Aura j o o n

Jump Ship.

2011-09-25T11:20:00.002-05:00

One time, my Mother told me that from the time she was a little girl, she always recognized fault in other people around her, and swore to change those wrongs in herself.

From an initial stand-point, the statement came across as cynical, and self-indulgent. I think sometimes my Mother can come across this way...a product of living half of her life in another country and coming here at almost 30 years old and learning a language that does not translate as clear and honest as Farsi.

The reality is, that all of us possess faults and wrong-doings, we are just not willing to admit to them. The real self-indulgence comes from a human being who can not admit that since we are indeed all humans, we all harbor the same abilities to be negative, jealous, insecure, angry, spiteful. They are our traits, and we are all composed of different degrees of these characteristics, mixed with a sweet balance of love and happiness, contentment, confidence, and empathy.

To see fault in others around us is to see fault in ourselves. I am beginning to understand that I can very quickly understand and point out what it is that I don't like in opposing behavior, only because I know I am capable of that behavior myself.
We see jealousy because we've felt it. We feel anger because we've lived it. And instead of being kind and dismissing these errors in the people around us, we hold them responsible for things we have done and said ourselves.

So. To see fault in other people and change that in ourselves does not seem to come across so superior when we understand that being the change we wish to see in the world is actually quite humble and selfless. Especially when approached with patience for those around us who have not quite come to these points of realization in themselves. We do not all think alike, and we all arrive at life's milestones at different paces, jumping from one stepping stone to the next and sometimes falling flat in the process.

The land of blogs and twitter and pinterest are places where some people spend hours searching for inspiration, direction, and a pretty picture of what they want their life to be. But they are also places of dishonesty, self-denial, and jealousy. There are so many voices out there, that sometimes it becomes difficult to hear your own over the loud hum of ten thousand photos telling you what you are supposed to wear and eat and think. An open invitation to compare yourself and fall short. It is overwhelming, and over the last few months I have had to question where my own voice was heading with this outside influence.

I began to see the things I did not like in other people, and in turn, I began to see those things in myself.
To keep an online blog is quite difficult. For ten+ years I have somehow taken part in some sort of social media. The livejournals, myspaces, facebooks, blogs, and pinterests. Every few years, usually when life changes in a different direction, it becomes almost unbearable to look at my past on display. As human beings, we all grow and change, do and say things we are not proud of, and hopefully learn and move on. When you put your life out there on the internet - it sits there and stares you in the face. The internet is written in ink, and if this were the journal I had permanently written - then I would have to say that maybe, my worst flaw as a human being is my absolute predictability to jump ship and disappear when life changes course.

Is that such a bad thing, to spread your wings and fly from an expected path? Or is the true blame within our societies obsession with sharing too much?
I still don't know the answer to that, but what I do know is, like many other times in my life where I have needed to step back and look at where I was going, my answers are quite clear from an objective stand-point.

Friends, I will tell you that life lived when not a single person is looking is quite different than this online world. Things move a lot slower, quieter, and more simply. Days are longer, we speak softer, and somehow all those lost minutes of the day come together to form an extra hour or two to focus on the things that really matter.

For some people, this is not the life they are looking for. It's okay, we are all different, headed down different paths. But for me, it feels almost liberating to know what it feels like to live like no one is looking.

This is me seeing fault in others, and myself. This is me changing.
For now, this is me jumping ship.

Hello, and Goodbye (wasting time).

2011-08-04T21:00:00.017-05:00

This weekend, my parents offered to take baby E for her first overnight away from home.
Michael was thrilled.
I was sick.

We made plans for Friday night, our first "date night" alone since March.
We decided to go for dinner, and a night at Reggaefest.

The first time I ever heard of Pho, was from my friend Erin.
I was 21 years old, fresh off a 3 year vegetarianism, and we were sitting in the “lunch room” of our hair school. Surrounded by girls 15 pounds skinnier, 6 inches taller, and a whole lot more booby, who ate nothing but crackers and spray butter. It was odd, and to this day almost 8 years later, we still talk about hair school spray butter girls.

And we ate together. We were our own little lunch table. I had a flower in my hair, she was angsty, and somehow it worked.
Erin is the brownest white person I know. And along with a keen sense of the Spanish language, good taste in hip hop, and an affinity for Asian food, she also always thinks she is right.

So when she plopped down next to me one day with a piping hot bowl of Pho, she demanded that my wrinkled, up-turned nose was wrong.
I mean come ON….it’s raw meat with hot water poured on top, then you eat it?!

(Take a listen to the pronunciation. It’s not what you think.)

After my pretentious bought with Vegetarianism, I was unable to see the food world as anything but black and white, and moderation had not quite come to me yet, seeing as how I hadn’t had much life experience at 21.

When Michael suggested Pho Friday night, I had a funny memory of 19-year-old Erin, sitting next to me in the spray butter lunch room of hair school.

”If I had a Pho restaurant, I would call it ‘What the Pho.’”

I laughed out loud, 7 years after she said that, alone in my thoughts.

