Things were a little busy last week – we spent a lot of time with new friends, helped build a really cool barn style chicken coop (ours is going up next!), had a lovely day in the country (Ethan skinny dipped for the first time!), had my first Arkansas tick experience (ew!), then went immediately into prep for Chris’ big spanish style birthday shindig. We made 20 pounds of pulled pork, slow cooked for 2 days in a crock pot with lots and lots of garlic, limes and adobo. We had about 4 gallons of slow cooked black beans and rice, along with a big beautiful salad, fresh bread, lots of plaintains and even mofongo! The event was a great excuse to spend time with family and food!

Here’s some pictures of the event and other happenings this week (along with some fun pics of my dreads, now 3 months old )

So speaking of family, festivals, and food: This is the title of one of my very favorite books. I picked it up when Ethan was about 2 years old and began to gravitate right away to what I learned about Waldorf celebrations. Lately I’ve been reading more and more books and listening to training workshops, all in preparation for something I have yet to tell you guys about but when I do I’ll be so happy to share with you all!

So, today was a rough day. I am fighting a cold, Chris and I are both very tired, Ethan and Verity are both incredibly high needs and the noise level is constant! Not to mention that I have lots and lots of work to make up and I highly doubt I will finish it all. With sore throat and ears ringing, I felt impatient and unnerved today – two things I really don’t like about myself, I must admit. I remember seeing this video recently of a Waldorf home-based educator who said that when she notices the energy of the children getting really rowdy, she first checks her own breathing. That came to mind today, as I strove to check myself as a potential contributor to the wild pent-up rainy day boredom energy of the kids.

So instead of raising my voice for the umpteenth time (working on it!), I told Ethan to be still and silent as much as he could while Chris took Verity off on a drive to fall asleep. While this was happening I made a pot of “Quiet Child” tea from Mountain Rose Herbs and the “Best Oatmeal Cookies” from that well-loved go-to book: Family, Festivals, and Food!

What you can’t experience over this screen is just how tasty and warm these simple little things are. Things are feeling cozier and quieter already…

Well, if you’d like to try them, leave a comment about something you use to help ground yourself or the kids on an everything-is-going-wrong kinda day. Next week, I’ll pick a winner randomly and mail you my extra copy of this book! In it you will find seasonal activities, recipes, verses and songs, and stories for your family to celebrate the year.

My intention: to release. When my palms are aching from holding too tight, and my neck is sore from the tension of the load – put it down, drop the line, just release it all.

The expectations. The fears. The anxiety. The selfishness. The opinions. The consumption. The pain. Just let it go.

Embrace, instead, the reality of true freedom to Just Be. The reality of Love Incarnate.

Here are some pictures from this week:

A discarded robin’s egg found in the backyard reminds us: hippity, hoppity, Easter is on it’s way!

The office is very much a greenhouse at the moment. along with 42 heirloom tomato plants, we’ve got oodles of sprouts already from herbs, peppers, lettuce, melons, gourds, and more. Along with a huge assortment of sprouts from a tray Ethan plated all by himself for his flower garden: foxglove, sunflowers, columbine, california poppy, chinese lantern, money plant, marigolds, zinnia – the list goes on! It’s going to be so beautiful this summer!

Verity and I were on the news Saturday night! Talking about the farmers market (I was a total dweeb. I didn’t even realize this was for the local news, I said something like “good luck on your project!” to the young man as we parted ways- for some reason I thought he was a university student, lol! Then my landlord called to tell me it was good to see me on the 5 o’clock news! Ha…)

Finished Verity’s “pixie” easter bonnet

Ethan got a handmade easter basket at the farmer’s market. I admired the flowers, pottery, amazing bluegrass musicians, and handspun yarns. I purchased a huge local smoked ham (which a portion of is currently crocking for split pea soup dinner!)

My knitting and laptop are never safe from Verity’s curious little hands…

I’ve been spending ample time in the backyard, enjoying the new blooms while the kids play in their sandbox. We’ve been doing more garden bed prep, and have put up a nice clothes line set. Also found a $25 picnic table to put out there, above which is strung white christmas lights. Can’t wait for outdoor dining again!

It’s certainly getting green out there…

Easter baskets lined with sprouts (real grass!) holding hardboiled eggs, yogurt covered raisins and pretzels, a coconut bar, and a few gifts: a dragon bubble wand, beeswax modeling clay, and beeswax block crayons (for Ver), all courtesy of Bella Luna Toys. Ethan also got a “Milo” to play with his “Otis”, and a replacement “Scorch” for the one he lost and still couldn’t live without.

