death and life, their joyous inseparable unity, as taught in woods and meadows, plains and mountains and streams of our blessed star, and they will learn that death is stingless indeed, and as beautiful as life.”
― John Muir

See the rest of the series here: pt. i / pt. ii / pt. iii / pt. iv / pt. v

IDAHO PT. III: WARREN.

2013-09-04T22:19:00.000-04:00

“One touch of nature makes the whole world kin.”

― John Muir

Little ol' Warren, Idaho. Now that place is a sight for sore eyes. Warren is a little... well, town isn't the right word. It is a collection of abodes several miles down the road from my grandparents' place. To just give you a little taste: there is a very questionable school building with a backwards "N", a tiny, bathroom-sized post office, a closed down restaurant, and a bed and breakfast that has been for sale for about fifteen years. This place is the perfect setting for a horror movie. In all of the trips I've made out there, I think I've only ever seen actual people there three times. And yet, there are people that live there year round. That takes a very special kind of person. I snapped lots of photos of the various buildings around Warren and thought they made a wonderful little photo series. I've decided to share with you my favorites.

IDAHO PT. II: FINNEGAN'S BIRTHDAY.

2013-08-30T09:00:00.000-04:00