We drove to the Asian district, and I visited more old memories.
Along the way, I thought of my own childhood, and then I thought of Elodie. I wondered if my Mom was getting her ready for bed.
When I was a little girl, all of us, Grandma & Grandpa, my parents, and my Sister would drive to the Asian district and shop. We bought our rice in wholesale amounts, and were thankful that another nearby culture ate rice in the same quantities that we did.
My Sister and I would drag our feet through the aisles...I have a vivid memory of a fish laying on a bed of ice…moving.
A tiny little girl, I gasped and jumped back…..only to lean in close and wait to see it one more time.

When we got older and my Sister was a preteen, she would scream at my parents “I’m not going in there! I don’t want to smell like fish!”
She very well might have stomped her feet, afterward.

A tiny shadow of my big sister, I would add “Yeah! Me neither.”
We would listen to music in the car, she’d ignore me because I was 8 and annoying, and I would stare out the window, daydreaming about the moving fish on ice.

As my husband and I pull into the Asian District of Oklahoma City 20 years later, I am flooded with warm memories. The bustle, sounds, the smells.

Friday night we went to Pho Lien Hoa. It is located on the edge of the Asian District, but still close enough to the new, up and coming hipster-areas of Oklahoma City for someone who isn’t feeling terribly adventurous.

This time, I was not such a snob. In the 7 years since I decided being a vegetarian wasn’t for me, I learned what moderation meant. To eat what tastes good, and always, always try something once. Even if it means that you are the minority. This approach to food also became an approach to life.

{our last night out, January 2008}

My best friend of 15 years moved to Austin almost 4 years ago, and on the last night she was home, I shoe-polished "Austin or Bust" on her back windshield.
We always make time to visit a couple times a year. She lives downtown, right on 6th Street, so we spend a majority of the time walking everywhere we go and enjoying the city for what it is. But sometimes, like our trip in January, when I was 7 months pregnant and not feeling the hipster-vibe of the city, we decided to try something new.
Her boyfriend was born and raised in Austin, and knows little spots to venture to when the thin mustaches, food trucks, and plaid get to be repetitive and stale. Do we really need to stand around and judge what every one else is wearing and listening to?

Nothing you wear is quite cool enough for some spots in ATX, and one night we just begged him to take us anywhere that we could get sushi, still wearing our pajamas.

We packed up Petey and drove 15 minutes on the freeway from her condo on 6th Street. Away from the bustle of Downtown, and to a place tucked into an older strip mall. The sign glowed only, “sushi” against the quieter, slower parts of the city.
When we walked in, it was like we fell through the center of the Earth and into another world where we were the minority. The chef nodded to our host, and sent him plates of food, all night.

“Do you come here a lot, or something?”

I’ve been convincing my friend that finally, she has found her Great “one.”
The one who doesn’t want to take her places where everyone around her is worried about what everyone else looks like.
Instead he takes her to this upside down world where they are strangers in a sea of faces not worried about anything but the sushi. One neon, glowing light in the dark Texas sky.

We walked into the restaurant Friday night, and sat down.
It is the kind of place that has a Vietnamese breakdown of cow parts, and 90% Asian customers. I loved it, instantly.

Before I can look over the menu, our appetizer ($2.25!) is in front of us. Two spring rolls, wrapped in shrimp.

The sauce is incredible. I consider licking the bowl, but decide against it. I look around and just as I suspected, no one is looking at anything but their Pho. I settle for licking my chopsticks.

Our plates are whisked away and I start to take photos of the meticulously clean, and shiny table. No fingerprints.

Before I can adjust my settings for the bright back light behind me, our Pho is plopped down in front of us. We can’t get a thank you in, and wonder what part of the wait staff speaks conversational English, anyway. There were a lot of rehearsed “okay, thank you, you order, refill's?”

It’s beautiful. The smell, the hot steam on my face, and the fresh, green aroma are heaven. There is a large plate of limes, jalapenos, fresh basil and mint still attached to the stems, and cabbage.

A buffet of everything I love? This is bliss, and I’m never leaving.
In my head, I’m thanking Erin, and laughing at what the pho.

Our food is dressed, mixed, and ready to eat. The steaming hot broth is cooking the thin slices of meat, and softening the greens to just the right amount to release their flavors and add a bit of bite to the meal. The yin/yang of the meat and herbs is a perfect combination. I'm suddenly so glad I'm not a vegetarian anymore.

The rest of our conversation is put on hold. The only thing going on is the two of us, faces 5 inches above our bowls, managing to spit out ”this is amazing” between bites (read: shoveling).
As we slow down, we talk about Elodie. It has been 3 hours away from her, and so far, neither of us (me) has died. He tells me he misses her, and I’m not quite so sure I can make it much longer, when all I want to be doing is cuddling with the three of us on the couch, eating our Pho to go.

When it was all said and done, I had done the most damage. I poked at my husband and made him take a photo of shame – a bowl still one thirds full of broth. To give him credit, the bowl was massive. And we got the smalls.

We left with full bellies and a burning, spicy kick in our mouths. Pure bliss.

We headed to Bricktown, where I always love to stop and photograph the old buildings. I love the weathered, aged words painted across the brick.

