I was going to share my chore charts (come back next week, and I will). I could share about failing and flailing as a mother and mothering on. I could write about bathrooms or bedrooms. Designing your home. Designing your life. I could work out my words in my journal. Write. Wonder. Rant. Repent. Record. But, instead my fingers feel like pecking at punchy keys. Click click. My thoughts shared, splattered on a glowing screen instead of tucked away in the turn of a page. And, as I click, click, peck, punch, I’m really not sure what it is I have to say. Click, click. But, what I’m stewing on, what’s simmering away somewhere deep in the pot is something a friend said to me this week.
everything about this moody bedroom and cool animated photo by Anders Bergstedt for Entrance (most gorgeous site for selling homes in Sweden). Looks like I’m still swooning for floral wallpaper.
tiny floating house down the River Thames.
This tiny house floating down the River Thames. Yes, like for real. It’s for airbnb, which I still have yet to try and really want to soon. Where to go?
these words (and, this insta account). Live inside and under hope. Under the hope’s roof.
pretty ponytails. I loved this looped one (how to here).
chia pudding. I had the best chia pudding here and have been trying to replicate, ever since. I think this version from the Minimalist Baker looks like a fun one to try, too. Have you tried chia seed pudding?
Also, majorly loving this post, Life Advice for My Daughters.
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what are you loving this week?
I’m back patio planning.
It never starts in the snow. Not even during spring rain. But, when the grass starts growing, emerald city, green, and the tall trees begin to rustle and wave, and the new leaves work out their whispy whispers, then I feel I can’t keep in the cocoon any longer.
I have to be out their in it. In the wind, warmed by the sun and welcomed by the bird’s songs. I don’t just want to go out, I want to live out, as much as I possibly can. Play out. Eat out. Read out. Relax out. Be out.
The summer months are short, here, and so we have to make the days long. We lengthen them by lingering, lounging and letting go of whats calling us back in.
It’s Monday and my mind should be on laundry and long lists of to-do’s. But today, my one thing thats trumping everything is cleaning up my back patio.
Every-thing fills my mind.
And, my to-do list. The mental one (on repeat) and the one that actually makes it pen to paper. Clean out kid’s closets. Pay bills. Write a blog post. Respond to e-mail. Exercise (because, if I don’t list it, I might not live it). Make doctors appointments. Make Bed. Make lunch. Make a grocery list. Making lists makes my lists.
Do you know this every-thing?
The funny thing is . . .
As much as every-thing swirls and I try to secure the suckers swarming my brain, straining to squeeze them from a “to” to a “do”, I must admit . . .
I am a one thing. Read More
You are four. I don’t have any pretty words or ways to say this except that I’m not OK with this. I like that you can use the potty and climb in the car, but if those chubby cheeks of yours start thinning out, then I might have meltdown right along with you. Your button nose sits just so between your two cloud like cheeks. At this moment in time, you are my last little squidgy and I’m not sure what to make of that.
I’m praying your expressiveness never goes away. That way you turn both eyes up to one side and raise those eyebrows of yours, with eyes closed, as you are trying to make a point. Your face so expressive. Don’t loose that as you leap from 4 to 5 and 5 to 6 and 6 to 20.
+ Your pronouns are still perfectly placed as far as I’m concerned. “No my don’t!” Yes, my are!” “Her like that. Him really do.”
+ Your favorite bedtime song is the animal song. Which is made up and goes like this…”On the first day the Lord made the ______. ” We choose the animal and you make the noise. For some reason we go to 10 days. You say we can only do animals that live in the rainforest. Best of all, there is an animal, according to you, called a “college.”
+ Only cereal for breakfast or a frozen (literally) waffle you can walk around with
+ Netflix on the iPad is your favorite or Peppa Pig on the computer
+ “What is your middle name?” “Rocco Taco McMeemy”
+ Miam is your best friend
+ You love to dress up in costumes and Dark Vader is your favorite.
+ “Tonight we have squash?” You ask every night. “No.” “Yay!”
+ You always want “zert” after dinner
+ You love to eat at Chick-a-Lay
+ Cars are a favorite toy
+ You have lots of friends
+ Every night at dinner you like to start, “best part, worst”
+ You still stick your tongue out like a puppy dog when you are shy, embarrassed or happy
+ You are just so silly
Most days I can’t take my eyes off you. Yes, because you might run into the street. Also, because you say the funniest things that catch my attention, even from the other side of the house. Because you squeeze me tighter than anyone ever has. But, also because when I look at you, I see someone I used to know. A younger, care free, open hearted me. Sparkle in the eyes and a gallop in the step. I see you close those eyes and raise those eyebrows and I know, without needing photos to prove it, just how I used to look. I see you scrunch that button nose and those chubby cheeks puffing up and I can feel my cheeks being pinched, again. When I look at you each day I remember to be me. It’s your birthday and I get the gift. Everyday I get the gift of you. I love you, puppy.