and away we go!

Weeks of preparation and planning - hours of decorating, baking, shopping and wrapping. All for only a day or two - a few memories to make, memories to hold on too. It's always a whirlwind, and I am always relieved to be done with it. Now, on the 28th of December I have disassembled the tree, taken down the decorations and stored it all away for another year - and I don't know if I even really let it sink in. It almost feels like Christmas didn't happen - but there is a sense of relief that it being over with brings, so somewhere deep I know it has. It's now on to the very overwhelming task of rearranging, organizing, and preparing this tiny space for the arrival of another child - another love-of-our-life. I have mastered the art of getting through.. seemingly without really processing what it is I am getting through. 33 days left... and I wonder how I have floated through the last 247? I wonder how I am going to complete the tasks ahead of me in such a short time frame. I've never had a completely devoted partner around when it came to raising a newborn - so just the thought of it makes me squirm with anticipation. It's all new, it's all completely unknown! Now, to start the races!

would you hear me if I told you? that my heart is with you now..

There is a place inside of me that I do not recognize. I find myself going there a lot lately - searching out the darkness I have seemingly ignored for the last 23 years. Perhaps its the place where everything I can't deal with goes - for it is very dark, very murky.. like thick fog. I find myself wanting to sit at the edge of it and breathe it in like life support. So many broken objects lying around - nothing I can seem to repair or make sense of. For so long I've let the business of fixing encase me - there was always something to repair, something to build up again. I've spent so much time on everything (one) else that I don't know how to fix myself anymore. I am floating outside of myself - watching the destruction, rendered unable to stop it. I foolishly let myself believe that once beat, the demons would leave me be. Somewhere amidst one of the biggest wars of my life, I forgot that life is a constant battle - there is always a hill to climb. I feel ashamed - where did I wander off too? I am stronger than this, stronger than who I've become. It's only a hill, only a challenge - when have I ever shied away from that? Somewhere along the way I forgot my willpower - forgot that despite the struggle to get up, there is always a rewarding decline. Perhaps the dark place has become so ever present to remind me of that... to remind me that it will continue to grow, if I don't start walking now.

selfish vs. selfless

By the time I was old enough to know how to care for others selflessly I was already a mother. I had already taken on the responsibility of caring, unconditionally loving, protecting and raising another human being - there was no time in between to be a selfish adult. I've never known the luxury of completely living only for myself - and having an agenda that revolves only around me. I chose to be a mother when I was still just learning how to embrace adulthood - and while choosing this, I gave up a lot of things that most 18 year old's wouldn't dream of. I gave up being selfish and I gave up living freely. Not only did my interests change, but so did my priorities. It has taken me some time to really understand that despite the best of efforts - it is truly impossible for anyone to fully understand what this kind of transformation is like and what it means, until you go through it. On the contrary, I've never been on the other end because I have been a mother for 6 years - long since anyone else I know would ever even consider taken the leap into parenthood. All I've ever been after is the understanding that I am always going to do what is best for my children - despite agendas, commitments and expectations of others. I will always make the best judgment call I can for my kids, before anyone else - including myself. That is what motherhood is, that is what it's like to live selflessly.

it just keeps getting better.

one week: butterflies, and kissing in the rain
one month: i love you.
three months: i will marry you.
six months: "daddy"
eight months: "will you marry me?"
ten months: move in together.
twelve months: surprise! we're expecting.

I wouldn't change a single thing. Forever and a day - despite the speed.

I love you more today than the first day I said it to you.

she says it's only in her head.

too dumb. don't think. not listening. don't understand.

whichever way I turn, whichever way I go with it - it's wrong. I don't know how I ever doubted where the suffocating anxiety was coming from - or the constant insecurity.

there's a 6 year old Katie, who lives within me - and currently, she has taken full control and left no residency for anyone else. and how can I not grant it to her? how can I tell her to go when she is called back constantly to defend her territory? I think it's only proper to let her find some solace, instead of traveling back and forth between persona's with not a moment's rest.

Surely, I sound crazy. I suppose by now, I must be.

present.

We can pass through days. We can live through moments. We can move along with the chaos of the events of our days. We can simply follow through with the duty of living, and not expect anything more. But when do we stop and realize what we're missing? When does it make us stop and notice everything we are just living through? I want to live it, not through it! I want to feel it - touch and taste it. I want to break down barriers with my own two hands and I want to walk the path less taken. I am worn down from the lull of the familiar - expecting things only to be let down, wanting things but holding back. I am so tired from watching my life go ahead of me, as I follow behind. I've been looking at myself in the mirror - picking myself apart, letting guilt rule.. when what I need to do is change my stride. I need to stop watching life, and start participating again.

"So I'm beginning to see some problems
With the ongoing work of my mind
And I've got myself a new mantra
It says don't forget to have a good time
Don't let the sellers of stuff power enough to rob you of your grace"

throw away your anger

I don't mean to sound ungrateful - I don't mean no harm. I'm just after something I can hold on to, something that will leave a lasting impression. I don't want you to be someone your not, and I don't want you to try and impress. I just want real, I want raw - I want the basics. I can't say I understand the act of killing something just to hold the trophy, I don't understand the need to defeat your opponents. Give me conversation without the frosting - give me company without the expectation. Tell me how it is, tell me fears, tell me triumphs. Just don't give me bullshit - and don't expect me to hold back from calling you on it. I'm not here to entertain or make you smile - but I'll be glad if who I am entertains you, or if how I entertain makes you smile. Don't ask me to be something I'm not to fit who you think I should be, and I won't ask you to fit the mold of something that everyone expected of you. We are who we are, we will grow and shrink and grow again. We will fight and talk and fuck and fight again. But if there is raw, if there is gravel road to stand on - if there is conversation without the bullshit.. it's all good. It's all gravy.

the joys.

wired. my brain is going a million miles a second - and I'm all jittery. unfortunately I am completely unmotivated to actually do anything... and the heart burn that accompanies the jitters is disgustingly painful. who would have thought after 7 months of being coffee free - one cup would do this much damage. I wonder what it will be like once the baby is here, and I relax for a bit with a cold one. end up on the floor, no doubt. it's incredible what your body goes through to reproduce - what sacrifices (and beer and coffee are HUGE sacrifices) we make to make sure the fetus has a safe and pleasant ride through. leg cramps, morning sickness, stretch marks, heart burn, weakened bladder, migraines, braxton hicks, restless nights and discomfort aside - I really do love being pregnant. There is nothing in this world like it, and I'll never experience the same pregnancy twice. 25 months pregnant, 36 hours of labour, 30 months of breastfeeding combined so far - and I wouldn't have it any other way.

by now you should have some how realized what you've got to do.

I close my eyes, I hold my cheek next to your skin - and breath you in. There is nothing quite like the smell of your skin, nothing that makes me feel safer. We are bound to fall, fail, quit, get up, dust off - and begin again. Life is too messy for anything to ever be simple - life is to good to ever stop trying. It took me some time to understand what I was doing here, and some days I'm still not sure. With all odds stacked against us, I think we've done pretty good for ourselves. I wonder if it will ever be clear - if we'll ever be able to sail smoothly without tidal waves and rocky waters. I wonder if it would even matter? Maybe that's just part of the glue that keeps us holding... maybe it's just the way it's supposed to go. I can feel the intensity of the ever changing life we lead - it holds me tight, leaves me gasping for air. It's not the first though, and it's not the last either. I know that it has no barring on what we can accomplish. I can't help feeling like I've repeated these words so many times over, phrased a little differently because my mind was working on a different angle. Maybe it's a testament, a reminder to myself of what is real... what is pure and whole. It reminds me not to forget where we came from, where we are and where we are going. It reminds me not to forget how it's shaped us, and how it will continually change us. It reminds me of the ever changing, ever strong love and commitment - it reminds me of the me who you've helped me to discover.

silenced.

Listen carefully to the words that come out of your mouth, watch cautiously where you step - and be prepared for the road to come to a dead end. I've nothing to say, not a word that makes sense or brings clarification and resolution. Welcome to the dead end.

we're ordinary people.

The air was thick, it left a layer on my skin - I needed the outside. Bundled, and unprepared for the sting of cold on my face - I ventured outside in search of a different feeling. It didn't take me long to realize that the thickness would follow me where ever I placed my body, no matter where I tried to hide. In hindsight, the wide open air just left me feeling even more trapped and fearful. It is almost suffocating sometimes, the air inside these walls. I want so badly to feel like I can control the outcome and that regardless of what continues to happen around me - that I am able to steer the sails of my ship. Failure is always associated with the realization that I can't always decide which way we will sail, what obstacle's will get in the way - where we eventually end up. It doesn't just take me to man the ship - it isn't that easy. The fog is just so dense, so unruly - and I struggle with going in blind. One foot in front of the other, and a confidence in my step. Now if only I could rid my atmosphere of the thickness, and breathe a sigh of relief..

what've you been searching for?