When we got there, we walked around the Bricktown Canal and met up with friends at Reggaefest.

I think of another trip to Austin, just a long girls weekend. Long, long before I was even dreaming of the responsibility and change that comes with being a Mother. We went to Reggaefest and I danced all weekend barefoot in the mud, lost my point and shoot camera and somehow didn’t care, and got soaked in the rain. And we danced, danced, danced. That was the old me, and as more and more months pass and baby E becomes a part of our family, it seems like those careless weekends are a light year away.

On Friday night, we sat and listened to the first band. When night fell and the sky went dark, I couldn’t stop thinking about the old me. So I downed my margarita, took my husband to the stage, and we danced to a Bob Marley cover band.
That night, there were fireworks in Bricktown at the baseball game a block away.

And I felt like the old me, again.
I wasn’t quite busting out the glowing hula hoop, dancing in my bikini top and rubbing people. Ahh, to grow older and learn moderation.

Around midnight we caved and drove to my parents to pick up Elodie. Sleepy, holding her blanket, Michael picked her up and kissed her, and we drove her home. I melted.

Before I had a baby, I worried that one day, I would look at myself in the mirror and not recognize the person staring back. After I had her, I realized that it had happened, whether I liked it or not.
Somehow, all those conversations from parents that end in “but they’re so worth it…” started to make sense.

I spent the rest of the weekend away from tv, internet, and my phone, building Elodie her little reading nook. I had made the first half of the canopy when I was pregnant, and finally finished it.

Now her room is done. A tiny sanctuary where she loves to lay and look around. Filled with bright, Oklahoma light, I point to each bit and piece of her room and tell her khetob eh Elodie, tacht eh Elodie, pangereh eh Elodie……book, bed, window, this belongs to you.

It seems that I tend to get a lot of things done when I take steps away from wasting time. When I spend hours online, sleep in too late, and put efforts into meaningless relationships. I knew that the old me was hiding in there, somewhere.
This weekend I remembered who the old me was. One night of forbidden spicy foods, dancing, and us talking about our freaking baby like one of those parents all. night. long.

The truth is, that I miss the old me. The late nights, dancing….being care free.
But somewhere along the way, something inside of me changed.
All those smug parents were right, and we absolutely turned into one.

She’s worth it.

It is through that realization, that I find I am not saying goodbye to the old me, but rather, hello, to the new one.
I guess sometimes (but not all those times, thank you moderation), I would rather be playing with colored blocks.

Creating a space where she will learn, grown, and feel inspired.

And watching my husband read a bedtime story to our baby girl at night.

My friend Amy sent me a letter (yes, in the mail, we write letters like old women!) a few days ago. She has been feeling all these things, at the same time. Her baby E was born a few weeks before Elodie, and in her letter she writes "I remember back in college when you and I would write those long, confessional-style letters to each other. That was forever ago, wasn't it?"

{Amy, on a kayaking trip we took together in 2006}

It was. What changed? How can we be those girls and balance these babies at the same time, again?

Do you ever get sick of people around you always worrying so much about how everything looks? It's like the life inside those moments itself, is missing.

To feel bits and pieces of that doesn't feel good to me.
The more I do this, the more I realize that unfortunately, a lot of this "business" is about a whole lot of posing, photo shopping, and living life....to talk about it.

At some point over this weekend, I questioned this space, and why I still do this. There is 100% of my life waiting for me, and the time I give it is broken up into things that don't matter.
Spending 30 minutes reading 30 different blogs. 20 minutes looking at pictures of someone on Facebook (read: creeping) that I don't even know, 30 minutes looking at clothes online.
What am I even doing? In 1.5 hours I built baby E her first little fort. It felt good. Not mindless. Not life lived from one same spot on the corner of the same couch, looking at the same websites. Over. and Over.

This feels like one of those times in life where you need a break. Ever have one of those, friends?
To take the time to learn about this new obstacle ahead of you - a stage - and how we will add this to one more adventure that this wild ride has in store for us.

As we change and adjust to these stepping stones and ultimately choose how we will react to them, we will go forward in life, growing or staying the same.

Wishing these minutes away would be wrong. Because if our days fly by? Well then I guess life would just be entirely too short, overall.

Looking for the next best, and biggest thing in life is a waste of your days. You're constantly waiting for your next big trip and adventure, and in reality, you miss the small ones we travel on every day.

No matter what, this world is still spinning, spinning, spinning. And if we don't hurry to get on, it will leave without us.

See you in a few weeks, friends.

PS, I left a little note on my blog 'break' in the comments.

Happy (hot) Weekend.

2011-07-29T18:22:00.002-05:00

We had some relief and the temperatures dropped to the low 100's, but next week we're looking at 109, again. I think this might just be the weekend that I take your advice, and get a kiddie pool for us to splash in.

Happy Weekend, friends.
Any fun plans?

the Swallowtail.

2011-07-25T22:04:00.007-05:00

Every Summer, the Swallowtail caterpillar plows through entire harvests of dill. I have not one year seen my Mom and Grandma's gardens escape their presence.