Ethan playing with new neighborhood friends: a sweet polish family who lives a few doors down who we bump into on our evening walks.

I guess that about does it!

Today: enjoy the release.

The creation of something new is not accomplished by the intellect but by the play instinct acting from inner necessity. The creative mind plays with the objects it loves.

Carl Jung (1875 – 1961)

42 heirloom tomato have sprouted!

I remember reading about Carl Jung in my Theories of Personality class in college; his contribution to the concept of individuation played an integral role in my development at that time. When I came across that reading, it struck me. Wiki defines this concept as “the process through which a person becomes his/her ‘true self’” and further explains Jung’s belief that “Individuation has a holistic healing effect on the person, both mentally and physically. Besides achieving physical and mental health, people who have advanced towards individuation tend to be harmonious, mature and responsible. They embody humane values such as freedom and justice and have a good understanding about the workings of human nature and the universe.”

Along these lines, it was notable for me to learn about Jung’s idea of artistic expression as a healing outlet; “art therapy”. He spoke of creative expression as a means to becoming whole.

Ideas that, for me, rang very true. Since as far back as I can remember my life, I have sought to express myself creatively. This doesn’t mean I was ever a master at a particular art form, no. But the countless drawings, books, and poems collected throughout my childhood reflect my desire to be constantly creating something.

Being a creative being is, I believe, at the very heart of being human. It is partaking in something divine – the way in which we were created in God’s image. We are compelled to be co-creators with Him, even when we are completely unaware of it.

There is a harmony I feel when I am creating. It doesn’t matter if I am painting, writing, decorating a room, gardening, tending animals, cooking a meal, laying out a flyer, designing a website project, knitting, sewing, singing, strumming an instrument, taking pictures, building a fairy house with the kids – the medium is not what is important. What is important is that what I am doing is tapping into that limitless part of me that constantly accepts the challenge of a new creation, despite the time, energy or frustration involved, simply because the activity makes me feel more alive. And having children – rearing a family – what more glorious display of our co-creating privilege can we find? I am in awe of this often.

Creating is a spiritual act – one I can feel more acutely when working with natural materials – and without it in my life I begin to get all backwards.

At times I chastise myself for not having a more practical work ethic. For not being able to clock in – clock out at a job, regardless of the ease or pointlessness of the daily tasks, for the sheer result of a paycheck. Believe it or not, I admire those with that ability. Even in the most dire pinch, such work feels like madness to me (this is not an exaggeration – I believe I literally begin to lose my mind!). Without some element of creating happening, I feel panicky, straight-jacketed, and desperate for distraction.

Our family is at a shift, (life is so full of those, isn’t it?) and I find myself drawn to make some changes in my work life and load. While I await the unfolding of Chris’ next path, as he looks for work here in Fayetteville, I know this is an opportunity to fine-tune and adjust many of my personal goals and our goals and values as a family.

As always, I want to work with great flexibility for the sake of being my children’s full-time caregiver. But as Ethan enters Kindergarten age as a homeschooler and Verity is a walking almost-toddler, I am finding the need to revamp my priority of them, much more so than in previous years. This is a very high-need phase of their lives, one that will be over in the blink of an eye, and this fact weighs on me every single day. I don’t want to miss out on their childhood because I was stuck behind a laptop or too tired from a late work night to engage life with them. It breaks my heart, actually.

This shift will entail getting creative (there is that word again!) about how I co-support our family financially, how we make and spend and save money, and what our priorities are. From getting more self-sustainable, to finding ways I can cut back my “laptop” hours in favor of more holistic, integrated work-from-home-mom ventures. I am so eager to share my ideas, but for now I will continue to work them out and see how things shape up over the rest of the Spring. In the meantime, I am trying to stay the course with various jobs that have begun to dry out creatively, as the economy forces more and more companies to budget down to the nitty gritty tasks with little room for initiatives and creative projects. Luckily, I have amazing colleagues which help make the grind worth it. And on the side, I am getting my “fix” for creative expression through hobbies, knitting Verity’s birthday sweater, taking a photography course (will be starting a separate photoblog soon!), starting a nature journal, pen and paper journaling (something I haven’t done in years and years), and dreaming of the day I’ll finally write that book.