My head is full to the brim of ideas and emotions - but I am still chasing after a place where it can be exposed. I am still wandering around waiting for a room to appear that I can sit, where I am conscious but confident - able to let it free fall out of my mouth and into your lap. I'm getting closer, I can feel it in my bones. You've been so patient, you've been so tired - it's been a long time. The weight of the world on our shoulders, the weight of our choices that follow - it's a lot to carry, it's a lot to hold on to. But it's alright, it feels okay - and somewhere beyond the fog that leaves us blinded to what is in front of us... I know there is a light of some kind. You keep me balanced, and let me explore the uncertainty - even when it is like nails scratching ruthlessly against a chalk board. It's not always easy - it's not always fun... but it is ours, it is strong and will hold. I will never give up on what is true, I will never turn my back on the long road. Hold my hand, kiss my lips, lay with me on cold nights, smile when I'm crying, be honest, tell it to me straight even if it will bring tears, be kind to the insecurities, be strong when I can't be - and in return, I will do the same for you. I know it's not always easy, I know it's not always fair - but together I think we have the ability to move mountains... and at the very least, take down those walls.

a little me

She beams with confidence every time she is faced with a challenge that is past her experience - she shines with independence as she tackles another battle that is beyond what her maturity level should permit. I don't remember what it felt like to get on a school bus and ride away from my mum - what it felt like as I traveled to and from school every day alone, without an adult sitting next to me and monitoring what I was doing. I imagine the bus ride is a very big part of her love of school - the freedom it presents her with, the ability to be her own person without the attachment of a mother, sister, father. She is able to find her own comfort with what she can and cannot do, what is proper and what is not. I still find myself watching for longer than I need as she rides away, wishing I could go with her - that there wasn't a part of her life that didn't involve me. We'll safely call that attachment parenting :) and despite my best efforts, she has grown up - become a little independent thinker, a strong minded human being... a little me.

a place way out back

There is a place, way out back - where no one ever goes. It's secluded and quiet, and extremely beautiful. It's a long trek to get there, and a rough one at that - and perhaps that's why no one ever goes there. I find that a lot of the time, we fear the voyage and don't realize how rewarding the final destination would be if we would just take the plunge and endure the hardships. I wonder when the reward becomes greater than the fear we hold on to so tightly... when the intrigue of the unknown outweighs the lull of the familiar. We have so many journey's to embark on, so many places to discover and explore - and yet, here we are - fearful of the long walk there. What are we so scared of? When did the grasp of "responsibility" hold us back from the joys and exhilaration of adventure? We all have a place, way out back - it's just a matter of taking the time and effort to go and explore... take a risk, a leap of faith - and discover! I carry the weight of my decisions, and am also rewarded by the choices I've made - but it's not an excuse to stop myself from living. It's not an excuse to fear the hike to the place way out back, it should be motivation that regardless of what the journey would throw at me - I would get there, possibly bruised and battered... but wiser, and readier than ever before to take on yet another challenge.

potty mouth.

FUCK.

SHIT.

STUPID.

BULLSHIT.

SHIT FUCK.

rawr!!

productive.

let it snow

The snow falls and a layer of clean and crisp is carpeted over the earth. The world looks new, untouched - free of the pollution and the rot, the garbage and the destruction. It is simple, and fresh - like a brand new ground to walk on. There is something unique about the first snow fall... perhaps its the realization that indeed it is now winter (despite the unseasonably warm temperature's we were having up until a few days ago). Regardless the reason, there is nothing quite like it. Coincidentally the first snow fall landed on the first day of my third trimester. So for me, the snow fall is a reminder of what this winter is bringing us. The snow means, just as the season is changing, so are our lives.

ours

It has been brought to my attention that despite my best effort, my subconscious has a hard time recognizing that I am not alone in this. I am unable to articulate my thoughts and feelings about what my body is going through or what is to come without claiming possession over *our* baby. I seem to forget that although I am the one experiencing the internal changes, everyone around me is experiencing the external - and that although this baby is residing inside of my body, my family is also deeply connected to him/her as well. I think that it's possible after all the uprooting and abandonment the girls have gone through, my subconscious guard is cautious. My possessive nature is also always on guard to make sure that my children cannot come to harms way, regardless of why or by who. It's a natural instinct to be protective, and being cautious just comes with the territory. However, when it is verbalized I do not feel the same possessiveness over this baby - and will happily use the "proper" terminology (ie. "our" and "we"). With time it will just come out naturally, and perhaps I am still adjusting to the whole idea of sharing. I have always been pretty selfish when it comes to sharing anything I care deeply about. Selfish, selfish me.

ninety one

I wonder if we as humans would make the sacrifices that come with pregnancy for any other purpose than to create another life. My body is round, and sore and unusual. My head is full, and I am too tired to create a thought past the basic day-to-day grind of thinking. I have constant heart burn and leg cramps, I wake up throughout the night because my bladder has been weakened to that of an elderly man. My clothes don't fit, my skin is stretched - I am uncomfortable more often than I can find comfort, and I am always hungry. I get pimples constantly, and my hair falls out more readily than ever before. My mood swings are unbearable, and I cry over commercials on TV. My brain is mush, and most of what I say is nonsense. I can't complete a full thought without making some kind of error - and I'm amazed that I've been able to fill up some of this page with words (mind you, I've been writing for 2 hours and this is all I've come up with...) It's all worth it in the end, which is why we push through. None of what I experience right now, will matter when I am cradling my baby and soaking up the pure ecstasy of having a new life in my arms. Bare with me, I am optimistically hoping I will give birth to my mind as well as my child in 13 weeks time. One can hope, right?

every tool is a weapon, if you hold it right

How do I even begin to explain the heart ache of another person? How do I tell a story I myself do not even understand, answer questions that have no answers? How do I relive the heartbreak of a child, for the sake of understanding. No one should have to understand such a weight, such a pain - so early in their lives. I want to help her understand what it means, and why we are where we are now. I want to help her grasp the concept of unconditional love - and why it went away. I don't know if I'll ever know the answer. I don't understand how anyone could ever walk away from a child, there is no rhyme or reason to it to help me explain it. I walk through the towering piles of boxes, all containing a piece of the past - a piece of the puzzle. It's all so much bigger than I know how to put into words, it's all so much bigger than my comprehension. I have not come to terms with the hate I have stored for her, the hate she can not yet understand or know how to feel. Who am I to hate for her? Her mother, her keeper, her guardian. Hating doesn't help me to get her through the pain we have to once again face, it doesn't help her to move on and forward. It doesn't help to wallow.

she says its only in my head.

The light crept in too soon, and the numbers on the clock were too far past where I wanted to find them. Your arms were warm, your skin smooth and the small of your back so inviting for the round of my belly. He moves so much when he can feel you close by. I could lay there forever, and shut off the world. Your lips kept me hanging there, as you rolled out of bed and up into the world of the moving people. I wish the people of the world would just stop moving for a little while. The darkness is not long enough when the sheets are that warm, and your body is next to mine. The roller coaster of our life has kept me in a constant state of motion-sickness, and until now, I haven't felt stable on my feet. My knees have stopped shaking, my head feels steady and I can see blue skies in the forecast. It feels like its been a long time. So much happening in such a little time, and I am constantly perplexed by times ability to catch me off guard. 15 weeks, and life as we know it will be forever gone. So for now, until those days have gone and I am waking up with a new life next to our warm bodies - I will stay close to yours. I will wake in the crevices of the dips and turns of your body, safe and warm. Pull the blinds shut, unplug the clock - and smile.

ramble on

Restless and nostalgic. And I find myself inspecting the thoughts that are surging through my head, taking over my perception of what's really happening. I find myself wondering what the point is, wondering what difference does it make? It's a "put one foot in front of the other" kind of world, and I don't have any other option. I remember a time when I believed there was no time-stamp - that the moments that felt infinite would always come and go, and that I never had to worry about it ending. I remember a time when I really believed what I said out loud. I now find myself questioning the words that seamlessly stream from my lips. Sometimes my thoughts seem so far-fetched that even I can't grasp their meanings. Even this, these words I write - don't seem to add up. My head is full, and I'm not sure I remember how to empty it anymore. Mumble Mumble Mumble.

secrets

There is something to be said about the need to hide. I won't even pretend like it is not something everyone does from time to time, a little white lie here and there. In our society it is almost second nature because we are all so damn concerned about hurting other peoples feelings. There is a sense of entitlement to being the "good guy".. a feeling of pride, perhaps. So we make sure we keep everyone happy, everyone smiling - even if it means the occasional "no, that shirt doesn't make you look like a COMPLETE elephant". Where my concern comes in is when we start to elude reality to make way for the reality we have created. When we start to hide things about ourselves, about things we've done or said or felt (or things we're doing, saying or feeling..) and justify it without explanation. We all have secrets, we all have a skeleton, and a closet to hide it in... but when do we let go of that? Eventually, there comes a point when you need (should, could?) open up that closet and let someone in. What's worse is when you've left the door open a peep, enough for someone else to get an idea - and then slam it shut in their faces and tell them it's got nothing to do with them, or that it doesn't matter. It's a courtesy we give to people we let in, to open up the closet and share who we are, what we were and what we are aspiring to be. There is no room for secrets, and I've got nothing to hide.