This year, I planted an unusually large amount of herbs, and my patch of dill was a large portion of my herb garden. Within a few weeks of the time I planted my seeds, my garden was full of them.

They would grow fat with bellies full of dill, then one day disappear. A few days later tiny baby swallowtail caterpillars would be in their place...sometimes as many as 15.

Michael's little brother spent a good amount of the Summer with us, and one night, Michael and him devised a plan only two 16 year old boys could come up with. $20 would be paid to his brother if he ate one of my caterpillars.

"Why not? It's $20."

I tried everything. I begged, lied, told him they were acidic and warned him against the foul odor they spray when predators come around. That last part wasn't a lie...but I did tell him that they taste like bile and sour dill.

They probably do.

The reason I finally gave him was the one I gave Michael when he told me to get rid of them, and how they were pests to my garden.
One day, they will wake up and not be these little dill-destroying creatures. They will be worth more than $20.

The evening before his brother left to go back home, I was outside, picking the last of my herbs for the season. Trapped inside the tomato and strawberry cage was a little something I called him outside to see.

It was one of our little swallowtail caterpillars, all grown up.

To see this transformation happen within two weeks is breath taking. And I knew there was a reason why this year, I planted enough dill for the two of us.

This is the Black Swallowtail...our Oklahoma State Butterfly. It's a huge part of what I saw growing up here, and to me...that is worth more than all the $20 bills in the world.

Swallowtail - The Oklahoma butterfly from Aura on Vimeo.

song is "Ripe" - Givers.

...

Thanks for the weather encouragement and teething tips, friends. Last night, a few hours after I posted, we got our rain.

The long, hot days of an Oklahoma Summer.

2011-07-24T18:33:00.008-05:00

This Summer has been abnormally hot, even for our scorching Oklahoma Summers. When June came around, our temperatures reached the 100's and have stayed that way. There seems to be no end in sight, and every week we watch the weather, disappointed by another 7 days of triple digit temperatures and no rain in sight. We are in the middle of a severe drought, and the days seem to drag on with no relief.
At any given time, the weather here seems to be an indicator that the world is ending, when in reality, it is just a typical Oklahoma weather pattern.

Even our watering holes prove no relief, only feeling like a disappointing tepid bath. One that makes your skin almost feel worse than it did before.

We are all suffering from severe cabin fever, and feeling the need to spread our wings and be part of the outside world again. Days are spent trapped inside our house with the air conditioner on constantly, barely clothed, and sweating. Sweet Elodie seems to be taking it the worst. She loves nothing more than being outside - I adore that first moment when I take her out and she sighs, blinks her eyes, and takes in all the smells, sounds, and happy bits of nature. But these days she is stuck inside with the rest of us, and also teething. She cries, cries, cries...chews on frozen pacifiers and her little fingers. I want desperately to let her feel the wind on her skin and through her hair....I miss it, too.

We keep her busy the best we can, but there is only so much you can do with a (almost) 4 month old that just wants to sit in the hammock and swing, listening to the birds.

I try to rattle toys at her, but everything seems to make her cry. I make her promises of Fall, and how we will hike, go for walks, and lay in the hammock until she falls asleep and drifts off to another place.

The time inside has been a nice break to spend with family, and rest. But as the days go by and I see more and more of her personality come through, I realize how much of the two of us is inside her tiny body.

She is a whole mess of bored & sensitive, and a combination of her screams and this heat have been making my head very heavy.

We still have 2 more full months of hot weather, and for now I have to focus on the day to day. Looking ahead, it seems like a lifetime away before I can open the windows and let the stale out of this home that feels like a prison.

When she is in bed and my world is quiet again, I grab the monitor and sneak outside to unwind. The evening is the only time of day that is somewhat bearable, although the upper 90's are not much of a relief from this overbearing weight of Summer.
I take photos, pull weeds, and sadly look over a garden that stood no chance against the kind of Summer we had this year.

In late July, a Summer Breeze in Oklahoma is nothing like the ones that cool us to our bones in Spring. Now they feel heavy, thick, like a brick across your face. It feels like opening an oven, and being met with a wall of heat.

My herbs have long ago dried up, and what I didn't save to dry myself for the cooler months, I let go to seed. I have been outside in these hot evenings, picking them to prepare for gardening season, next Spring.

The way you feel after spending a couple hours outside in this weather can only be truly understood if you have spent a Summer here, in the middle of arid Oklahoma.
After a period of time, it almost feels like death. Your body is only brought back to reality by the beads of sweat that slowly trickle down your back, reminding you that you are still alive. Everything slows down, and even your senses are completely numb. Things seem to move slower, the world is drowsier, your heart beats quieter.

Across the state, people are losing their lives, and our wildlife is completely threatened by this drought.

In a literal sense, everything is just cooking.

Every couple weeks, clouds will fill the sky and everyone is praying to their God that it will finally rain. But we are met with no response from anyone or thing upstairs, and the tiny drops that barely cover the tallest leaves quickly evaporate.

The only things thriving are the sunflowers. My wildflower garden has dried up, but the sunflowers seem to be loving this heat.