So there ya go. My courageous share…

If you see elements of garbage in you, like fear, despair, and hatred, don’t panic. As a good organic gardener, a good practitioner, you can face this: “I recognize that there is garbage in me. I am going to transform this garbage into nourishing compost that can make love reappear.

…

When you sit at a cafe, with a lot of music in the background and a lot of projects in your head, you’re not really drinking your coffee or your tea. You’re drinking your projects, you’re drinking your worries. You are not real, and the coffee is not real either. Your tea and you coffee can only reveal itself to you as a reality when you go back to your self, and produce your true presence, freeing yourself from the past, the future, and from your worries. When you are real, the tea also becomes real and the encounter between you and the tea is real. This is genuine tea drinking.”

- Thich Nhat Hanh, “Anger”

Thich Nhat Hanh has been teaching me about mindfulness as a tool in embracing and balancing my anger. It’s certainly no surprise that I get angry sometimes, we all do. Self-care, aka “me time”, is so very hard to come by as a mom with young one’s, and that reality leaves me often drained and tired. It’s called being a mom, right? For the next two days I have about 20 projects on my to-do list, ranging from LOTS of work for 3 various clients and things I can’t continue to put off (like filing my taxes, writing so and so, calling that credit agency, UNPACKING MY SUITCASE from my move a month ago, finish painting the office, start the rest of the seeds, order my bulk foods and let others know about the new Fayetteville drop, find a futon so we don’t continue sleeping on the floor, finish a logo for dad, email my uncle, getting FOUR packages in the mail [first must finish the sewing on one of them]… should I go on???) Amidst all of these projects, I also have worries; trying to plan a trip to see some family in Louisiana, concern over a family member who is in a bad way right now, relationships that still need to be tended to and mended, and the ever-present fear that I’m not giving the kids the childhood they deserve…

But tonight is the only night of my entire week that the house is anything close to still. Chris is gone, Ethan is sleeping (sometimes so is Ver), and each week I find myself tapping into the things I truly love: I light candles, I have a bowl of homemade chicken broth, I read a little from my book, I knit for a few, I sip a glass of Pinot Noir, I hum as I wipe down counters, do dishes, hang clothes, so on. The house is quiet and smells like the sage bush that is burning. It is relatively clean and orderly, and I am in the present. What I do is present and mindful. My prayers are free and full of surrender.

I like Wednesday nights. Even if I have to work, I bask in the solitude and am grateful for the renewal.

The rest of the week is nothing like this; a sharp contrast, in fact. It is loud. We all too often find ourselves exhausted from pushing each other’s buttons, suffering as we punish each other with threats (i.e. “stop running in the house or you can’t have any blueberries!!!”: this threat happens with more animosity and more frequently than you can possibly imagine!), and making countless excuses as to why we can’t be present with each other or ourselves.

Moments of compromise, hugs, mediation and communication DO happen – a lot actually. Yes, my entire day is devoted to the kinks that are being “family”. Work and homemaking and marriage and motherhood are all integrated into one big goopy mess from the moment that I roll out of bed (or before, as Ethan is banging on my door, Chris is hinting that he might explode, Verity is nursing and wetting the sheets underneath me, and I lay there: OH MY GOD. THIS IS LIFE???) and this is before 7 am. Yes, work-at-home-motherdom in all its pros and cons. Or am I focusing on the cons for the moment? Forgive me.

This is why the hour I have to myself for the ENTIRE WEEK is so savory to me. Some people get this solitude 99% of their daily lives or in the very least while in their daily commute in the car — but maybe that keeps some of them inflexible and unadaptable to life’s chaos and inconveniences. I am grateful for the character building, challenging tight rope that is full time motherhood, for those reasons. But every one needs the silence, the reflection, the mindful energy. That is how we stay balanced and tap into the parts of ourselves that are centered and steady.

My prayer is that I can bring about the inner-peace and calm of this one hour through out my week, in the midst of work and house projects and life with 3 other full-time family members. The husband just walked in the door five minutes ago and already the home is filled with needs, ideas, and chatter. The bubble is burst

And so, goodbye.

Wait just a minute – THIS is the first day of Spring?

It pains me to say it, because the saying has been told to me so many times in the last month that I’m getting downright sick of it, but it appears to be accurate: “If you don’t like the weather in Arkansas, just wait ten minutes — It’ll change!”

