seven quick(ish) takes: life lately

Ooooh, I've missed this space! But maybe I needed to miss it to feel energized about writing here again? Maybe? I don't know. Still lots of not knowing on my end. Some things may never change. Other things, however, continue to change way too fast, namely...

1. My boys! Two whole kiddos that I somehow have the great blessing of caring for each day. Toby will be one in November, and Caleb will be three. HOW DID THAT HAPPEN?!?

2. I started homeschooling Caleb a few weeks ago, if you can call it that. Basically, on Monday and Wednesday mornings we do projects and explore together while Toby naps, and on Fridays we have field trips. Tuesdays the boys go to a multi-age music class at Old Town (which they LOVE), and on Thursdays my dad watches them so that I can get some work done & have a break. So far it's a beautiful system. Just enough structure to keep things sane yet flexible.

3. Speaking of structure, Caleb has also started doing a few chores, and it feels like a glorious glimpse of what's to come. So far his main job is to feed the cats, which he can do completely independently. He also puts his dishes in the sink and wipes his spot at the table after meals, helps dust the furniture and baseboards, and waters the garden. All of which take a lot longer than if I were to do it myself, but hey, teach a man to fish and all that. I'm already waiting in joyful hope for the day he is able to do his own laundry.

{washing his own hands}

4. I started running again, and I'm in love. Last week my "long run" was four miles, which may not seem like much, but it's the farthest I've ever run in my life. Pretty dang proud of myself. On Sunday I'm upping it to five, and the following weekend I'll run my first 5K in two years!

{view from one of my runs earlier this summer}

 {on a hike, not a run, but uh... it's still active?}

5. I'm also getting into modern cross-stitch. Who knew? I love that it's simple and repetitive enough to keep my mind calm & my hands busy without requiring complete focus (meaning: I can listen to a podcast or marathon Gilmore Girls in the background without losing my concentration). My stitches ain't perfect, and that's OK. Perfect isn't the point.

6. A few weeks ago I realized that, in order to make all of the above possible, I really needed to get some quality sleep. I've decided this in the past, but it never stuck. Until! I kicked my phone out the bedroom and bought a simple alarm clock. All it does is tell time and sound an alarm. You flip it over to turn it on or off, and it's been a total game-changer. Now I switch my phone to airplane mode after we put the boys to sleep (around 8), unwind with a show/project/book, get myself ready for bed, and am out by 10 most nights. Makes the mornings (and morning runs) a LOT easier to handle!

7. And now for the final, totally random take: Three Fictional Characters to Describe Me. This "game" has been floating around Facebook, and I couldn't help myself. Except I chose four, because Matilda and Anne are tied ;)

{the top two: YES. the bottom two: kind-of-almost-depends-on-the-day}

Linking up over here, because why not? CHEERS to the weekend, and to getting back in the good ol' fashioned blogging swing of things.

apple picking

We spent Saturday afternoon at the orchard, enjoying the beautiful weather and picking a full peck of Gala apples. I was a little worried we'd have to get baking or give a bunch away, but Caleb has been chowing down on them like nobody's business. Although there is definitely still a warm apple crisp in our future, and I plan to grate a few into our oatmeal now that cool mornings have arrived. We went to the same place as last year--I guess that makes the family tradition official now? Crazy to look back and see what a difference a year makes! It was definitely nicer going early in the season this time around, and with a healthy, well-rested kid. Plus, he's just so much fun these days (I mean it! So far, the almost-twos? No so terrible :) ).

I'm having a little trouble sizing photos for the blog at the moment (all these fancy software updates on my new computer are throwing me!), so what you see above is it for now. Hopefully I'll get the kinks worked out soon and have a manageable system once again! I've been missing this space more than I realized.

stahhhhp already!

WE ARE OVER YOU, SNOW! ENOUGH IS ENOUGH!

Actually, Caleb pretty much loves it. He does not, however, appreciate being propped in snow banks by yours truly in order to take staged photos. I was attempting to replicate a similar pic from last year's snowpocalypse (third down here). Thankfully this winter at least took its time coming. And we've had some reasonable temps and blue skies in between all the snow, so there's that.

Still, I couldn't resist buying some tulips at the grocery store today, and it's entirely possible I've already purchased some new sandals and have been breaking them in around the house.... Sigh. So close, so far, oh well. Onward!

january bits + pieces

It's been sort of slow going around here. I feel like I have SO MUCH to write about, but I can't quite wrap my brain around all-the-everything yet. Eventually. 

