Thursday, July 26, 2018

present over perfect

(Started writing this back in Feb, added final touches in is crazy)

Belle is asleep. Rae and Johnny are cuddled together playing ABC mouse in my bed. And Garrett is on a guy's trip to Vail with some buddies. I've found myself cuddled up in 'the nest' of our ginormous sectional (the nest refers to the meeting point between both angles of the couch, which is always crowded with pillows and blankets, and easily the coziest spot in the house), and I wanted to write. I don't know why. Well, it probably has a lot to do with the weather.
The weather has been moody in AZ this week...something I didn't realize I missed so much. I can't remember the last time it was cloudy and dim outside. Or the last time we walked out to wet cement and humid air and that fresh rainy smell. I like living in Arizona, but every time I get a glimpse of this kind of weather, my soul takes a deep breathy heart swells and I wonder why I don't live in Seattle year round. Something in me aches for rain and cloud-covered skies, at least on a semi-regular basis. Maybe it's the softness of the air...a contrast to the glaring sun always blinding us through our windows. Maybe it's the forced "slow down," as we find ourselves drinking hot chocolate and cuddled up inside. Maybe it's the clothes...I've always preferred sweaters and long pants to shorts and t-shirts. Either way, this moody weather is making me moody. But in a good, happy, thoughtful way, I think.

I've spent a considerable amount of time lately analyzing my life. What do I do each day, and why do I do it? And furthermore, how do I do it? Am I happy, forced, labored, begrudged, willing? What are the things that bring me joy? And what are the things that don't? Am I picking the right things to give my time and attention to? Am I fulfilling the purpose of each individual day? Am I missing out on my life? Am I writing the narrative for any future regrets? 

I am fully aware that we just get one life. I can never redo this day. And there are an unknown number of tomorrows. 

And then I fall deeper into the hole.

Wednesday, July 25, 2018

words for my babies

In my 1000th attempt to continue documenting life in detail, I decided to switch things up a little bit here. I keep wanting to blog, but it just doesn't happen. The motivation just isn't strong enough. 

Alongside that thought is the fact that I've been majorly cutting social media out of my life, and I'm sticking with it. But, my concern is that I'm missing out on these little reminders of all the crazy and beautiful things that I want to remember about this hectic time of life. 

So. I'm going to try to document those things here instead of instagram. I've always found blogs to be a little more authentic and a lot more detailed, at least for me personally. And, I find writing very fulfilling. 

So, we'll see.

Wednesday, December 13, 2017

Sunday Gratitude no.8


1. Our current little home that we love and adore. It has been so so so so good to us, and it's walls are full of so much love and so many memories. When we bought this home, we imagined living here for 5-7 years. We just hit the 4 year mark, and we expected to be here for at least 2 more years before moving on. But then, without even realizing it, we stumbled upon the the most perfect little house, on the most perfect little lot, next to the most perfect little park...and somehow, we put our name on it and it is ours. Well...almost ours. Which brings me to:

Wednesday, November 01, 2017

on my heart

I don't know what I'm about to say right now. I just found myself here, and my heart feels all kinds of swirly with feelings and convictions and hope and determination.

The last 2 years have been like, majorly transformative for me. Which isn't to say they were hard, necessarily...although at times, definitely. Just very transformitive. Which, I feel the need to add: it didn't just happen. I definitely initiated that transformation, albeit a bit ignorant of the can of worms I was opening. Phew man, it's been two years of stretching and growing and deep breaths and confusion and trial-and-error and so much determination. And also, so so much pride and love for myself.

The questions: Who the hell am I? and Who the hell do I want to be? pretty much sum it all up. For some reason, the hell is an important component in those questions, possibly because it emphasizes the desperation behind them. Like, I've got to figure this out. Which is not to say that I haven't answered those questions multiple times in the past, but as an ever evolving human (and wife and mother and friend and spirit), I'm of the upmost certainty that these questions will reappear periodically forever and ever.
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