hand in hand
June 27, 2011 § Leave a comment
Little things bring me infinite joy; like witnessing my children sharing a moment of friendship. My daughter slipped her hand inside her brother’s and his fingers wrapped around hers in response. A little thing. He could have let go, I would have understood, but he didn’t. I watched them together, heads bent in conversation, with a full heart. Like a child cautiously cupping a firefly, enraptured by the mystical flickering of light in the dark, I held my breath careful not to break the spell.
salute
June 26, 2011 § Leave a comment
As a toddler, my son would salute every soldier he passed; a quiet affection and respect guiding his appreciation. Older now, he has learned to extend his hand and say thank you. In exchange, the soldiers that once smiled and nodded have paused to listen and share.
A road trip to St. Louis landed us in the company of countless soldiers participating in Marine Week. Suspended atop the Arch I noted how the scene below us, soldiers and equipment, bore an uncanny resemblance to my son’s sandbox. On the ground, the larger than life heroes patiently and generously answered my son’s questions, applauded his understanding, and nurtured his interest.
At the conclusion of our visit, one Marine pilot in particular encouraged my son to document his ideas in blueprints. When my son eagerly offered to share his drawings, I noted an endearing moment of affinity. To that nameless soldier, I cast into the sky a heartfelt note of thanks echoing my son’s gratitude.
settling in
June 26, 2011 § Leave a comment
It has become a routine in an unfamiliar space; I settle our hotel room. This simple act of unpacking and familiarizing creates a source of comfort that centers me for the unpredictable rhythm of days adrift in the boundless space of vacation. Last week, as my family explored a new city, I celebrated my children’s ability to settle naturally in unfamiliar spaces.
My daughter settled in water; her energy and frustrations seemed to wash away where the sky met water and she surfaced serene. Each day she woke dreaming of water and each evening she would center under water. Splashing or floating, each gesture seemed an artful expression of joy.
My son settled in exploration. Each new space created an opportunity for him to release his mind of the weight of questions and delight in new answers. He moved quickly from curiosity to curiosity, pausing to find the source of logic. The social norms that usually confine him fell away under the guise of “tourist” and his joy in the pursuit of knowledge drew other curious travelers to his side.
It was a beautiful week. As we settle back in to our normal routines, I am trying to find moments to capture our new memories in scribbles.
in the bag
June 20, 2011 § Leave a comment
Or not. Packing is an art. Packing for a family an enigma. Still, I felt comfortably confident as we pulled out of our driveway on the verge of vacation that everything we needed was in the proverbial bag. Then our daughter, sent us scavenging for help.
Late on our first full day of vacation our daughter had an accident. Reaching blindly underneath the hotel bed frame for a toy, a stray splinter of wood cut a deep path beneath the nail bed of her pinky finger. My husband tried patiently to retract the stubborn piece of wood while our daughter bravely held her breath between gulping sobs that racked her small frame. Tired and frightened our daughter fell asleep. By morning it was clear we needed help.
In a quiet children’s emergency room we found a friendly community of doctors and nurses that met our daughter’s tears with soothing words and able hands. For all my efforts to predict, plan, and pack we were entirely dependent on strangers for comfort and care. A very warm thanks to the staff at St. Anthony’s in St. Louis.
lucky penny
June 20, 2011 § Leave a comment
Walking with my daughter her hand slipped from mine as she bent towards the sidewalk with an urgency born of discovery. Standing proudly she displayed a lucky penny poised in the air between her fingers. For all its commonness, the simple discovery created a moment of good fortune. This is how I felt at the moment my husband declared a family vacation. With minimal planning and high hopes we are embarking on an adventure that promises a welcome change from the predictable rhythm of our everyday routines and the good fortune of extra time together.
father’s day
June 18, 2011 § Leave a comment
One of my first images of my husband as a father, was that of his large form filling the space of my hospital room doorway. A travel bag packed in haste, bulging with miscellaneous necessities was slung across his chest while a camcorder bag swinging from his other shoulder created a large X across his freshly starched dress shirt. Around him a colorful halo of balloons made his progress at once both cumbersome and celebratory. His face was a mask of pride, fear, hope, and love.
He was by my side through both our children’s labor and deliveries, but this singular moment seems to best capture his spirit as a father. By nature he is a happy soul, playful and outgoing. Like the balloons that followed him into the room, he often brings a sense of celebration to a simple event. The bag packed in haste seems to best represent his eagerness to care for those of us closest to him. The camera toted safely aside the necessities to record the moment true to his desire to create tradition and roots as a father. His face filled with his deepest emotions, radiating love so that you could read it in the dark.
my father
June 18, 2011 § Leave a comment
Sentiments and memories, unintended, pull on my heartstrings. There are moments in a lifetime when the absence of a parent seems larger than memories and love can fill. My father is alive but absent from my life, acceptance and forgiveness for the path that divided us cannot dull the pieces of the little girl nestled in my heart that wish for my father’s love. Once upon a time he was my hero. Smart and funny, charismatic and handsome, he was the person I tirelessly tried to please. Good and bad, somewhere in the shades of love there are lessons and gifts.