the business of being born

I felt the amniotic fluid drip down my leg, and I was sure that my bladder had let go completely this time. It was about 9pm that I noticed it but my water didn't break on it's own with Emma, so it was a new concept to grasp. Jenn was here, and she had to convince me that it was indeed my water breaking.. that this was the beginning. It's funny in hindsight, that Jenn was the one who sat with me for the first few hours - for at that point she was not only my enemy, but my best friend as well. So many emotions ran through me, but I was happy to have her here for some reason - happy to walk with her to get things started. By midnight, I had tired myself enough to lay in bed and close my eyes for an hour - so Jenn went home. The hour came and went, and by 1pm I was wide awake and contractions had finally started to make me notice. I reluctantly got out of bed, lite some candles and wandered around the house double checking the kitchen and the bathroom and the bedroom - calming my restless mind that I had managed to prepare my home for a birth all on my own. I called my mum, and I called Lindsey - they were here quickly. I was a lot more confident the second time around, I knew what I did and did not want. I made my way to the bathroom, and ran a bath. I was puking, and I felt really weak - but it didn't have any barring on my progress. Kat and Barb (my midwives) came sometime in the night, although I can't recall when or if I even noticed. We (they) blew up the birthing pool which took up the entire kitchen, just as I had intended. My mum made tea, and forced toast into me. Emma slept peacefully through it all. At one point (I recall it being around 4:11) I was laying on the couch, in a trance - and the sound of the ticking of my wall clock was driving me mental. So my mum took out the battery, and the clock stayed at that time for at least a month after wards. At some point, someone called Kayeleigh and my sister and Laurel - who all made their way over at various points throughout the morning. Transition was different this time, as my water was already broken so there was no clear preparation for it to begin. Emma woke up around 8am, shortly after I had hit transition - I recall that she was really nervous. There were a lot of people in her house, and I was moaning (she still calls me momma bear because of this). I had done a lot of prep work with her to make sure she had an idea of what was to come during her siblings birth. Lise spent most of her time with Emma, and played in the birthing pool with her to keep her distracted. At one point, someone told me, Emma got so anxious she threw-up in the birthing pool. My sister, being the amazing aunty that she is, stayed in with her while someone else scooped out the puke. I remember that more than anything else. I was getting close to the end, I was open and my baby was ready to come - but I did not want to move. I was lured out of bed with the assurance that I could go outside, and walk. Barely draped in my house coat, this is exactly what I did. As soon as I was up and walking, I needed to push... so I started to push, in the back yard. My mum and Lindsey were guiding me through my walk, and when they caught on to what I was doing I was ushered back inside. I laid on my bed, gave one enormous push and there she was. Although, no one told me she was a she - I just assumed, and I had assumed right. It was such bliss, such incredible joy and excitement. Relief and exhaustion quickly followed. Sophie Isabel Dawn was born at 10:13 am on June 10th, 2010 and it was a Wednesday. She weighed 7Lbs 8 ounces - and her hair was black. She nursed like a pro, and fell asleep as soon as everyone had cleaned up and hustled out. Emma went with Laurel for the night, and Sophie and I slept all afternoon. I just remember being amazed. Every time I woke up "it was like Christmas morning" - there was this beautiful little human, that I created and brought into this world. She was my courage that no matter what, I could do what needed to be done. And I have.

Oh, the places you'll go.

Congratulations!
Today is your day.
You’re off to Great Places!
You’re off and away!

You have brains in your head.
You have feet in your shoes.
You can steer yourself any direction you choose.
You’re on your own. And you know what you know. And YOU are the guy who’ll decide where to go.

You’ll look up and down streets. Look’em over with care. About some you will say, “I don’t choose to go there.” With your head full of brains and your shoes full of feet, you’re too smart to go down a not-so-good street.

And you may not find any you’ll want to go down. In that case, of course, you’ll head straight out of town. It’s opener there in the wide open air.

Out there things can happen and frequently do to people as brainy and footsy as you.

And when things start to happen, don’t worry. Don’t stew. Just go right along. You’ll start happening too.

Oh! The Places You’ll Go!

You’ll be on your way up!
You’ll be seeing great sights!
You’ll join the high fliers who soar to high heights.

You won’t lag behind, because you’ll have the speed. You’ll pass the whole gang and you’ll soon take the lead. Wherever you fly, you’ll be best of the best. Wherever you go, you will top all the rest.

Except when you don’t.
Because, sometimes, you won’t.

I’m sorry to say so but, sadly, it’s true that Bang-ups and Hang-ups can happen to you.

You can get all hung up in a prickle-ly perch. And your gang will fly on. You’ll be left in a Lurch.

You’ll come down from the Lurch with an unpleasant bump. And the chances are, then, that you’ll be in a Slump.

And when you’re in a Slump, you’re not in for much fun. Un-slumping yourself is not easily done.

You will come to a place where the streets are not marked. Some windows are lighted. But mostly they’re darked. A place you could sprain both your elbow and chin! Do you dare to stay out? Do you dare to go in? How much can you lose? How much can you win?

And if you go in, should you turn left or right…or right-and-three-quarters? Or, maybe, not quite? Or go around back and sneak in from behind? Simple it’s not, I’m afraid you will find, for a mind-maker-upper to make up his mind.

You can get so confused that you’ll start in to race down long wiggled roads at a break-necking pace and grind on for miles across weirdish wild space, headed, I fear, toward a most useless place.

The Waiting Place…for people just waiting.

Waiting for a train to go or a bus to come, or a plane to go or the mail to come, or the rain to go or the phone to ring, or the snow to snow or waiting around for a Yes or No or waiting for their hair to grow. Everyone is just waiting.

Waiting for the fish to bite or waiting for wind to fly a kite or waiting around for Friday night or waiting, perhaps, for their Uncle Jake or a pot to boil, or a Better Break or a string of pearls, or a pair of pants or a wig with curls, or Another Chance. Everyone is just waiting.

No! That’s not for you!
Somehow you’ll escape all that waiting and staying. You’ll find the bright places where Boom Bands are playing. With banner flip-flapping, once more you’ll ride high! Ready for anything under the sky. Ready because you’re that kind of a guy!

Oh, the places you’ll go! There is fun to be done! There are points to be scored. There are games to be won. And the magical things you can do with that ball will make you the winning-est winner of all. Fame! You’ll be famous as famous can be, with the whole wide world watching you win on TV.

Except when they don’t. Because, sometimes, they won’t.

I’m afraid that some times you’ll play lonely games too. Games you can’t win ‘cause you’ll play against you.

All Alone!
Whether you like it or not, Alone will be something you’ll be quite a lot.

And when you’re alone, there’s a very good chance you’ll meet things that scare you right out of your pants. There are some, down the road between hither and yon, that can scare you so much you won’t want to go on.

But on you will go though the weather be foul. On you will go though your enemies prowl. On you will go though the Hakken-Kraks howl. Onward up many a frightening creek, though your arms may get sore and your sneakers may leak. On and on you will hike. And I know you’ll hike far and face up to your problems whatever they are.

You’ll get mixed up, of course, as you already know. You’ll get mixed up with many strange birds as you go. So be sure when you step. Step with care and great tact and remember that Life’s a Great Balancing Act. Just never forget to be dexterous and deft. And never mix up your right foot with your left.

And will you succeed?
Yes! You will, indeed!
(98 and ¾ percent guaranteed.)

Kid, you’ll move mountains!
So…be your name Buxbaum or Bixby or Bray or Mordecai Ale Van Allen O’Shea, you’re off to Great Places!
Today is your day!
Your mountain is waiting.
So…get on your way!

we are only as loud as the noises we make

I really believe that life does not hand us things we cannot handle. We may bite off more than we can chew - but over time I've realized if you chew long enough, eventually it will all get digested. We have both endured treacherous roads, steep inclines and road blocks - but we still concur all, and come out on top. Are we taking on a lot? Sure. Are we biting off more than we can chew? Maybe. Will it break our stride? Not a chance. It's going to be a lot of work, it's going to be stressful - and I don't doubt it will challenge us in ways we have not yet even dreamed of. Despite this, I am confident that although we are facing another steep incline - a scenic decline will follow, and we will once again come out on top. It's unknown, and that is scary - but I'll hold you're hand as long as you're holding mine. Take a deep breath, and jump - you're going do incredible things.

sometimes, most times.

Sometimes, I'm a bad mom. Sometimes, I have to tell Emma to be quiet because I can't listen to her sing for even a moment longer (the repetitive nature is enough to make me scream at the top of my lungs at points). Sometimes, I put the girls in their room - and close the door with instructions not to come out until they are fetched, just to get a few things done without a child grasping my leg or a battle breaking out. Sometimes, I let them eat persians for breakfast because it means one less meals worth of dishes. Sometimes, Sophie's clingy nature makes me want to scream. Sometimes, I lay in bed while they destroy the living room - and even though it ends up being more work for me in the end, it meant a few moments of rest for me (and it's always worth it). Sometimes, I really feel like I hate the endless, thankless tasks that come with being a mother. Sometimes, I won't let them do something creative - because I just don't have the energy or interest to clean up the mess after wards. Sometimes, they eat absolute junk for dinner because I don't want to cook. Sometimes, they watch entirely too much TV.

It's hard to let myself believe that more often than not, I'm a great mom. I have a hard time telling myself "your doing a good job, you have created wonderful children". Most times, I prepare a really well balanced meal and can convince them to eat vegetables (even though they hate them!). Most times, I will pull out all the arts & crafts materials and let them go wild. Most times, I try and be compassionate and calm when they are freaking out - most times, we come to a resolution without me having to yell. Most times, I take them out to the park, or for a walk, or a bike ride. Most times, I am happy to be a mom, and will carry out the tasks associated with being one. Most times, I look at these two marvelous little human beings and think "you're you, because of me - you got here, because of what I did for you." Everyday, I am so thankful for the way life panned out - thankful that they have shaped and molded into strong-willed, independent, smart, beautiful, inquisitive, creative kids. Most days, I wouldn't change a single thing.

of all the thing's I've lost - I miss my mind the most

I've found myself at a road block. I want to write, express, create and release - I want to speak what's on my mind. Instead I find myself filtering my thoughts - ruling out my opinions. I find myself negotiating with my own mind, a self-conscious tweak to everything I am trying to express. I don't know when I lost my confidence in my ability to say what I need to say - but nothing ever seems to come out right. I can sit here, typing and erasing over and over again - it doesn't matter what I'm writing about or what I'm trying to say, it all just seems to come out like jibberish. Maybe I just need to sit with my thoughts for awhile, maybe I need to take a break for awhile. I hope it's not long..

your loves the warmest place the sun ever shines

My belly is bounding, my breasts are swollen, my feet are sore and my mind is tired. Sharing my body with another heart, another breath, another life. The presence of life, a constant reminder of what is and what is to come. I lay awake with him (call it wishful thinking...) as he moves about, let's me know he is there, he is coming. There is not a moment that passes that is my own, that I do not share with another life. Here we lay, as one - breathing in and out, heartbeats pounding together. The anticipation for the changes he will bring us is so great and so powerful, it brings me to tears. He brings a smile to your face I've never seen come across those beautiful lips of yours - I hope he has your lips. It feels like such a mystery to me, like I've not done this before. It feels new, and intrigues me in ways I don't know how to explain. And I suppose, in some ways I haven't ever done this before - for I have never made a life with you. I've never been pregnant with a third child, and I've certainly never anxiously anticipated a life so greatly as this. I am still learning, and there is much left to the journey. I yearn for a greater understanding of who I am, who you are - who we make together. So much time to know, to learn and understand. I am only now understanding what making a human life out of love is really like. That's something else that I've never done. So here's to the life we have not yet entered - to a life we will live for the rest of our lives.

what kind of scale compares the weight of two beauties?