Yesterday I was in a strapless tank toasting up my shoulders in the front yard. Today I am bundled in a wool blanket with a raw milk steamer on my couch watching movies while it snows outside! As I type there appears to be 2-3 inches already…

Life has never been what I have expected, not in the least what I expected of motherhood. My ideas and values have shifted so drastically from when I first entered motherhood until now that I sometimes wonder who I even was back then. My thoughts on what I could control, how much I could accomplish, and how successful I would be have not only changed, they’ve been thrown out completely! While I struggle daily with my own limitations, something nothing but the grueling and relentless work of motherhood would have been able to dredge out of me, I feel at once that I am journeying towards an acceptance of my inner self – as well as my outer.

As a busy mom, stealing a few moments in the mirror is rare. I put a little make up on about once per week and try to do about ten minutes of hair removal a week too, but that’s about it. The rest is quick showers and brief Sun Salutations, and small prayers that simply eating nourishing foods will keep me healthy while I put my appearance in God’s hands!

It’s occurred to me lately that I am, as they say, my own worst critic. I caught my self talk this week and it surprised me at how negative I am. Deep down, I feel on many levels that I sacrificed my youth for my children. I lost my pre-baby body at 20 years old, and ever since I wonder how I got to be so OLD. I’ve pulled so many late nights working and 4 hour sleeping shifts interrupted by nursing in the last 5 years that I can feel the effects of my poor self care on my entire system. To say I know fatigue would be an understatement – and not just from poor sleeping but from the daily life lived with young children. Yes, they want something ALL. THE. TIME. Yes, it’s takes every fiber of my being sometimes to truly listen to the “jibber jabber”, or to hold my heart in peace when every bit of me is frustrated at the irrational and immature reasoning of a 4 year old. To keep the daily meditations close at hand, ones that remind me of how beautiful my children are, how fortunate I am to be their mother. I also have to remind myself about my own boundaries with the kids – to realize that I can lovingly distance myself when I have reached my limits- that to martyr myself for their every whim is not going to do any one any good – not to mention my sanity.

Every mom wants to be a good mom. We all have different visions of what this archetype looks like, but who ever She is, we strive to be her and often chastise ourselves when we fall short. It takes concerted effort and mindfulness for me to let that vision be a positive self-image – to see it as a mirror of my own self, and to accept that Good along with my Bad (all those hits and misses are a balance). When I fail, ( and believe me, I DO. Just about every tired, cranky morning when I raise my voice or get impatient or sulk or cry or blame or go a wee bit loco!), I am learning that I need to step back and accept what is.

I don’t always have a lot of energy, or creativity, or patience, but God knows what I need and He knows what the kids and Chris need. He knows what kinds of models, experiences, and knowledge we still lack. It’s comforting to me to realize that amidst my own failures, God can work the greatest miracles. And as far as that negative self-talk, well, I need to work on that. My body may be ridden with premature stretch marks, gray hair, wrinkles, and a small but ever increasing double chin, but it has never failed me. It has been strong; has carried, birthed, and nursed two very healthy babies. Maybe in those ways, I have sacrificed my youth for the kids, but whether that is a good thing or a bad thing is only a matter of changing my perspective I mean, really, is there a more noble thing to sacrifice youth and beauty for??? And anyway, some parts of me have grown way more beautiful BECAUSE of my children.

The snowflakes outside continue to fall on my Spring solstice, and my rosy cheeked, robust daughter sleeps on the window bench in total peace. She is officially walking this week, by the way, which is quite a treat. I can tell she is going to be such a vibrant, strong woman.

Well, here’s to acceptance, beauty, and balance. To motherhood, in all it’s unexpected exposures…