Their faces are an absolute joy, a mirror image of the hot sun that is causing all of this trouble. But still they make me happy, to know that something is still able to live through this.

I've been clipping them and bringing them inside, my tiny bits of the outdoors inside of this air-conditioned-prison.
I've also been bringing inside handfuls of tomatoes from the garden...they are the only other remaining things that have survived.

But as of last week, this spider has made it's home in the middle of my three tomato plants, and I doubt that I will be in the middle of her web, picking my fruit any longer.

How challenging it really is... to stay optimistic and alive when everything around you is dying.
In these moments - the end of our icy Winters and the long, hot days of an Oklahoma Summer - it is a daily struggle and fight to put on a smile and face a world that is doing everything it can to break you down.

In these weak moments I think of sweet Elodie. Tiny, teething, sensitive, and innocent. Her first Summer has been a challenging one....and I wish that I could make it all better for her. For myself. But in real life, things don't work that way.

So today, and tomorrow, and for as long as that 7 day forecast spells 106 + no precipitation, I will smile and teach Elodie that sometimes we cannot control what goes on around us. The hand we are dealt may not be the best, but it's the only one we have.
In our home we are dreaming of the brisk days of Fall, open windows, and new life. Long walks, bike rides, and patio nights. Throwing more wood on the chiminea fire, swinging in the hammock, and a barren weight of Summer '11 to be lifted from our weary shoulders.

We will take it one day at a time, and one day we will wake up and these dreams will be today. Until then, all we can do is wait.

to Be near you - (round three of the Styleathon)

2011-07-18T13:06:00.006-05:00

When people speak from their hearts, before our minds have had a chance to reason, the voice is loud...clear, and a statement of initial chemistry. Fireworks.
I like to write from this place, and have a hard time putting guidelines or limitations on the things that come to mind. This is true inspiration, wild thoughts racing through your head, flashing images so quick you can barely write them down fast enough.

The truth is, that I found this Styleathon a bit difficult and outside my norm. The fashion aspect of it was completely foreign to me. I had such a hard time actually putting conscience effort into what I needed to be wearing. Normally, it’s whatever is clean (and sometimes not clean) and comfortable. Posing for the photos was even more taxing, and I found myself to be very unnatural and uncomfortable. Michael even accused me of taking too big of steps as I was walking :) An obvious sign that I was putting too much thought into how everything looked (and trying not to trip in the process).

But like everything else that we come across in life that makes us step outside of our comfort zone, I did learn a thing or two.
Throughout this project, I have been worried about what the people that come here would think.
I know a majority of my friends are not typical Fashionistas. Lots of yoga pants and flowy skirts around these parts. There’s not a lot of my $12, knit Target skirts, flip flops, and denim cut offs on any runways. I don’t read any fashion magazines, and tend to be super lazy when it comes to actually getting ready. This was a reminder that we have a tendency to worry about our appearance entirely too much. Women have a habit of being overly critical of themselves, and others. Sometimes I think our preoccupation with having the perfect hair, makeup, and clothes comes from the assumption that other women will be judging us. In reality, we are so much harder on ourselves than anyone else…our own worst critics. The last couple months have been full of gentle reminders to be confident and kind, and to appreciate myself for who I really am. To capture the real moments with Elodie, as they were happening. Even if they were simple, and not so glamorous in the process. My careful observer, I love that she watches the world through her curious eyes and learns through me being myself, that she will one day be herself, as well.

Wearing Elodie has become an absolute joy and freedom I was searching for, and finding the words to describe that came naturally to me.

With this Styleathon also came a lot of new readers to the blog (we are over 100,000 visitors a month) and also, some unwanted negativity.
It’s not too much of a surprise, because in life, you will always come across people that dislike you. I don’t have an issue accepting criticism from others, but I do have an issue accepting criticism from people who have not bothered to read what I have to say.
I have no space, room, desire, or patience for adults with child-like behavior, and those comments will be deleted and not given second thought.

I’ve said it a thousand times, but apparently words can fall short on deaf ears, closed minds, and covered eyes.

Be kind.
And if not? Then it’s your loss, not mine.

Be you, and speak you.
The ones that matter, don’t mind. And those who mind?
They don’t matter at all.

Finally, I wanted to say how interesting it was to see the stark contrast in personality between the other Mothers and myself. We are all so different, and there is something strikingly apparent about that. I think that after this entire thing, I came out understanding that even more. We are all unique…individual components that make us up into our own true self. Designer high heels, flip flops. Coffee or tea breaks, walks to the park and strolls through a museum. We are women, Mothers, friends, sisters…not competition. We live in our own corners of this world and all see it through different eyes. And the most important thing?

To love our beautiful little babies with everything inside of us.

Thank you to Leigh from Marvelous Kiddo, for thinking of me and bringing me along for the ride.

Lilla P, for showing me what a nice skirt looks and feels like, compared to my $12 one from Target :) Your clothes are both beautiful and versatile for a trip down the runway or a trip to the garden store. I have to admit that it took all of 3 weeks before I got a stain on it, though. Either dry breast milk, hair color, or mystery fluid. I haven’t decided which it is, yet.