I had a dream that I was missing my hands. I didn't seem bothered by this unfortunate event, and went about my day-to-day life, struggling all the way. I kept finding myself in situations where I would need hands - and so I would be rendered helpless and defeated. It was constant, over and over I would come upon a task and be left to sit and watch and feel like a failure. I had no control, no power - nothing. When I woke up, I realized this is something I very rarely let happen. If I start to loose control, I dominate the situation so that anyone else trying to help me is left defeated and helpless instead. I realized sometimes these hands probably do more harm than good, and maybe that's why I didn't have hands. It was my minds way of saying "hey, Katie, how about you let go for a little and let someone else take the wheel?" - a subconscious wake up call, so to speak.

There will always be someone who will worry about me, always someone to sit anxiously as I tell my story or explain my mind. I would like everyone to stop worrying, stop biting their nails about my actions and decisions - stop second guessing every step I make. What I need from humanity at this point are brains as vast and complex as mine - or at least brains that are willing to accept that's the way mine functions. I like to re-think my every step, and I like to be sure. I'm more than aware that a lot of people don't think like this - but for once it would be nice to be accepted for the way I am instead of being expected to fit some kind of mold of how I should be doing things. If it wasn't working, I'd welcome the concern and worry and anxiousness. I would like some trust from the world in letting me decide when it was or wasn't working. I would like some support for the system I've got going, and a little recognition for what I do to keep it functioning. That's all, just a little support - just a little understanding - just a little respect.

stick with what you know

When your stuck in a way of thinking and dealing - it is extremely hard to take a positive turn, and change your groove. However, it's not impossible and once you start it's generally smooth sailing. The rocky bit is admitting the changes need to be made, and turning the boat around. And when your sharing the wheel of the ship, and your both trying to turn the boat in separate directions, what is to come? This is by far the biggest struggle of turning your habits around, for when a wall has supports it's a lot harder to knock it down. When someone is {seemingly} unwilling to go with the ebb and flow of your changes, where do you go from there? I think finding yourself in the chaos of you interactions with everyone else (especially once you have kids, who take up about 90% of your brain) takes a lot of work.. and sometimes I have a hard time believing it is worth the effort. Now, don't get me wrong - I am the last person to conform.. but when your left in the mess of a change that is not changing.. it feels easier to just give in, and stick with what you know.

birthin ain't for the weak o' hearts

It was a Friday evening, and I can remember how sure I was. It was 4 days past the expected due date, so at this point I knew that once the pain started it was time for work. I crawled into bed, and tried my hardest to push the butterflies from my stomach and the anxiety from my head. Easier said than done, when you know your only hours away from meeting the human you have created, and whom has been growing inside you for 9 months. I managed to get a few hours of rest, but around 1am - I was woken by the intensity of what was only the beginning of my pain. My mum ran me a bath, lit some candle's and hushed me through my contractions. I wonder what women do without their mums at their side, to do these things. This went on throughout the night - restless sleep, bath's and hushing. Somewhere inside of me, I knew I was in for a long haul and tried my best to be patient(again, easier said than done..)Someone called the midwives, and someone called my doula, and someone called Laurel. I had a scheduled stretch and sweep that afternoon at the hospital, and I can remember my mum arguing with the midwives when they insisted I still make the appointment. When they accepted that I was not making the appointment and that I was indeed in early labor (oh, how early it really was...) Lillian came over to check me over as my midwives we're still attending another birth. Lindsey arrived shortly there after, and began her work of massaging and caressing my swollen and tired body. I tried to eat, it came back up. I tried to rest, but the pain kept me awake. I took lots of baths, and walked as often as I could - but I seem to remember just wanting it "to all be over". My sister was in her room, "dieing" because she was so sick. She had a really awful cold, so she couldn't be a part like she had wanted to be. My dad hid out downstairs in the basement, and now looking back - I can only imagine the anxious pacing that must have taken place. Mum stayed by my side, the whole time. By 6pm it had already been 21 hours of labor - and I was so tired, I remember feeling like my body just couldn't take it any longer. The midwives eventually coaxed me into breaking my water, because transition was just not coming on it's own. That's when the contractions became a whole new level of intense. I remember looking around me, and wondering how my surroundings became so clean and organized (oh, the power of a mother's presence). I moved my body to the living room, and sat on the birthing stool for a awhile, at which time the urge to push became much stronger. Lindsey kept telling me to moan, roar and concentrate "be the momma bear, let her out" ... I can hear her saying that to me. After about 15 minutes of pushing on the stool, I positioned myself on the futon - and surrender to the place reserved inside of me for birthing. I would come in and out of contractions - and in between, no one else was around me.. I was in my own world, breathing and talking to Emma - telling her to come, I was ready for her - and to find her way through the tunnel. At one point, when in the middle of pushing my dad had come upstairs to check out the scene - only to come face to face with my laid out body and a disgruntled look on my face. He matched my expression, which made me laugh - he looked like he had just taken a bite of a rotten lemon. 45 minute's of pushing later (and 26 hours of laboring later) Emma's head emerged. My mom guided my hand down, to feel her - and I childishly squirmed. I'd never felt that before, it shocked me - her skin was wrinkled from being squished by the birth canal. One more contraction, and one great big push - and there she was, beautiful and blood covered Emma Susan. Born at 10:44 pm, weighing 8lbs on the dot. I wanted to cry, I wanted to laugh, I wanted to scream. It was the most overwhelming, exciting and exhilarating feeling I had ever experienced... and to this day, it was the most intense moment of my whole life. I had done it, we had done it - together. This was the birth of Emma, and the birth of me, into motherhood.

June 23rd, 2010

Just for a moment - one moment, let's not wear the weight of our life. Let's smile at each other, embrace the journey and accept the consequences of our ignorance to the time continuing on without us. Your brown eyes capture all of me and I fall in too deep - encased in you. The road is long and grueling and very often frightening. So just for a moment lets close our eyes and take a deep breath - let the music and road take us away. Sometimes, I love you so much it scares me. Sometimes, I need you so bad it hurts. Sometimes the road will just take us away.

I love you.


*road trip journalism*

you can sit beside me.

We all spend so much time looking for something else, the next big thing. Wandering around - looking at the greener grass, and hoping for a bridge to appear. Not everyone, of course - but the greater half of us (as I see it) are wanting. We find way's to fulfill us temporarily - but it's not enough. At what point do we finally stop, look around and say to ourselves "this, this is good enough". At what point are we going to stop searching for some kind of resolution to everything and just accept things as they are? When will we learn to adapt to fit what we desire? Is it so much to ask to just be content for a little while? I watch the people come and go - and we pay for the longing in so many ways... whether it be with our debit cards or our hearts, there is always a price. What is too much? How much are you willing to pay for the greener lawn? What's so good about green grass anyway? In the end, it's just a weed. I know that nothing and no one is perfect - and I know that there will always be something more to aspire to... something more to create, and imagine. I just wonder when we will stop bleeding for something we already have standing in front of us?

Positive Affirmations:

You are a good mother, daughter and sister.
You are a good friend.
You are a genuine human being.
You are loved.
You are appreciated.
You have wonderful daughters, a wonderful family.
It is *not* always your fault.
You can't control the universe; but you can lead the troops.
Your smile is beautiful, and contagious.
You have a beautiful soul.
The road will always have ills - but there is always a decline, after the climb.
Frowning gives you wrinkles.
Laugh lines gives you character.
This is not the end of the journey, keep moving forward - look for the light.

bruised and battered

Pattern's tell you everything you need to know about someone. Pattern's can go as far as to tell you what will come in your future, what you will endure and face in a relationship (or as an individual). What I have come to realize is that admitting too and accepting our patterns is a difficult process. It requires us to put it all on the table and examine our faults, habits and insecurities. From experience, I can tell you it is more than pulling teeth to even get myself to go through this process - let alone trying to get someone else to do it as well. This is where trust and honesty come in to play. Without those two vital organs of a relationship, you've basically got an empty carcass of a relationship that will inevitably crash and burn. So when you begin to evaluate your patterns, you may come to find a lot of ugly things about someone you love - or even harder, yourself. It's a very big job - and I think we all want to believe love shouldn't be work. I don't believe it though, I think everything in life takes work. Anything you care about, anything you want from life - is going to take work, dedication, and time. It's whether or not the time is available, the dedication is strong and the work ethic is present. If we live through it, and we come out at the end of the tunnel with a lesson learned and a fresh perspective - we will concur all, and never look back. Or maybe - maybe the truth's been told.. maybe we have gone as far as we can, and there is nothing to say. There's only one way to find out - and like it's been stated... a lot of work is ahead.

she says he says

I want to understand, really I do. I just get so lost in the hypocrisy that it feels nearly impossible to find any kind of sense in it all. Role's reversed (which they have been) I would "be in the dog house" ...so-to-speak. All hell would break loose, and it would be an ongoing battle for a few days. So when you get up and do the exact same thing, why is it wrong of me to be upset? Why is it expected of me to sit here, compliant and accepting when the same favor can not be returned? I just can't wrap my head around it. I go, it's wrong. I stay, and feel trapped, it's wrong. You go, it's fine. You stay, it's fine. Well what I want to understand is how did it become so unbalanced? Is the same respect not supposed to be given to each parties? Are the same rules not to apply? I go out, during the day - when your not home... and it's an argument. You go out, at night - when I am home... and I am expected to sit pretty and smile? Expectations are growing a bit thick, and it's suffocating. Maybe a clearer road, a set out list of expectations, a rule of thumb perhaps? I would just like to be given the respect of a common ground, and a mutual respect.

lost

The leaves are changing color, and it's only getting colder.