Sometimes our parents model examples that help us choose a healthier path. Standing on the shoulders of their mistakes we look into the horizon and try to map a path that winds around old mistakes. It is a mixed blessing, but a gift. As other’s celebrate their fathers, I am taking a moment to remember a simpler time when it was easier to love mine and to recognize the unintentional lessons I gained as my father’s daughter that guide me as I chart my journey as a mother.
the pool
June 17, 2011 § Leave a comment
On a beautiful summer day, my children wake with these two small words hovering on their lips. Like a silent plea, their eyes hold the anticipation of serendipitous playmates in the cool, frivolous waters of the public pool. My own apprehensions follow me pulling at my attention with the weight of my pool bag, cluttered and burdensome. So we pile into the car, excitement and anxiety our invisible companions and wade into the day. Like holding our breath and reaching blindly for diving toys resting at the bottom of the pool, each visit brings unexpected gifts of friendship. Sometimes for one and occasionally for all. At the end of our play, we leave tired with satisfied smiles, eager for another pool day.
something new
June 17, 2011 § 2 Comments
In one of my earliest posts I acknowledged a need for an unidentified something new in my life. I remember quite clearly wanting to name it, but feeling more comfortable leaving room to change my mind. I am a bit of a not needer, compulsively attaching not to wishes or ideas, creating a paused possibility with a comforting cushion of permission to fail. Somewhere underneath my excuses though, is a frustrated perfectionist with poor self-esteem. Recently, I got tired of not trying and decided to take a chance. After years of excusing myself from efforts to run, I decided to try.
I began by making the committment to myself and then sharing my desire with a friend as a source of accountability. I identified a program that would help me take safe steps toward reaching my goal with clearly outlined daily objectives. Accountability and a program were the tools I needed to commit to running. I tend to create a goal without taking time to identify a plan; sabotaging my efforts and good intentions. Clear daily goals with a limited time commitment to running have created balance and focus for my efforts.
Accountability and a plan in place, it was time for action. The first few efforts were simply fun and encouraging. Small goals with brief intervals of running and comfortable periods of walking gave me the confidence to return each day to a new goal. Then came what I deemed an impossible day. The goal seemed outside the realm of my capabilities and doubt nestled by my side. I paused, but ever goal conscious, tried and succeeded. There is no greater feeling than doing something you did not think you could. I am still trying.
This is the lesson I have gained from this new challenge; make room for something new and create a place of possibility.
june
June 16, 2011 § Leave a comment
Sometime in December, perhaps even the First of January, I pause to note new goals that will inspire me through the cold, dreary months of winter. I nurture my mind and spirit with hope and possibility, something akin to resolutions. Last winter I began writing to no one in particular, but with a promise to myself to move forward. Today I am taking a moment to look behind me at where I began here (scribblechic) and where I stand.
First, when given the opportunity to define myself I remember feeling overwhelmed and unprepared. Without editing myself, I quickly and briefly stated: I am a woman, wife, and mother that finds beauty in simplicity. I am forever scribbling thoughts on scraps of paper and curious to share fragments of my life with others. The act of writing and sharing my thoughts has been both a gift and a challenge. I have gifted myself time in the space of my days to be still and document moments for another day. The piece of me that was curious to share has found joy in the process of sharing simple moments with others.
In my first post, I can feel myself grasping at the air around me trying to find direction. I love watching people with the same spirit I love setting pen to paper. Typing is simpler, but I love the feel of my pen sailing against the grainy texture of paper. In that first post I began with those basic self-truths. Three of my favorite ingredients to a beautiful moment are a pen, paper, and people. I am forever slipping into a stranger’s story and then longing to share my simple moment of humor, growth, or grace with another soul. I won’t pretend to know where to begin; instead, I will share these moments I scribble in my mind. I was trying to begin from a space that felt authentic. I remember expecting to share and reflect on others’ stories, but it was those of my children that have come most naturally.
In unlisted I tried to step away from an introduction by setting seasonal goals. I identified fitness, writing, something new (unnamed), and presence in each moment. There was also an early acknowledgment that I am organizationally challenged. I am still finding logic in my efforts to create order in my days, but I have recommitted to fitness in something new. I am going to return to this in a separate entry, but facing a new challenge and finding my way has given me great joy. Writing and being present in my days has balanced my joy keeping me conscious of my blessings. With each entry I am aware of the simple blessings of my life and the endless lessons my life as a mother has provided.
In looking back at these very first efforts to find a beginning in this space, I have found a sense of self and my voice. I am still learning, but the process has been a wonderful journey I do not wish to end.