In the meantime, a glimpse of the everyday this & that of our 2015 so far....

We rang in the new year in our PJs...

...while eating pizza. It was the best! Definitely the start of a new tradition.

Cabey learned to drive! ;) 

Cars are definitely high on his list of favorite things.

He also carts his "duggahs" (doggies) everywhere these days and loves to love on them.

Andy: "When does he start his boy band career?"

I celebrated the return of Downton Abbey with some bubbly (but haven't had a drink since--and I feel so much better! Not exactly super well-rested, mind, as I still have to work on getting to bed at a decent time. But better.).

 

Caleb is suddenly OBSESSED with cleaning supplies.

I think they even surpass his love of cars and dogs these days.

I mean, really.

But I guess he comes by it honestly :)

(I think I'm like one of those cool moms or something?!?!) (Or something.)

Ball pit heaven at the local community center.

Hot tea & a hot bath is good for the soul.

Guard cats.

Saying our bedtime prayers. Rosaries are delicious.

"You are covered in stars."

Late night meditation on Our Lady of Guadelupe, Patroness of the Unborn. 

Excited to begin a small group series for young moms on the Ten Virtues of Mary at a local parish, inspired in part by these gals.

So there you have it. I'm getting my balance back, and it is oh-so-good.

the big 2-9

In honor of my last year in my twenties, I took these awkward bathroom mirror selfies. And because my word of the year is courage, I'm actually sharing them.

I generally despise having my photo taken, and I only very rarely share pictures of myself here. But I guess today I'm saying: Why not?

So that's almost-29-year-old me up there. Hair and roots both longer than ever, no makeup, in my PJs.  (Although, I actually just had my first haircut since June. I broke down and sprung for highlights, too. Blonde may no longer be my natural color, but it's still my original color. I tried to grow it out, I really did. But I felt like the uncomfortable middle school version of myself -- that's about when my hair went dark -- and I HATED middle school. Even more than getting my picture taken, which is saying something. So, for now, highlights it is!)

In those pictures up there, though? I felt happy. Caleb was fast asleep, I'd just finished cleaning the kitchen, and I caught a glimpse of my curly hair and rosy cheeks in the mirror and thought: Hey, I like that person.

It was kind of a big deal.

The older I get, the more myself I feel. Today I'm taking myself out to wander, and tonight I'm going to dinner with my husband. I'm beyond excited for both. 

I love having a fresh start to a new year, two days in a row. 29, I think we're going to be good friends.

ordinary abundance

"There are two ways to get enough. One is to continue to accumulate more and more. The other is to desire less."

G.K. Chesterton

. . .

I've been sitting on a version of this post for almost a week now, waiting for the words to come more easily and eloquently. Maybe I'm still feeling the holiday fog, but I'm tired of waiting. This is so close to my heart right now, and I just need to get something down and out into the world, however imperfectly expressed.

. . .

I love Christmas. I really do. I used to take more joy in the preparation than the actual celebration, but slowing things down this year and honoring Advent as a time of reflection and simplicity helped make both more manageable and merry. Which isn't to say there isn't plenty of room for improvement, but we're taking it one year at a time.

All that said, I find myself so hungry for Ordinary Time. Maybe it's that I'm getting older, or perhaps it's just this season of life, but I long for routine, simplicity, and everyday grace. For the unexpected beauty of "normal," the bounty beneath the surface, just waiting to be noticed. In this way, Advent and Christmas mirror the cycle of our entire lives. 

Our tree was beautiful this year (it still is, actually, as we're keeping it up until Epiphany). We never got around to hanging more than a handful of ornaments, mostly those that belong to Caleb or have been gifts to Andy and me during our marriage. Still, I love having those little lights on in the evenings, and I love watching Caleb wave hello to the tree when he wakes up in the morning. It was wonderful to see gifts wrapped and ready piled underneath, too, tokens of love given and received. I generally enjoy buying presents. We don't go overboard, but we do try to carefully consider each person on our list. I offer up prayers and goodwill as I wrap everything, hoping to somehow imbue the items with the spirit of care in which they were chosen.

But -- in the midst of wrapping gifts and baking counters full of cookies (I managed four kinds this year, phew!), the thing that really grabbed me was the fruit basket sitting on our counter, in the same spot it lives most days. Suddenly it was so inexplicably beautiful.

Call it satori, call it the "wow" prayer, but whatever name you give the moment, it was as though someone pressed the pause button on the world for a second. 