I feel like we missed something, skipped out on something important. I am haunted by broken plans, childish dreams, hopeful new love. I can't say I'm not to blame for that, can't say anyone is to blame though either. Life get's in the way of our plans, robs us of time, and holds our dreams captive. It doesn't stop me from wanting to fly, go somewhere no one can find us and start something new. Wanting, wishing, waiting. Wasted time.

I gave away my innocence, gave away my sanity - and stood there feeling helpless and stupid. It's taken me a long time to be comfortable with the choices I have made - the path I have taken - the life I have created. It's taken a long time to accept that I am not alone in this, that everything will be okay. It's taken a long time for me to understand that everything takes time.

But it's getting cold, and I feel like we lost something along the way

leaving the rest behind

"To love is to suffer. To avoid suffering one must not love. But then one suffers from not loving. Therefore to love is to suffer, not to love is to suffer. To suffer is to suffer. To be happy is to love. To be happy then is to suffer. But suffering makes one unhappy. Therefore, to be unhappy one must love, or love to suffer, or suffer from too much happiness. I hope you're getting this down."
- Woody Allen

I have learned that being in love - real, true, hard love does take a lot of work. It takes suffering, and sacrifice and compromise. It also takes compassion, and compromise - and in turn, love brings many things. I've seen love in many forms - watched it burn in it's glory. I've also watched it crash down, after too much heat - and a lot of neglect and impatience. The thing about fire is it needs to be tamed to some extent, otherwise it burns the whole city down. I've watched love like that, I've even felt it. Love also seems to take many forms, and although the core of it remains - the outer shells will mold and form as you do. Love is made to bend and curve and curl - and real love is constructed to take a lot of abuse. I remember being a child and having the illusion that once "true love" was found, it was unbreakable. I believed that love meant happiness, joy and excitement - all the time. I believed that it was impenetrable, and that no matter what - true love stayed. I also remember being old enough to finally understand the falsity in such beliefs. It took trial and error, heart break, abuse and defeat before I could embrace all those things and really let myself go. Giving up possession of your heart is a really hard thing to do, and sometimes I still try and take it back (we'll blame that on my need to control). When it's all said and done though, when I am done my day and I am laying in my bed next to you - I am humbly amazed at how worth it this is. It's worth the compromising, and the arguments, the disagreements and the sacrifice. It's worth everything we endure, because I am enduring it with you.

"Love sets fire to your schedule, and then calls an end to time" Ani

nothing to say, go figure.

maybe

It is a very common practice to adapt to expectation. Someone does the dishes every day, every week, and never fails - you begin to just expect it to be done by that person. If one person takes on the responsibility of mending to rips and tares, patching the holes and starting the reno's in the first place - time and time again, someone else in that house will just grow to expect that it is that person who will continue to do the work (unless of course, it is verbally requested they are lent a hand..) It is also grown to be an expectation that the act of verbalizing ones thoughts and opinions will always take action first and foremost if that is what generally happens. If I were to always say when I was upset, or angry, or sad, or happy and express why without hesitation - the person on the receiving end of said verbalization would grow to expect that they would not have to take any part in the process. They would grow to assume that I would just say it, without taking time for quiet observation. After all, if that is the norm, it is now an expectation right? Well what happens when I don't feel like doing the dishes, and I don't feel like starting the renos - and I don't FEEL like being verbal with my feelings. One thing I have learned is that if you grow to expect anything, you've grown to comfortable and you need to throw some cold water in your face. Always expect the unexpected - and own up to the responsibility of taking action where someone else may have left off.

And maybe, I like my privacy. Maybe I like having a special place I can go where I won't be ridiculed for my opinions and thoughts. Where there are other people who understand, who have compassion and are willing to listen without some kind of reserved judgment. Maybe I hold on to that with a death grip, and won't share it because it's all I've got to make me feel like my opinions and thoughts are important on certain topics. Maybe, it should be understood that everyone has their own spot - like midnight visits on the deck, with no word being said.

Maybe I'd like some companionship that comes without frustration and opinions. Maybe I would like someone to sit at my side, and try to understand without judging and assuming first. Maybe I'm asking too much.

I hold hands with my trust.

I trust my body. I trust it more than my thoughts, as it has always done for me what I required it to do. It has amazed me with it's strength and endurance - captivated me with it's ability to reproduce human life, nourish that life and make it grow. It then goes on to produce food for said life, and sustain it's production so that the life can flourish. It goes through hell and back every changing season - it guide's me through every menstrual cycle, every cold, every infection. I trust my body to do what it needs to do - I trust it to function the way it was intended to function, and help me to work through anything I might experience. With that trust, I believe in it's ability to give birth without intervention or trauma. I trust it to tell me when something is wrong, and help me through that scenario in a way that will see me and my child through. I understand not every circumstance can be predicted, and sometimes intervention is a necessity. I also understand that my body was built to birth, it was built to nurse - and it was built for motherhood. Call it destiny, or fate - I call it my way. This is also why I birth at home - where I am comfortable, where I feel safe - where my body can function without anxiety and fear. I was told I was brave today (for the hundredth time) to birth at home, to trust my body that way. "Anything could go wrong" they said - and they are right, anything could. Whether I am in a hospital or I am in my home, that something is going to go wrong either way. I trust my body to tell me if and when I need to change what I am doing. I also trust the people around me to be alert to these changes, because after all this is what they are trained to do. I am so tired of it being looked at as some kind of nobility, as some kind of heroism on my part. I am also tired of it being viewed as dangerous or risky - it is no more dangerous and no more noble than any other women doing exactly what her body was designed to do ... I am giving birth, bringing life into the world - whether I choose to do that in the comfort of my own bedroom (or bathroom, or kitchen, or back yard har har) it doesn't change the process or the outcome. Birthing is birthing, it's that simple.

just show me a moment that is mine

I'm like a fly bouncing back and forth on the window pane, trying to escape. No matter how many times I bash my skull into the glass, I don't give up - my determination to get through the glass is too thick to use reason. Call me stubborn if you want, I call it committed. The problem is, eventually I have to give up and find an alternate route - or hope someone is kind enough to open the glass for me so I can get through. Hoping get's me nowhere though, and so eventually I have to resign my skull-bashing and accept that I have to fly around a bit longer to find my way through. My problem is I abandon the purpose of getting through the glass in the first place and find a replacement scenario. The issues that were presented in the beginning with me trying to get through the glass are left in the back of my now-bashed-in brain, and I move on to some other problem. It's a problem of course until I find another window - start bashing again and remember "hey! I just ran into this same problem not too long ago!" Dealing with things as they come is easier said than done for me, especially if it's only me doing the bashing and everyone else is standing on the other side of the window - watching, waiting for me to figure it out. I wonder if it would just be easier for someone to help me along, open up the window... but leave the screen. That way, I can get a taste of resolution - but am still forced to work through it without giving up. Give me a taste of the end, so I can be motivated to not give up on finding compromise.

baaaaad

I *suck* at proof-reading and editing my work. I don't even realize it until a few posts later, and I read back and see all my errors. A friendly "Dear Katie, you sucked at editing this post" comment would not hurt every now and again people. I'm just saying, I clearly don't pick up on these things myself.

That is all.

the lonely boy on the midnight city bus

It's as if every feeling that I come in contact with - every emotion, has to course it's way through me before I can pass it by. There was a boy, very young, sitting on the bus seemingly alone. His mother was close by, talking with the bus driver and ignoring him. He wanted to sleep, and he was fighting the urge to close his eyes which I couldn't understand. It was midnight, and he was very obviously accustomed to having to be awake at this point in the night. He grabbed for his mother's arm - tried to rest his head on her arm, which was met with a grimace and a scolding for trying to sleep as she made clear they would "be home soon". It made me want to cry - seeing this little boys desperation for attention scolded, his needs neglected for the purpose of socializing. It made me wonder how anyone who has not begun to understand the priority of being selfless would even bother reproducing - why torture a child with your inability to put the tender needs and wants of a young human first when it is time? In reality, at that point in the night it would be her time to be selfish (as is bedtime to any parent, really) but instead she had him carted around on the city bus at midnight. It's easy to observe these kinds of situations and criticize what kind of parent she is, construct in my mind what kind of life "he must have" and hold a pre-assumed judgment from only one encounter. Who am I to assume anything? Who am I to feel the power of saying anything about what kind of mother she is, or what kind of life she leads. It just makes me sad - the world makes me sad... humanity makes me sad.

after all

Clutter often feels overwhelming, like there is no way to sort through the madness. I find once I start though, it get's done quickly. The problem is that procrastination is best friend's with clutter, and therefore I do not begin the process and it builds and builds and builds until it is so overwhelming that the clutter takes over. I let it take over my subconsciousness, and am left with an uncontrollable anxiety.