Selima Optique- I have never in my life owned a pair of sunglasses that cost more than $18. Hence why the big, cheap, plastic clunkers always made me so hot and sweaty that I ended up not wearing them. Who would have thought that it was easier to be outside and slave over my garden in 110 degree weather if I had spent a few extra dollars on a nice pair :)

Marla Cielo – Her work is so unique. I wanted to cry when I found out that she specifically chose a piece for us based off of our personalities. There is something so wild and romantic, flattering and heart-warming to know that someone can read who you are as a person. For me, she chose her "Purple Heart" bag.
I can’t wait to pass this onto Elodie someday and have a little piece of who I am stained onto the threads.

And Thank you to Sakura Bloom for allowing me to be a part of this. For keeping Elodie close to my heart, just like she was for 39 and a half weeks. To be near me, just like she is supposed to be.

Round Three of the Styleathon Freestyle Video.
After a Summer of Adventure, we knew we would want to spend this one close to home. We can’t wait to show Elodie the world, and it was in fact the first time she would ever get to experience an Oklahoma summertime.
Gardening, Mini road trips to our watering holes, fireflies, Arts Festivals, Summer thunderstorms in the Midwest, concerts in the park, fireworks, and lazy days in the hammock. These are the simple joys of life that we wanted to include her in. Wearing Elodie, I am able to bring her up to my eyes and tell her and show her all the little things she will one day learn to love herself. The things that will make her who she is.

to Be near you.

*song is "Noche Nada" - Givers.

Goodbye, little friend.

2011-07-08T18:19:00.004-05:00

When I was a little girl, I used to form unhealthy attachments to inanimate objects. I would hold tight to the memory of where it came from, who had gifted it, or how long it had been in my life. My things became tiny friends...whispered stories in my room at night.

Not a lot has changed, and these days I still fill our house with little reminders of all these memory-soaked corners of my mind. Piles of rocks and shells, cards, textiles, and book ends.

In the Summer of 2009, Michael and I went on a road trip to Colorado to camp and hike. Somewhere along the 12 hour drive, I cut two pieces of an old fabric I'd had for years, and stitched them into a little bracelet. When I put it on, I had no idea how long it would actually be there.

To be exact, the bracelet lived to be 2 years old. And after that day that I put it on my wrist, I never took it off again. Until today. Underneath it is one pale stripe around my wrist, a memory in itself of all the Summer adventures that my little friend lived through.

Like one barefoot, muddy girls-only weekend in Austin with my best friend.

The little bracelet got a little bit more bleached in the sun & salt....

and Florida wetlands.

Cliff-diving over Summer weekends....

...and little road trips along the way.

And one year later, it traveled back to Colorado. And it was around my wrist the day we got home and I took a pregnancy test.

It was a Summer I will always remember.

Summer Adventures from Aura on Vimeo.

Full of new adventures.

Little bracelet traveled back to Austin to eat some yummy food and introduce baby E to some of the best migas that she will ever have.

And at 11:20am, it was mixed in to hospital bracelets and around my wrist, on the morning that Elodie was born.

You made it two years, bracelet. Two years full of exciting memories and life-changing moments that were soaked into your worn, bleached threads. Goodbye, little friend.

Why I choose to wear my baby.

2011-07-05T17:24:00.005-05:00

When I was pregnant with Elodie, we were one person. Quiet moments in the backyard, watching the world around us unfold, I would tell her what life was like out here.
The breeze, the birds, the drops of sticky Summer on your bare skin.

After she was born, it felt like a big part of me was outside of my body. Although I physically felt free - no longer bound by the restrictions of a huge, looming belly - I felt a dull, empty ache for where Elodie used to be.

Those first few weeks, it was just us. Naked, warm, comforting. I would press her against my bare skin and we fit together like two missing pieces that were finally bound again. Her head on my chest, her throat against the curve of my breast, her belly against the roundness of mine, an empty, hollow room where she once used to be...we would breathe and our hearts would beat as just one. She was still a part of me in those moments.

Elodie is 3 months old. I love to watch her relationship with my husband, an absolute puddle in the hands of her Dad, I am pulled back to the days where I was also a little girl, in love with my Daddy who could do no wrong. She bats her eyelashes, giggles, and already I watch her flirting with Daddy, and starting this sweet journey of love that Fathers share with their little girls. Always.

And with me?

I can’t wait for her to wake up sleepy and yawning from her naps. To wrap her up and keep her close to my heart, once again. To look down and see her tiny hands, where a round, looming belly once was.

She grabs my (falling) hair and holds up her head, a look of complete contentment across her serious face. She watches the world unfold, through her own eyes, and whispers from me. Stories of the breeze, birds, and sticky drops of Summer on her bare skin.

And in these moments, we are one person again.

Round Two of the Sakura Bloom Styleathon - How wearing my baby has changed my life/why I choose to wear my baby.