Recently I started watching the BBC drama Cranford (I promise this is connected), and in the second episode there's a scene where the main characters are given oranges to enjoy. For reasons of dignity and decorum, they go to their bedrooms to eat their fruit alone. The idea that oranges could be such a treat, so exotic, and pleasurable to the point of inappropriateness really stuck with me. And I think that's part of what got me when I saw our fruit basket, full of bananas and limes and clementines and even a pomegranate. The basket itself is something Andy and I brought back from Oman. What a miracle it would seem to the people of Cranford to see such treasures sitting in our kitchen! Yet we very nearly expect that we'll have access to these things at will. They blend into the background. But to really see them, even if briefly? Wow. 

The same thing happened last night when I caught a glimpse of my hands in a sink full of dishes, scrubbing the pans from dinner. And I saw them. The whimsy of the soap bubbles, the dim light just so, and two capable hands -- hands that help me care for a family. Wow. I felt my throat catch at the wonder of my regular life. I get to be a wife! I get to be a mom. It is so beautiful. I'm learning how to nourish my family both physically and spiritually, and while the journey has no endpoint, I can't believe how far I've come in the past year. In a way, I'm even more grateful that I was finally able to be present to this abundance, to recognize the profound blessing that is my ordinary life.

I've gotten pretty good at saying "HELP!" and "Thank you, thank you, thank you!" this past year. Or at least, I tend to call out those prayers often. But I've often stopped short of "Wow." So that's what I'm aiming for in 2015: Eyes to see the abundance that surrounds me, and a soul moved to tears by the wonder of it all. x

holiday recap 2014

A few small snippets of our Advent and Christmas. It was a beautiful season, and I only had one stress-induced breakdown ;) In all seriousness, though, by Thursday night I was completely drained, just bone-tired -- but my heart was bursting at the seams. If you're talking love & joy, Christmas with a little one is where it's at.

From top to bottom: Advent in-progress | St. Nick was here! | Lots of simple meals, including this homemade bread | The only decorating I did, apart from our (ornament-less) Christmas tree | Neighborhood tree lighting | Peppermint-scented play dough | Two of the four kinds of cookies I made: Salted PB chocolate pretzel, and rolled butter cookie cutouts | Homemade marshmallows | Brown paper packages, tied up with string | Andy and I bought each other the same (AMAZING) candle | Baked eggnog French toast on Christmas morning | Merry and bright and full of light x

my heart is full

As we got in the car after buying a Christmas tree this morning, on our way to a train-themed diner for lunch, Andy sighed and said, "I love having a family."

Me too. So, so much.

first: advent

I have always, always loved Christmas... until last year. Last year was the first time I experienced Christmas as a mom (and a very new mom at that), and frankly? It just sucked. And not because our families weren't wonderful (they spoiled us, as usual) or there was some big loss to deal with (Lord knows we've had our fair share), but because of me and my own mental darkness. 

I was so stressed out. About EVERYTHING. 

I was amped up and adamant that we make the first Christmas with our son AMAZING and WONDERFUL and PERFECT and FULL OF TRADITIONS AND FAMILY FUN! All while still adjusting to life with a pretty tiny baby, in a very small apartment, during one of the coldest winters Chicago has ever seen.

I didn't even get our Christmas cards mailed out, which were also supposed to serve as Caleb's birth announcements, and I cried while wrapping gifts.

As you might imagine, I was determined to do it differently going forward (both Christmas and the whole "having a newborn" thing). This year we decided to really focus on observing Advent, and it is FANTASTIC. I only wish I'd understood the significance of this month of planning and preparation sooner. Catholic or not, it feels so good to stop the chaos in favor of time to reflect, breathe, and contemplate what will truly make our holiday merry and memorable. We've been "going dark" in the evenings in favor of candlelight, and while we plan to get our tree this weekend, it will remain undecorated until the week before Christmas. We're making room, both physically and spiritually, and my introverted soul is so grateful. 

I've been praying and thinking a lot about the next steps for my own life, something I shared a bit of here. In all my recent pondering, I keep getting one message over and over again: "You are in a season of discernment." A season of discernment--how lovely is that? What a relief to be able to view this chapter of my life as a time of hope, necessary for what's next, instead of one big ol' PAUSE on "real life." One day I may be called again to bold action, big ideas, and major change. But for now? The craziest, most important thing I can do is watch, listen, and wait... Kinda like what we're supposed to be doing during Advent. We wait in joyful hope for the celebration to end all celebrations.