The clutter is preventing me from seeing much past that thought, so many things are running through my head - but nothing with enough substance to take precedence. I just feel cloudy - muggy even. What else can I do, but take hold of it and bite it's head off?

home.

I didn't think I knew how to describe what home was to me, didn't think there was much substance to the word. I know now, it's a feeling. It's a warmth that starts at your toes and goes up through your body all the way to your fingertips - it's the sweet embrace - it's a comfort that can't be matched by anyone or anything. Home is where you are - and so this building is temporary, but it is where we find our spot together. That makes it home, and I am happy to be in it. Happy to be sitting here listening to your sweet voice - receiving your captivating smile.. being where you are. Home is something you create - something you find and elaborate on, make your own. Your my own - and there isn't much sweeter than that. My head is cloudy, and I feel like I've been gone for years. I want to just lay in bed with you for a few days, collect the lost time and make it up. I wonder when I will feel back to myself, back to routine and back to home. It's good to be here, to get the wheels starting again - get into my skin and feel it all out. I feel full, and I just want to empty it all somewhere so that I can start filling back up. The never ending process - fill it up, dump it out, repeat. But I know one thing for sure, hearing you sing is one of my favorite things in this world - and I wouldn't trade being right here right now for anything.

stick

There is something to be said about a person who can withstand the weight of someone elses world, alongside their own. This goes for anyone who is able to take on someone elses hurt, and love, and past and future - to anyone who can devote themselves and their lives to sharing it with somebody else. I am only now, after 23 years in this world, understanding what a relationship truly is and the comitment it entails. I think I had led myself to believe that I knew all there was to know because I am a mother and that is the greatest relationship one could have, right? Not exactly - don't get me wrong, it is by-far the most amazing... but it is a special type of relationship. It is one that is formed instantly and unconditionally - without thought or questioning. There is no choice on who this person will be, or what they may look like - they just are your children, and it's as simple as that. An adult relationship has so many more complications and intricacies. There is choice, and rights and wrongs - there are components that will encase you, sometimes erase you. It is definitely, without a doubt, a devotion - a comitment of one's self, mind, body and soul. It is a lot of things, I suppose... but there is a lot to be said, about those who choose it and stick with it.

clear my thoughts, eat my brain.

I am my own worst enemy. I hate you for knowing it - and making me face it. In fact I hate you so much that I love you for it. Thank you for showing me the ups and downs I'd rather ignore - for making me face my fears - and for fighting for the right to stand up for what you want. I know I'm hard to take, I'm even harder to hold - but I'm worth it, I swear. Distance makes the heart grow stronger, some people say - I don't know if I agree about the strong part, but it definitely does something. I miss you, and I love you and 6 days feels way too long - but I know it will go by quickly and soon enough, there you'll be.

back to my roots

There is no cure to a glum mood than family who loves you. There was no short supply of that yesterday as I was greeted, embraced and showered with love and appreciation at my aunt and uncle's home where my extended family had gathered to visit with the girls and I. Humbled by the love that is filled to the brim of all those lovely people, I revelled in the beauty that is. You can't choose family, so it makes me feel all the luckier to be born into such a big gracious and accepting family. It doesn't matter how long it's been since we last saw eachother - it's always like no time has passed, and we spend the time we get catching up and soaking in the presence of eachother. I know I should be here, all the time - it shouldn't be a vacation to come see these wonderful people I have in my life. I just can't seem to make myself get up and leave - can't make my feet move. It feels like I have been trying to uproot myself for years now (and really, I have been). Maybe soon - maybe it's time.

I could really use a wish right now

I can't stand under the pressure, I can feel my knee's buckle and my heart is sore. I wish I could understand the yearning that takes over me when we're apart. Maybe if I could understand, I could get a grip hold on the emotions that take over my rational knowing. I fall asleep sadly, and wake up in the same mannor - and I know this is too long. I'll blame it on the hormone's for now, as it's all I've got. I dream about you too - which is really the icing on the cake. Not only can I not escape your lingering presence during the day - but you follow me into sleep as well and haunt me while I "rest". You'd think it had been week's at this point, even months - but no, just merely 5 day and I am uncontrollably weeping speratically throughout the day. This is proving to be very difficult as I try very hard not to weep infront of the girls - however, Emma is very understanding of how much I miss you. She found me yesterday, and hugged me and said "I miss Daddy a lot too - but it's okay, we're going to see him soon!" Alas, it is a temporary relif - and I will do my best to concentrate on all the good thing's that every day brings for us until we come home again. I do apologize, to anyone who follows my ramblings - but the next week and a half are likely to all be the same posts :)

oooh baby what're you doin to me?

It feels like this weight has been put on my chest - almost like a constant pressure. It all feels too familiar, and then I remember... it was a year ago exactly I subjected myself to being away from you for more than a few days at a time. It sweeps over me like tidal waves, and I can hear myself saying "I will never be away from you for that long again!" Here I am though, away from you... and missing you like a child misses their mother. It honestly hurts, like an ache I can't mute. I am sick to my stomach and I feel like the only remedy is to have you close to me - hear your voice, kiss your face. It's like I'm a lovesick teenager - and I wonder how long it's going to last(likely until I get off that plane and wrap my arms around you too tightly!)I want to enjoy this vacation as it's very likely the last one of it's kind (no way I am road tripping with three YOUNG children..) and for the most part I am enjoying - but I feel this hold on me, like it would be so much better if you were here to enjoy it with us. You should be, I know that.. but wishing won't get me what I want. I'll just have to wait it out, be patient - and reap the sweet rewards of having you next to me... in 11 sleeps. God, that feels awfully long.

nothing to say.

Pulled. two different directions, with two different outcomes. I hate not knowing the answer.. the outcome. This is why I can't relax - this is why I can't not seek control over things that have no controller. I am required to make decisions all day, every day - and this one is too hard. This is one that makes me want to throw up my hands in the air and scream... scream at the top of my lungs until my face is blue, and then surrender to the fall. I don't know which way to go, I don't know who to answer too - I'm at a loss. This time, with nothing to say...

haunting

I woke to blood everywhere, and as fear and panic set in - the waves came upon me and I could not breathe. I was captivated by the red covered sheets, red covered thighs and it all happened so fast and felt so real. I could smell the blood, I could feel it's sticky substance all over my tender body. I watched it flow, and cried {sobbed} for what felt like hours. I was then rushed, to walk to the hospital - and I can remember the feeling of absurdity to the process. Why are we going anywhere? Why am I going to expose this vulnerable state of my body to anyone else? and why am I walking? I kept asking questions, as we walked, as I was covered in blood - but no one answered them. It seemed to go on forever, and finally an ambulance came and strapped me in and the women told me to stop crying. "It happens, it isn't something to be upset over - you can always try again" she has said. Nobody had faces either, but I could hear them talking to me. Then, as quickly as it happened, I woke up from the horror and checked my bed and my sheets and in between my legs - and it was dry, and my belly was still full and everything was fine. Everything was fine.

If dreams were lighting, thunder was desire

It takes a storm for the skies to clear, for a rainbow to come. Sometimes you have to put up with the rain and the clouds and the stuck-inside days just to get the sun again, to see the bright color's in the sky. Compromise and sacrifice are part of life, especially a life shared with various other people. It's also about understanding and compassion - and it is a complicated dance to balance it all, but when you have the right dancing partner it always just falls into place (even if you do step on each others toe's from to time!)I'm still learning, and despite everything I think I know - I really know nothing. I take in what I can, retain what's important - and do my best to keep up the pace. That's life though, time is always escaping - life is always happening. You have your whole life to do something, and that's not very long. Take each moment as it comes, regret nothing, and live in the now. You'll miss all the good stuff, if you keep worrying about yesterday and tomorrow. Nothing has taught this better to me than parenthood - go with it, cause your not getting out alive anyways.

let her cry

Crying: the newest hobby I have taken up. It can happen with no notice or warning, and seem abrupt and unnecessary. It can last for a moment or two - or for hours on end. Sometimes I can laugh it off, sometimes I need to just let it flow through me and really feel it. Sometimes I know why I'm doing it - sometimes I have no idea what the tears are for, but I'm going with it anyways. It's not something I'm particularly a fan of, but I just don't have much of a choice when hormones are pumping through my body at 10x the regular rate. To someone watching the obstruction of a Katie they once knew - these changes may seem absurd and irregular... to me, it's just my pregnant self (to which I have become very accustomed) taking over my mind, body and sanity. I do apologize in advance, for the pain you will endure due to the lack of control over my emotions. I fully acknowledge that, although I am hormonally imbalanced, I am still responsible for my actions - I just feel it fair to forewarn anyone who has to come in contact with me on one of my "off" days lol

I won't try and control fate.