It’s no secret that one of my biggest struggles is getting ahead of myself. I worry about the future, I worry and that spurs me to ACT NOW. One of the sayings I keep remember lately is the opposite of the common saying “Don’t just sit there, DO something.” Rather, for people like me, we need to learn to “Don’t just DO something – SIT THERE!”
There are so many variables and things I could be concerned about – that all of us could find to be concerned about. But it doesn’t add one day to our lives, does it? What a hard lesson to learn.
Lately I’ve felt extraordinarily tired and restless at the same time, but today I made a decision to take care of myself for a few hours and that has allowed me to emerge back into my life with a little more energy and perspective. I am so grateful for this and I feel almost elated as the day progresses with a new sense of present moment contentment.
Chris has almost finished our “Mystery Purple” porch railings and swing, along with a long window box on the other side of the front of the house (you guess it, “Mystery Purple” as well). The daffodils have emerged with their fierce yellow, declaring what the Sun has been trying to tell us for weeks: Seasons Change!
We hung a bird feeder yesterday just a few feet from our window bench and have enjoyed bird watching with our guide book open. So far nothing too crazy – a Chicadee, Robin, and bright red Cardinal are our most frequent guests. While driving in the country yesterday, however, Chris and I watched a Purple Martin fly across us and it was so magical. I had never seen that shiny purple bird before – almost like a flash of silk gliding through the air in front of us. Beautiful.
Tonight marks one week in our new home and things are going really well. The house smells like food. It’s warm. It’s home.
We spend a lot of time in the front yard, on blankets with cards and boardgames and buckets of sand and seashells. We’ll have two types of tree swings out there by the week’s end. These are the neat things that happen when you stay off the computer and TV during the day!
We’ve hung our clothes lines in the back and will start putting together the raised beds this weekend. We’ll be getting 4 chicks this weekend as well, and I can’t wait to get an Americauna or two so that our backyard eggs basket is sprinkled with those sweet easter blue eggs.
The church we’ve been attending is having an urban “grow your own food” meeting on Saturday, so I’m going to take that first step in reaching out and participating. I’ve also found some great resources lately – some free aged horse manure for my veg beds, raw milk on the “down low” for only $3 a gallon, a Weston A. Price local chapter, and frozen organic, pastured chickens from the monastery for just 3.75/lb. I hear I can get even lower than that if I buy 7 at a time, but I’ll need to wait on my freezer chest for that kind of commitment
Anyway… this day was a blessing to me. When I step back and go easier on myself, I realize just how well we are doing and how we have more than we need FOR TODAY. Delicious meals, wonderful music, inspiring books, colorful flowers, fun and games, birds, serenity, a gracious God and of course, family and friends. What more could I possibly need?
My cup is overflowing.

My morning began by getting thrown up in my armpit by my 9 month old while I was still laying down in bed. A very full day of packing (like 6 straight hours) with two children under foot followed (after a quick shower to rid myself of armpit throw up) and ended with a visit to a beautiful friend and her beautiful new baby, and then my last hour with my counselor in Portland. I am finally sitting down to relax with tea nearby at almost 10pm. Of course, now I “clock in” for work… and what happens? Verity comes over and plants a good sized spit up on the same shoulder she nailed this morning. Life!

I can’t believe it took me about 200 pounds worth of boxes to pack up Ethan’s books alone. I don’t even want to know how many more boxes I’ll need for MY books! lol

Oh, and Chris sold the TV today (his baby – the 42″ he got for his graduation 3 years ago) and we have a lead on selling the car too (oh, yes, we got a ‘88 toyota wagon before realizing we were NOT driving to move so now we have to sell it 3 weeks later, lol)

More to share soon when time allows…

Enjoys long walks in the woods… gardens… long wood tables… a fireplace…

I’ve read almost THREE (well, really 4 but one is mostly pictures ) books in the last week or so, (I guess that’s what happens when my knitting is packed away? lol) and they’ve been so wonderful for my soul.

From Heaven on Earth; A Handbook for Parents of Young Children, I continue my journey through homeschooling and parenting my favorite little people in the whole world. Sometimes this book creates in me a feeling of, I don’t know, maybe discouragement. The daily life and home structure described seem so simple and yet so unattainable in a world of media, playdates, financial responsibilities, suburbs, etc. But it also gives me something to aspire to, and in the very least, ideas I can put into practice or tuck in my pocket. You never know when they’ll come in handy.

From Little House on a Small Planet, I have again gained inspiration and ideas. My thoughts have certainly been provoked by the idea of never borrowing on a loan you can’t pay back in 7 years (like a mortgage) or living with less square footage than you might *think* you need. Good stuff!

From Anger: Wisdom for Cooling the Flames, Thich Nhat Hanh has reminded me about vulnerability, being a peace-maker, restoring relationships. All very appropriate right now as I work out some relational tensions that weigh heavy on my heart. He also reiterates the need for practicing mindfulness, a long post I’d best save for another day.