Striped shirt - Lilla P, 2011
Gray Skirt - Target, 2010
Leather flip flops - Abercrombie and Fitch, 2007
Denim cut-offs - Thrifted and cut into shorts, 2011
Sunglasses - Selima Optique
Sling - Sakura Bloom
Elodie's onesie - KEEP AUSTIN WEIRD... bought on our babymoon in Austin, 2011

Backyard Farming - Scrambeled Eggs & Herbs

2011-07-01T08:21:00.004-05:00

This year, with my time limited and wanting to focus on our landscaping, I planted just a few veggies and a large herb garden. I always use herbs the most out of everything I plant, and anytime I grocery shop I seem to have a basket full of cilantro. As far as the edible ones go, I planted dill, parsley, mint, cilantro, and basil. I've been enjoying them all Summer, and yesterday evening I brought inside a big batch of them to dry and use all Winter long when I'm missing my garden and how fresh a meal can taste with the addition of some greens.

When you bring inside herbs from the garden, make sure to soak them for half an hour in a bowl of water. This knocks off any bugs, dirt, eggs, or anything else you don't really want to be digesting :)

These eggs have been a favorite around here, all Summer. My Mom is an herb garden pro, and she regularly uses any greens (we call them sabzi) in all of her cooking. She made these for me one day, and I've been hooked ever since. I've never been a big fan of eggs, but needed the extra protein for pregnancy and breastfeeding. Now I make these eggs a couple times a week.

Enjoy!

"Thick Skin."

2011-06-24T18:34:00.007-05:00

When I was 8 years old, I went to a small elementary school in the middle of Oklahoma. To grow up here meant to understand that everyone liked you and was nice...until they found out you were different.

There were only a handful of us – coarse hair, wide noses, slanted eyes, and skin color ranging from olive, to deep, ebony brown. I was somewhere on the lucky side, yet still foolish to think that the other children believed me when I said that I was only darker than them because of how much time my family spent outside. They stared in response, and I felt 5 inches tall.
For the most part I slipped through shadows, and escaped my first few years of school with only a small mess of heartbreak and realization about how cruel human beings truly can be. Ten years old, and I had already been called Nigger twice to my face. The first time, the words stung my skin. I didn’t know what that word meant, but I knew the tone behind it. And at that moment something inside me changed, and for the first time in my young, innocent life, I was made to feel that I wasn’t good enough.

Somewhere on the other end of the most unlucky in our handful, was a little girl. Deep, ebony brown girl. Her hair stood off her head in one puff of a ponytail on the back of her head. Round bottom in leggings, strong legs, and skin so smooth and sable, shining under the fluorescent lights of our grade school cafeteria.

Last night I swung outside with my husband and the night was still, and dark. I closed my eyes and in a flash, 20 years of my past life disappeared into the one memory of this little girl.
“There was this girl I used to go to elementary school with….”
I stopped, my grief, a 50 pound weight in my throat. In the dark, I could see him smiling at me. The moon and stars reflecting off his white grin.

“What is it?“

In my head, I was finding the only words I could put together to explain my memory of her.

”She was only a little girl.”

And in a flood of tears, my words drowned and were lost before they ever left my throat.
She never said one word. The only sound I remember coming from her was muffled cries. She sat in the corner of our lunch room, alone, dark skin shining under the fluorescent lights of the grade school cafeteria. She sucked her thumb, and she cried, and cried, and cried. I will never forget her face, not until the day I die and I am free from the sad memory I have held tight from this little girl.

On her face, were two white, salty streams. Falling from her almond eyes and rolling down her cheeks, she sat in the corner and I stared at her dark, ebony skin. I remember the way those two lines of tears looked, but not much else, anymore. She was just tears, to me.

After that year, I never saw her again. I found my solace in a small group of friends who were like me – the daughter of two college professors, she loved to try our food and play in my Mom’s garden with me. And a little girl, adopted from Korea when she was a baby. We were the lucky ones, we had each other and something about that made us feel a little less different, less odd, and less like the little girl with the dark, ebony skin and white tears.

Over the years my skin grew thick with the exposure to what the world was really like, outside of my own little village. There was no solace or mercy when I walked out the door and away from what I loved. And for years, I was lead to believe that who I was, was not good enough. They like you, until they find out you are different.

One day, Elodie will come home from school with her own streams of salt staining the cheeks of her thin, olive skin. Because someone was prettier than her. Faster, smarter, thinner, braver. Because the boy (or girl) she loves chose somebody else. Leaving her wondering ”What does she have that I don’t?” Because she was left feeling not good enough.

In my moments of quiet reflection, I wish for the strength to put on a brave face and teach her to find her courage to go on, with her head up high and her feet planted strong. Even if it means that after she goes to bed, I will stand over her and drown in my tears – devastated to know that something so innocent and pure has felt pain to this capacity, for the first time. Please let me find that strength.

Tonight, I am left wishing that every Mother, Father, teacher, friend, and peer could see the importance behind teaching kindness.
Tonight, I am left wishing for Elodie’s skin to grow thick, a lot faster than mine ever did.

Tonight... I am wishing for that little girl. Today, she is a woman, almost 30 years old. In my heart, I dream that she has a beautiful little girl with her own skin tone and wild hair. Those strong legs, almond eyes, and only a picture of pure happiness painted across her thick, ebony skin, her white smile will be the only memory of her I will choose to remember.