I feel the need to express this - and I can't find anywhere to go with it other than here, in which my feelings and opinions on it won't be criticized and put up for debate. I can not and will not come to terms with infant mutilation, for the purpose of chance. We have done so many studies, so much research - and when it comes down to it, reality outweighs the possibility. I understand the fear of unknown, and I can respect that everyone has their own opinion on circumcision (and rightfully so, as this is a free country and I expect people to think for themselves.) But when we are no longer thinking for ourselves, but merely basing our decisions for our children on what could possibly happen in the future - I can't help but feel like something is completely ass backwards. To start with, it is a procedure done to an infant - who has just come from a cradle of dark warmth for the first 9 months of its existence... and the first thing we are going to do to him is strap him down to a board, freeze his body and cut him up? I feel like that is undoubtedly going to do some scary fucking shit to your head. I've heard the argument time and time again - "we don't remember infancy" but there's probably a reason for that! It's bloody traumatic... we probably sensor it out, or repress the memory. So why would I add to that trauma? There are countless debates as to why a male infant should be circumsized... none of which add up to the result of doing a major unnecessary medical procedure to my newborn child (in case anyone's forgotten - I'm a natural birthing, co-sleeping, breastfeeding, baby wearing kind of momma... who wont even take tylenol during pregnancy for fear of the damage to my unborn child) Here are a few:

#1) Cleanliness - male's are BORN with that skin for a reason. Just as we are born with eye lids, and ear lobes, and vulva's and butt cheeks and lips. Our bodies are designed (by science, or who ever you believe is designing us) to function. I can not convince myself that we have extra skin on us anywhere that would cause us to be unclean. And even in that case, it's not hard to teach a child to cleanse themselves - have you ever tried wiping a bloody vagina? It can and will be done.

#2) Religious purposes: well, you're all nuts. I can't understand religion period, let alone cutting my child's skin off because a man in the clouds screwed up and thinks you should correct his mistake? I'm actually completely ignorant towards this reasoning - I don't know what religions say you should, or why. I just know it sounds silly to me.

#3) AIDS/HIV prevention: This is the only one that you can almost find my sympathy for. Yes, it definitely did help a little when AIDS and HIV were rampant. It definitely did save a lot of lives... a LONG time ago. If there is one thing us as society are proud of, it is how far we have come scientifically and medically. We would not brand it as an unnecessary procedure just because they thought "oh hey, look - stat's are down, we're in the clear". It was proven that in this day and age, it has no links attached. And even then, this is basing a very serious decision on possibility - on chance. How can we pretend to have the power of fate in our hands? You can not prevent something like that happening - it is not possible. We can teach our children about safe sex, and discourage them from using drugs and inform them about the risks and dangers involved. But how for a second can we pretend like that is something we can prevent for our children?

After 5 short years of parenting, the one thing I have learned is that 95% of the time what happens is out of my control. I may not give up this control easily - but I am aware that despite my best and constant efforts - there is really not a lot I can do when it comes to what my children will face in life. So saying that I should mutilate my child's already perfect body for the sake of consequence just does not add up to me. I can not make myself believe that it is something right or just for me to do - that is a decision my child should make on their own.

That is my rant, and I hope you do not feel the need to be offended. This are merely my feelings on it, and I am only placing them here to vent out my frustration on the topic.

layers like an onion.

"I search your profile for a translation, I study the conversation like a map - cause' I know there is strength in the differences between us, and I know there is comfort where we overlap."

I am still learning to prepare myself for the dips and turns and ups and downs of the road I am on. Unfortunately, I am still not very good at preparation and I have a very weak stomach these days. I would like to know what's ahead of me, have some kind of overlay map to go by when I start on the journey every morning - but much to my dismay, this is a hot commodity... and I am yet to have any clue. However, I am still smiling - dirt on my face, cuts on my knees.. pushing onward. That's something you get good at when you have no balance (with all the falling) you learn to get up, dust off... keep going. I don't have time, or patience to stay angry - I let it surge through me, feel it to the fullest, process whatever it is and move on. The problem, or issue or whatever it is may be unsolved - but I do not need to continue to feel anger and hatred. Breathe in through your nose, let it seep through every pore - and out through my mouth. Alas, another hill is waiting - and surely, another few scrapes and tears.

intentionally bad at lieing

I often find myself wondering where my insecurity comes from. No matter how many times I trace my steps backwards, relive every moment and try and put the pieces together - I am still left feeling like there is no reason for it. I've got a great family, who loves an supports me no matter how many times I change my mind. I've got wonderful friends - who, despite my quarks and craziness, have my back regardless. I have two amazing daughters - who remind me on a daily basis how lucky I am to be alive, raising them, being their mother. I've also got an inspiring, loving and courageous partner - who can stand up to me, and stand behind me, and just stand me period. All these people, all the love and encouragement - and I am still left feeling like I'm not worth it. Most steps I take feel like I'm going in the wrong direction, most decisions feel like a mistake - why can't I have confidence in my strides and not constantly rethink my steps? I would like to drop my nervous laugh, and stop regretting the awkward things I say. Wear it all out, it's the only way I'm going to find some peace with it.

biggering and biggering until you burst

Tiptoeing as if to not disturb the rubble. I find myself laying in the heaps and mounds of garbage I have piled - I look peaceful. I wander around, inspecting every single corner of the mess and let it encase me. I find myself wondering how it all got there, how did so much accumulate within such a short period of time? Surely, I just cleaned it all up not too long ago? Now I'm standing here, watching myself laying, defeated and exhausted - and I am unable to talk myself into getting up. I just want me to get up and wander around with me ... help me explore, exploit, explain. I won't be able to do it without me - there are parts I don't understand - aspects of the rubble I can't possibly comprehend without me telling the story behind it. It would be so much simpler if we could just join forces and not have to face the separateness of who we each are. We are both entitled I suppose, to being separate - but it would make this so much simpler. I am reaching inside helplessly .. begging for a lending hand, at this point. I've given up dignity and self-respect just so I will get up, just to make me interested in the ongoing tasks at hand. It's almost like standing in a mirror - inspecting, picking apart ... but the reflection shifts when you do not, and then it's like looking through a window. What else can I do but lay down next to me, and wait for will power to resume within me - wait for me to get back up again and start cleaning this mess?

heart in hand, feet on groun, facing forward - be yourself.

There isn't a night where I don't lay in bed at the end of the day thinking what I could have done differently, better, more productively. I let guilt slip into my comfort zone and eat me alive - telling me how I should have calmed myself down before punishing Emma, or I should have got up to do the extra project or craft or game with the girls... I should have been in a better mood, been more active in our day, watched my mouth closer than I had. I honestly used to think that I was alone with that feeling and that I must be a horrible mother. It took me a few years into the game before I realized that it is very hard for any mother to ever feel like they are good enough all the time. We are all wandering around doing everything we know how to raise our children to the best of our ability - wanting to do better, accomplish more. In the end I don't want my children to remember me cleaning the house or doing the dishes or hanging up laundry or cooking while they played - I want them to think back to childhood and remember all the fun things we did. I want them to remember me saying "yes, I'd love too" when prompted to play yet another round of candy land. I want them to envision me when they are adults as a mom who liked to help, to encourage, to inspire and to create. This is where the guilt takes center stage - because I don't always say "yes please!" and I'm not always quick to build a fort and play dress up. Sometimes, I get caught up in the usual day-to-day routines and encourage them to play on their own. Sometimes, I don't feel like being super mom and just want to stay in bed and watch movies all day. So I have to accept, that they might have some random memories of me being a bummer - of me "needing" to do laundry instead of participating in the marching band making it's way through our living room. All I can do is remind myself I am doing the best job I can - and that I must be doing something right... because I have managed to create two incredibly independent, strong-willed, creative, imaginative, smart and endearing daughters.

not a pretty girl

"Everyone has a skeleton, and a closet to keep it in. Every song has a you, a you that the singer sings to - and your it this time"

I would learn to sing well, just to take up space in the world of noise. To get my point across, to say my peace - to scream at the top of my lungs with music. I would walk a hundred miles, without rest - just to find what I'm after. I just want to find whatever it is that I need to make peace, to get a resolution, to come to a happy medium. I will walk and walk and walk - run, jog, stumble. I will do what has to be done - always. I'd like to dance, to shake out the demon's and let out the pain - or the happiness and joy. I just want to make movement, whether it be verbally, emotionally, or physically. I would like to learn how to do almost anything, just to try it. There isn't much at this point that will stop me in my tracks - not much that will distress me to the point of needing to be rescued. I believe in my heart that we change every day - there is always change happening, we are always morphing into the people we are aiming to be. Sometimes we aren't aiming at all, and we end up getting so lost in all the changes - we don't even know who we are or how we changed so much. It take's a lot of searching sometimes, a lot of examining - some heavy-duty back-of-the-closet investigation to know who we are, and how we got here, and where we are going. I don't want to know where I'm going anymore, I want to live day-to-day and enjoy every moment as it comes. Maybe that's why I don't know how I got here.

you got a fast car, but is it fast enough so you can fly away?

I felt my heart crush for the pain you are suffering - felt the sting in my uterus for the emptiness you feel. I remember it so clearly, and the feeling of failure that followed me everywhere I went. I want to take it from you, capture your pain and your hurt and let you feel free again. I want to switch places, take on your suffering and have your womb be full like mine. I want to hug you for hours, and let you cry - breathe it out. I am so scared for you, so alone for you - and it doesn't help at all. You have to suffer, you have to carry the weight and feel what your feeling. It was supposed to happen this way, I feel that somewhere deep - it happened for a reason greater than I can explain to you in words. I know this will make you stronger, not knock you down or defeat you. I know that you will move on with grace, as you do with everything that comes your way. You are a force - an incredible women who has astounded me with strength and courage at every turn. I find a comfort in knowing that you will keep moving, and I hope you know that I am behind you every step of the way. It tears you away from who you are temporarily - but you will find your stride again soon. It left me feeling guilty - who am I to carry child, when someone who wants it so badly lost it's way? Not to say I don't want this, but I know how much you do - how much you yearn for that step in your life. I feel a sense of anger... why did it happen to you, and not to me? Why do I get to carry on and bask in all that it is - while you sit and bleed and cry? It doesn't seem fair, doesn't feel right. But who am I? I don't get to decide these kinds of things - it all happens for a reason. Bad things happen, to make room for the good things to come.

you can't choose a sister, your just lucky to have her

I woke up feeling hollow - like a piece of me had been left somewhere by mistake. It wasn't pleasant, and I felt the need to find the missing piece. I'm sure it's around here somewhere and I'm confident I will stumble across it eventually - it's just a question of when and where, I suppose. Emma is telling me she has found a constellation - it's in my room and her and Sophie and floating around in it. I'm not sure she really gets what a constellation is, but the idea of them floating around in one makes me smile big. Sophie has taken to the game of preparing and serving "food" to Emma and I. What imaginations these two humans have - such wonder in all that they do, such intensity. I can honestly sit here and just watch them - bask in all that they are and appreciate the time I have chosen to raise them. Now Emma is trying to convince Sophie into hiding under my thick and hot duvet and pretend it's bed time - I don't think Em understands how much Sophie dreads this point in the day. She's off to fetch Sophie's comforts (kitty and her blanket) for her though, so I suppose Sophie is obliging to Emma's demands. What an amazing thing a sister is - a life-long, built-in, forever-and-a-day best friend. Speaking of sisters - mine is on her way to give me a hand with Mondays demands. Again, what an amazing thing a sister is!

broked.