And lastly, and perhaps my most fun read right now, is A Natural Sense of Wonder. I didn’t think I would love reading this book as much as I do, but its memoir-like account of a father who tries to reconnect his children with the natural world through the seasons is really well-written (he is an english teacher, after all) and charming.

I particularly liked reading about his “affairs” of home searching in his twenties, a tale he accounts as a metaphor for dating relationships. He moved a lot when the kids were young and he and his wife were working and finishing school – all over the country and taking jobs in all kinds of industries it seems. He writes of their desire for some romantic, old-world charm farm with natural land and an abundance of outdoor “wild” play space for his children. I can’t help but find this story incredibly timely for me, as I’ve been dreaming about eventually finding The Place and happily making it Home.

Here the writer retells their house hunt:

My wife and I imagine our kids growing up in some high valley, their spirits fostered by the creases of ragged mountains, their bodies strengthened by exploring spines of nearby ridges, and their thirst slaked by some cascading stream. This reverie calls us away to some land on Sinking Creek with a barn and twenty acres of organic hay, but it’s too pricey for us. Here’s one in the Catawba Valley, on a feeder stream, but it looks a little small, and is that a … confederate flag at the neighbor’s house? We are a little like Goldilocks: this one is too big, this one is too small, still looking for the place that is just right.
Perhaps my desire is stirred by the very writers I’m drawn to: Muir in the Sierras, Abbey in the Arches, Lopez in the Arctic, and Thoreau in the Walden Woods. They’ve each carved out their niche in a place I am seeking mine, but they are a monastic bunch (except for Abbey), eloquent on the need for wild places but silent on the subject of raising children. Besides, we can’t all move there and enjoy it too.

As we are now 1.5 weeks from M-Day, we are doing the usual: cleaning out rooms, packing up, craigslisting furniture, trying to see enough people to say goodbye. We are also doing a “Greatest Hits” of the Portland area and soaking in the Pac NW while we can. We aren’t too overwhelmed with the packing process: We’ve moved *just* twice in the last 6 years, but since one of them was a cross-country move, and the second was just a year ago, it has helped us travel light (well, that and being broke ). Our bought-used items fill up two small bedrooms and a small living room, with very little need for extra storage. IF we had a 3 bedroom plus garage, we’d likely NEED a 3 bedroom plus garage, lol, but we’ve been blessed with “just enough bread for today” – in times like these, we’re grateful we have less sh** to ship.

More soon…

Had I known how 2010 would start out, I might have spent a little more time enjoying the “boring” aspects of our holidays.

Wow. Yeah. So…

I’ve been keeping some secrets from my blog readers at large, and for now, I still have to keep them! But I can share a little, and must, or I will begin to outgrow this humble little blog and be too far into another world to catch you guys up!

The last 3 weeks have been cra-HAZ-ee. A mixture of some of the most unexpected events to ever come our way, which truly spanned the spectrum of miracles and tragedies. We continue to “process” them all and hold so many in our hearts as we tredge on with life.

This week we finally zero’d in on some decisions about what our future holds and we felt strongly that us Ortecho’s had better get a move on. We have the opportunity to relocate right now; a window of time where Chris can look for work while we find more affordable housing elsewhere in the country that would also be more centrally located to loved ones (though we now have so many loved ones in Portland… *tear*).

A combination of events, circumstances, answered and unanswered prayers lead us to our first (and maybe only) stop along this next part of our journey: Fayetteville, AR.

When we first disclosed the news that we were moving to Arkansas, we got a lot of the same question we did when we picked Portland: “What’s in [insert location of your choice]???” with vague disdain and certain confusion

I think most of the people who know and love us well have come to see us as some brand of pioneers or globe trekkers at this latest surprising locale. Ah, but be that as it may, our hearts actually yearn to find “home” and settle down, and we wouldn’t be taking this step without some Hope that Fayetteville will fit the bill.

Our one-way tickets are booked for February 18th, (so soon!), and we began sorting through our clothing today (ah, the unhappy process of MOVING). I truly feel we are clinging to more than just our ideologies, more so to our FAITH in our loving Guidance and our new found sense of purpose and vision for our family unit. We trust that the light we have received for this next step is just enough to see us through. Sometimes the path we are on as a family creates in my mind’s eye an image of a trail in the darkness, complete with eery noises in the fog of a moonless night. But this latest stretch? It feels a little more like the dawning of a new day. It is the first crack of sunlight, chilly and quiet, when you spot the wildlife that comes out to graze and suck up the dew on long, unkept blades of grass.

