A rolling stone gathers no moss…

A rolling stone gathers no moss…

… So thank goodness I do a lot of sitting these days. Been thinking a lot about moss lately. I have visions of tiny embroidered pieces, with layers of paper and string and probably some beautiful, shiny bits of trash. Currently in a season of living life one handed, though (hello fourth trimester, hello clusterfeeding) so for now I’m just on the lookout for the real thing.

Some Reminders

My body has done/is doing remarkable things. It housed and birthed two babies, then on a dime turned around and made food for those babies. Beyond the things it can do, however, there is the fact that it IS- all bodies are beautiful, impossible lumps of star stuff, deserving of respect and reverence. This is what my head believes, what I want my kids to believe and what I whisper to my heart when it find itself comparing, judging or otherwise cutting myself down.

To myself And my fellow humans living in post-partum bodies (or post-surgery, post injury, general aging etc etc) a few gentle reminders:

You do not need to worry about when youll “get your body back”. Your body never left you.

Likewise “getting back to normal.” Change is the only constant and garuntee.

Change is also frequently uncomfortable and hard. It’s okay to not feel okay with the changes in your body. The beautiful thing about bodies is that they are wise and often you do not need to understand or be 100% onboard with what they’re doing for them to function.

As a living creature you are worthy of dignity, respect and love. Anyone trying to say otherwise is likely trying to sell you something and you should be suspicious of what.

A re(-re-re) introduction of sorts…

I resisted the idea of returning to blogging initiall. It felt (/feels) presumptuous to write about parenting, as if I’m trying to claim some sort of authority that I don’t have. Let’s be clear,- I have no clue what the hell I’m doing. But if this is true for me, three years into parenting, 10+ years of experience working with young children professionally, a nearly finished associates degree in early childhood development and education, then I have to assume everyone is muddling through. Over the last year, I’ve found myself combing teaching/parenting blogs, looking for ideas, but also for solidarity. Among the staggering losses of 2020, one which I continue to mourn is the loss of parent community. I find myself doing things that would’ve been unthinkable for me last year- making intentional, shouted small talk across the parking lot at school drop off, introducing myself via Christmas card to neighbors who I spy with a similar newborn-sized bundle, reinstalling instagram. Starting a blog. Or rather, re-starting. I toyed with the idea of starting fresh and anonymous and it definitely still has it’s appeal, but then gate intervened. Well, fate and spam. This morning I received one of those “approve this comment” wordpress emails. It’d been so long since I had even thought about this site that out of curiosity (and the desperation that comes from being trapped while nursing and in between books) I decided to follow the link and check it out. What I found was a time capsule- a me from 5, 10 years ago. In some ways, I’m a totally different person. In some ways I’m totally the same. There are stories/memories and writing here that I don’t want to lose.

So I’m starting here, again.*

My goals are pretty humble; Use this space to process and ponder. Practice organizing my thoughts into words, and try to capture the strange combination of beauty, mess, joy, rage, chaos and wonder that is living with and learning from new humans. Figure out what “creative practice” sounds and looks like in this season. Most importantly- (she said during bedtime, writing with one hand, holding a nursing months-old Noodle baby with the other and with using all her willpower not to yell at the three year old Bean, who was currently trying to argue about the nature of time and fitfully reenacting the Winnie the pooh movie she watched for the 40th time today)- most importantly I want to try and create a space for reflective solitude and supportive community that I (and maybe you?) need.It’s either this or seriously consider selling my kids in Etsy.

*I tried the tumblr thing but found it overall not for me- too many newfangled buttons and shares and reblogs, too much emphasis on images. Give me long-form, vanilla blogging any day.

Hello.

 Hello .

Hello 2020. 

Hello global pandemic, hello racial injustice and reckoning, hello distance and isolation. Hello at home with 3 yr old. Hello pregnancy, hello birth, hello baby.

(Hello again, coffee.)

Hello school-at-home, hello work at home. Hello museum at home, zoo at home, nature center at home, everything at home. 

Hello late night feeding. Hello endless Googling. Hello craving community. Hello blog 

Hello you.