So that's what I'm doing. Finding the joy, holding onto hope, even as I sometimes weep at the darkness. Somehow I've only just come to see that it isn't mine to shoulder alone. Talk about a revelation! You can let go of the heavy and welcome the light instead. Incredible. I think sometimes we need to set the heavy stuff down, but other times we simply share the load. Suddenly our individual portion doesn't seem quite so burdensome, and we understand we're part of a larger network of overcoming, and it's the sort of bring-you-to-tears miracle that makes your whole being radiate. It doesn't mean the hard parts or sadness disappear, but they lose some of their power: We belong to each other. Love wins.

Images via: 1 | 2 | 3

making room

I cleaned out my closet this week.

This may not sound earth-shattering. In many ways, it isn't. And yet...

It was the first time I've ever (ever) successfully cleaned out my closet. I didn't stop halfway through, defeated, or shove what I was too tired to hang back into a hamper in the corner of the room to deal with later.

It also felt a lot more like therapy than cleaning.

A couple weeks ago, I started reading The Life-Changing Magic of Tidying Up. The author, a Japanese organizational expert, is eccentric, unconventional, and exactly what I needed. Clearly, there is a reason she has a three-month wait list for her services. I'm so glad I gave her a chance! Here's how magic went down...

On Tuesday morning, while Caleb was napping, I brought every single piece of clothing I owned into the living room. I emptied every closet, dragged in every hamper, took all the coats off the hooks, grabbed my shoes from their shelves, and made a big ol' mountain. It was a ridiculous amount of stuff.

I stared at the pile for a little while and sipped my coffee, then finally worked up the courage to start. One at a time, I took each item in my hands and asked if it "sparked joy" in my heart and soul. I didn't ask if I'd worn it recently. Or if it was functional or trendy or new or old or WHATEVER. I did what the KonMari Method told me to do and asked ONLY if the thing in my hands sparked joy.

And I was AMAZED, people. One ratty shirt could leave me feeling deeply loved and cherished (a faded blue Coldplay T-shirt, from their 2005 tour--Andy surprised me with tickets as a "welcome home" present when I first moved back from Germany); another might contain deep feelings of shame and vulnerability (the high school hoodie I pretty much lived in at the age of 16. And by "lived," I think I mean "hid"). There were "classic" pieces my heart wanted no part of but that I'd held on to for years, because they'd always be in style. (Never mind that they'd never be my style.) I was surprised by what ended up as toss or keep, and I was shocked by the emotions I'd been storing up via my closet.

It makes sense. I've spent the better part of the last decade trying to find my footing, bouncing from one classroom, apartment, and country to the next. My closet told the story of my first teaching job in Berlin, followed by my return home less then six months later, when I lived with my parents for a year and spent way more than I saved, usually on cute clothes. There were long skirts and wide-brimmed hats from Abu Dhabi next to tank tops and short dresses I purchased when we first moved back. And in each of those impulsive indulgences I sensed a pang of guilt: I was only able to wear them a handful of times before discovering I was pregnant.

My life and body have been in a state of constant flux for over five years. There was so much upheaval. It's only now, after three consecutive years Stateside, that I can say I finally feel like I'm settling back into myself. Andy and I are much more focused on thriving right where we are, rather than striving to figure out where we'd like to be. Becoming parents definitely has something to do with it: We're in a season of establishing roots. It's time for our home--and my closet--to reflect that.

In the end, I packed up three trash bags to haul to Goodwill, and I have a fourth of newer, name-brand items that I'm planning to sell. The clothes I put back in my closet have room to breathe again (an apt metaphor). I also have a much better sense of my personal style: Tomboy with a feminine twist, folksy with a bit of polish or edge.

In lieu of a big family vacation this spring, we're setting aside some dollars to rebuild our wardrobes with quality pieces that suit the place we're at in our lives right now, in line with the slow fashion philosophy. My biggest priority? New socks, underwear, bras, and tank tops. Yes, I held each of these in my hands one at a time as well, and let me just say: Not a whole lotta joy going on in that department. But really, these are the things I'd like to feel best about. They're the items of clothing I wear closest to my body, every day. Same goes for pajamas. I'm going to choose just a few sets I feel GREAT about, then cherish them.

It probably all sounds so nutty and privileged, and I guess it kind of is. But I've been on such a high this week! There is so much FREEDOM in letting go of both the physical items and the emotional baggage they represent. As I say, therapy--some of the cheapest, most satisfying therapy I've ever had. Who knew?

And now... time to tackle the books!