Alright, alright, I’m at it again – getting way to allegorical

Deep breathes, simple prayers, belly laughs and cries of surrender seem to capture the mood of this stage. As we each adjust to another transition, we try to keep our sanity and sense of inner stillness.

And after all, what are we as humans if not explorers? Willing to go deeper, farther – within, without? Our family conversations these last few weeks are focused on the adventure that awaits us. Chris and I are excited to find new coffee shops, libraries, thai food, counselors, and of course, community. We are also wondering what God has up His sleeve with the close proximity this location puts us to my maternal family (who I was not raised around)! As for Ethan, he is excited to try out the caves and slip in bat poop (one of my memories when I visited Devil’s Den at age 7!) but when I told him about hiking around things called ticks and chiggers he declared: “I will NEVER go walking in the forest. EVER.”

So I may be more or less “around” these next few weeks as we attempt to get our “stuff” into a rubix cube of material things that can squeeze into a single storage pod for shipping. My heart is bursting with news and surprises and insights that are happening to me every day – but for now, I’ll hold them in and wait until the right time.

Until next time…

Oh and P.S.: I’m sporting dreads these days. No, really. Pictures coming as soon as I don’t look like a gnarly rufkin raised by wolves

I’m up after a loooooong nights sleep (guess I needed it!) still sitting in the dark in my room while Verity sleeps. She needed it too. You see, when she was trying to explore the possibility of biting my nipple yesterday, I had to pop her off and react to the pain to convince her to not try that again. She got wigged out. For about 5 hours she cried and wailed and started to nurse but then remembered my reaction and pushed me away. We laid in bed at midnight, her wailing, tired and hungry, while I just tried to coo at her and pray for her. Finally she fell asleep and so did I. When she woke up through the night, she nursed like a champ. She just needed a little sleep to ease the pain and confusion.

It works that way for us adults, too. The random thoughts and fears that my fatigue surfaces is often long forgotten when I wake up in the morning. Mercies are new.

I’m not enjoying the start of this year, I must admit. It’s put so much on my plate that I am really missing the simplicity of our days – doing some lessons, play, crafts, baking bread and working a few hours when Ethan goes to bed. The predictability and daily rhythm we were beginning to achieve at the end of last year has be upset by the upheavals that planning and moving creates.

An impending move away from Portland weighs on my mind. Part of me wants more time. I want to watch the tulips come up in all my familiar places. I want to sit outside working during the summer while Ethan and Verity and Caleb and Malachi play in the dirt and kiddie pool and get toasty. I want to crunch the leaves when we go trick-or-treating at familiar neighbors. I find such healing in the changing of seasons (something Florida did not offer me) and I hope that our “next place” will feel like home, and quickly! I am determined to put myself “out there” when we move. Ethan wants to know who our neighbors will be, and dog gone it we will bake them something and go introduce ourselves. We’ve already contacted a church we’d like to check out and are searching for home school groups, counselors, etc etc that we will have to find to keep ourselves from being “new” and isolated.

I tell myself it will be just a couple of years. I will look forward to seasons changing in a different area of America. It’s not that big of a change. Serenity tells me to accept, but my stubborn and fearful heart constantly quivers about starting over. Being present with my concerns helps, but sometimes I crave a distraction. Simply NOT thinking about it is a lofty goal

More work has come in this week, which helps. Work reminds me that life is still happening in the margins of all these big plans. Having something to focus on, and finish, is it’s own meditation.

The family and I took a break yesterday and went to see “The Princess and the Frog” – was way cute to see a Disney fairy tale set in New Orleans and the bayous (where my families are from and mostly still reside). While I am not a fan of Disney (at all!), it was nice to just go be entertained by a Cajun musical with Ethan while we split some popcorn. He loved it. I threw up the popcorn later but all in all it was a good outing. (My body was just pissed that I ate so much junk.)

Speaking of eating – oh my – this has been a pleasant moment or two to my days. I haven’t been able to pick up the knitting so reading is my next best escape. I’ve devoured some amazing books on nutrition and cooking. I don’t even know where to begin about that but yeah- let’s just say that I can’t wait til we move (there’s that word again!) and get settled in so I can start cooking my little heart out.

Now that I’m thinking of food, my tummy rumbling is reminding me that I haven’t had my tea and eggs yet. Must go!

More details soon, as plans shape up…