I have come to the end of a very huge chapter of my life. I have learned some amazing lessons, some hurtful ones, and some hard ones. I have never had such a hard time closing the doors of my past like I have this time, and it's been a long time coming - I know. We tried, or I tried - and every time it just came up short. I hate walking away without some sort of closure but I know that nothing more can come, this is the end. As for what's next? Something new, something real - people who love me the way I love. People who respect me, and can look past what they have been taught is right and wrong. I need better, deserve it in fact - and I'll get it. So many people have gone, left in the rubble of my past - and this time I just didn't want to let go. I didn't want to admit that it wasn't real, that I didn't have the same commitment back from them as I gave. People who are supposed to have my back, keep me safe - stand up for me... and I watch them fall, and turn away. It's all part of life, people come and go - I just wish there was a break between the heart break. Wish there was some calm between the storms. I know I'll be fine, I know I'm better off - that doesn't make it any easier though. I guess this is why they call it breaking.

well that sun just got brighter, I'm sure.

Good things always come to those who wait. I knew things would look up, turn themselves around and make life easier on us. We've come way to far to keep struggling - and I'm so thankful things can finally get a little simpler for us. So proud of you :) Thank you for taking care of us, and doing everything in your power to provide for your family. It feels amazing to loose that weight - and take a breath of fresh air. Here's to a happy beginning to our new adventure! Cheers

not backing down either.

There are certain words, certain phrases - that are associated with a horrible time in my life. Words which represent someone I was, someone I grew out of and buried and left behind happily. When those phrases and words are brought up as ammunition and are claimed to be expressions of feelings - I am left feeling like a person I no longer am. I have explained, time and time again what damage that does and how I react when I am forced to be spotlighted as someone I am not. I have done nothing since my past was buried to warrant those phrases and words to be thrown in my face like yesterdays trash. I do deserve better than that, and I will won't back down from my standpoint with that. The communication, the different tactics and the explanations are all bang on - and I would not ever dream of asking that to stop, there has been some incredible progress where that is concerned. It's the anger, and the names, and the words used - that leave this horrible taste in my mouth... that leave me feeling like there is no respect for me, who I've become, and the person I maintain to be. If that can't be understood, then I can't tell you where I stand. I just know in my heart, it's too much - and I'm not willing to compromise my feelings about it because you can't stop.

There is this needy 2 year old inside of me that is begging for attention. She wants to be cuddled, fed, pampered, bathed and put to sleep in a warm safe place. She is so nagging, so needy - she really quite bother's me actually. I try not to give into her too often, but sometimes that's all I need... someone to take care of me. I spend my days (and most of my nights) tending, taking care of others, preparing, tidying... sometimes all little 2 year old Katie needs is someone else to take the reigns and take care of ME. I hate feeling needy, and I especially hate relying on anyone else for that... I just don't know how to voice it. I get so lost in my own naive insecurity when it comes to asking for anything.. and I still haven't sniffed out an effective coping mechanism for it. Live and learn, so they say.

we're waiting for you

I'm still in the processing stages of the next great adventure in my life. It feels like forever away, but I know it will sneak up quickly - as time always seems to do. If there is nothing else I've learned by this point, I have learned that the only way to get through this life is to roll with the punches. As much as everyone would like us to say "oh yes, we planned this" I can't, won't - and don't care too. I have given up on planning my life around someone elses ideals, or setting expectations for myself that are impossible to attain. I'm learning to find comfort in my own rituals and decisions, instead of holding a cloud over my head because it doesn't match what somebody else might think is right or just. This next chapter of our lives is going to be a challenge, without a doubt - but it does not mean we will not flourish. Like anything in this life we will be met with obstacles and barriers - but like I have proven time and time again, we will conquer all. 9 weeks down, 31 weeks to go.

and away we go

The feeling of being wrapped inside you is a comfort I have never found before. There is a security there, that nothing else provides me with - a warmth, protection, happiness. I would always wake with a smile if every night we could fall asleep that way - legs entangled, arms folded in between one another and belly to belly. I just lay there, following the rhythm of your breathing and let it softly lull me to where ever you already are. I dream of you almost nightly, and there is something so surreal about waking up tangled into someone you were just visiting in your dreams. It's almost not real for the first few moments as I sleepily open my eyes and adjust to my surroundings. There you are, in the flesh - warm mouth awaiting my kiss, soft hands up against my belly. There is nothing sweeter than waking up beside you and holding you close. It gives me a faith in the future that I can't seem to find anywhere else. I feel swollen, and unnerved - but anxiously excited and beautiful all at the same time. We are so unbelievably crazy, sometimes it astounds me - but mostly I just love it.

nobody sings it like you

"Hour Follows Hour"

hour follows hour
like water follows water
everything is governed by the rule
of one thing leads to another
you can't really place blame
cuz blame is much to messy
some was bound to get on you
while you were tryin to put it on me
and don't fool yourself
into thinking things are simple
nobody's lying still the stories don't line up
why do you try to hold on
to what you'll never get a hold on
you wouldn't try to put the ocean
in a paper cup
cuz i have had something to prove
as long as i know theres something
that needs improvment
and you know that every time i move
i make a woman's movement
and first you decide
what you've gotta do
then you go out and do it
and maybe the most we can do
is just to see each other through it
hour follows hour like water in a river
and from one to the next
we don't know what each hour will deliver
we just call it like we see it
call it out loud as we can
and then afterwards we call it all water over the dam
maybe the moral higher ground
ain't as high as it seems
maybe we are both good people
who've done some bad things
i just hope it was okay
i know it wasn't perfect
i hope in the end we can laugh
and say it was all worth it
cuz i have had something to prove
as long as i know something
that something needs improvement
and you know that everytime i move
i make a woman's movement
and first you decide what you've gotta do
then you go out and do it
and maybe the most that we can do
is just to see each other through it
we make our own gravity to give weight to things
then things fall and they break and gravity sings
we can only hold so much is what i figure
try and keep our eye on the big picture
picture keeps getting bigger
and too much is how i love you
but too well is how i know you
and ive got nothing to prove this time
just something to show you
i guess i just wanted you to see
that it was all worth it to me


I think this song sums it up for me, I don't know what else to say. I'm really disappointed, and I'm still really angry. That's not going to change for a while, because it's just not that easy this time.

the common misconception.

Throughout life, we experience a lot of change. Every year we get older, and getting older comes with different responsibilities and different routines. As time passes on new people come and old people leave, and with the coming and going you change alongside it. You learn things about you and about the people coming and going and every person will teach you something, if you let them. What I've always had a hard time with is accepting that it isn't always under my control how my perception and routines and ideas will be warped and formed. When I start to see a problem, or a problem is presented to me about my communication or my opinions or my strategies, it is a natural defense for me to run/hide/fight. I know how destructive this is, and it takes only one time of it being pointed out to me for me to get back on the path of getting out of those habits. However, there needs to be understanding that it is a habit and a habit is something I have to take time to break. I am listening, I am trying, I am understanding - and I am always learning. I am constantly trying to find new ways to go about something that is ongoing, and can't seem to be solved. The biggest problem is that when the new strategies are met with the same reactions I fall back into my regular habits, as you have expressed is mutual. It all takes time, it all takes patience - hang in there with me, we are in for one great adventure.

Miss Sophie Isabel is TWO!

I can still remember as if it just happened yesterday - 2 years ago down to the hour, my water broke and I was convinced it was just pee. I can remember how anxious I began to feel, how nervous I was to go through labor again. It was a whole new feeling in comparison to my labor with Emma, but I knew that it would be going into this journey. I can remember feeling like it wasn't really happening - but as every contraction came the reality became clearer. I felt scared and I felt excited as I ventured closer and closer to our first meeting. I fell deep into birthing land and it was dark, but soft - and I was able to concentrate on what my body needed me to do. I had done this before, my body knew what to expect and it did so gracefully. From water break to birth it took 12 hours and 43 minutes.. it felt like a lot longer. I remember holding her for the first time, pulling her little body warm and wet onto my chest and embracing this new little human into my world. She was so sweet, so alert and ready to face the world. Two years, and here I am again wondering where the time has gone - how are we already here? So despite my ignorance towards the way time continues on regardless if I am paying attention or not - happy birth day to my wonderful, adventurous, daring, brave, intelligent, beautiful, energetic little Sophie Isabel. I love you more and more every day - thank you for teaching me everything I know about mothering two little girls. Thank you for guiding your sister into 'big sister hood' and for showing your dad the ropes of having a toddler. We cherish every moment spent with you, you are a force to be reckoned with that holds such power in her smile. We love you baby girl xoxo