Happy Friday, friends.

Thank you for your sweet words on Round One of the styleathon, and your concern over the storm.

We have been cleaning up our backyard, and making it feel like home again. Fortunately, my veggie and herb garden, as well as quite a few sunflowers ended up making it through the damage. I'm also happy to report that Michael spotted two of the baby birds last week :) The best news of all. On the sad side, Petey has $3,000 worth of damage! Our poor adventure-wagon.

Leigh is hosting another giveaway for Round Two of the styleathon, and you can visit her to enter for a Sakura Bloom silk sling, and Marla Sielo Wristlet. Follow this link, if you are interested.

We have our Round Two assignments, and I am so excited for this one. We have 350 words to describe why we wear our children, and how baby wearing has affected our lives. How many adjectives can I come up with to fill 350 words about how amazing it is to nurse your baby while you brush your teeth?! :)

Happy weekend, friends. Is there anything you hope to accomplish over this weekend?

We are going to start the hard transition of moving Elodie to her own room, to sleep in her crib. I have a feeling there will be a lot of tears. From ME :)

We are also spending time with family, taking Elodie to one of my childhood watering holes, and I'm going to read up on this blog I came across when searching for Wallflower lyrics from middle school. Random, right? I love the internet for those very reasons.
The words in the photo of the girl came from a song on that blog, and I just so happened to stumble across it this evening as I was putting these words together to put here.

Sometimes I guess the stars and moon align, and we are blessed with tiny reminders of who we are, and who we want to be. Be kind, friends. Our words and actions leave bigger marks than we allow ourselves to think.

Finding my style.

2011-06-20T17:40:00.000-05:00

Top: Target, 2006
Skirt: Lilla P, 2011
Boots: Target, 2011
Scarf: TJ Maxx, 2006
Belt: Thrifted, 2010
Sling: Sakura Bloom

Round One of the Styleathon - How Becoming a Mother Has Affected My Style.

Thank you, Dads.

2011-06-19T19:04:00.002-05:00

Happy day, to the important men in my life.

Grandpa.

Every old bike with a basket on the back will be my happy memory of Grandpa, long after he is gone and my hair has turned gray.
Those baskets collected cans for extra pennies, me, on our trips to the duck pond and park, and now they carry well water from miles away (please stop riding your bike 15 miles, you're 88 years old, Grandpa).

From him, I have learned my own love of bicycles. I have learned to find calm in my heart. An avid dumpster diver, he taught me to breathe life into the old and forgotten. And most importatly, Grandpa taught me to be a story teller. To close my eyes and draw my words from the memories in my heart.

Daddy.

Sometimes I worried that I would never find another man to hold such a big piece of my heart. My dad held my hand when we walked until I was a teenager, and still kisses me on top of my head every time he sees me.
From my Dad I learned a love of photography, adventure, and a world of patience. He is the most accepting, open-minded man I know, and always allowed me to spread my wings and fly to my own adventures....as long as I always knew the way to fly home.
Thank you for always holding my hand. In more ways than one.

Doug.

My Father-In-Law, who gave me the best advice I have ever heard about parenting. He told me that the best gift that I could ever give my children would be to love their Dad. Happiness from the heart of the family spread like sunshine to every part of the lives it touches.

Michael.

I couldn't have found a better opposite to ground me and balance out my differences to raise Elodie. I hope that somewhere down the line, she will grow up to realize that because we were the sun and moon, somehow our lives sang a moving tune in perfect harmony. Sometimes she will be me, hot, gold, and burning. And sometimes she will be him, cool, calm, and gray.

The morning that Elodie was born, he stayed by my side the entire 12 hours and pulled me back down to Earth when I thought I had surely left my own body. A constant anchor that never changes, but only sways in the wind. Happy first Father's Day.

The wind comes sweeping down the plain... (part 2)

2011-06-15T11:48:00.011-05:00

Yesterday was a normal, hot, Oklahoma-Summer kind of day. The temperature hit 100 degrees and Elodie and I stayed in most of the day, under the air conditioning on the couch. In the evening the temperature started to cool down and it was like it was Spring again. Clouds covered the sky and we laid in the hammock until her cheeks turned pink.

When I came inside to start dinner, I heard thunder, and already in my head, I was excited about our evening. Michael would be home from work at 7:30, dinner would be ready, Elodie would be bathed and in bed, and we would have a date night - backed by the sound of one of our sweet Summer thunderstorms.

I went outside to take video of the storm coming in. The clouds whirled in a sea of gray and the family of grackles - Mama & Papa bird, and their three babies chattered in the Bradford Pear tree behind our house. I took video of them, dancing, whistling, singing. I have been taping them for the last few weeks. Leaving the shelter of their home, black silhouettes against our beautiful sky.

Twenty minutes after Michael got home, the wind started to tear through the sky and we lost power. The house went dark, my music turned off, and the stove turned cold.

And then the most powerful storm I have ever been in ripped through our neighborhood and took everything in it's path. For half an hour, hail almost the size of tennis balls, 85 mile per hour winds, and heavy rain poured down onto our house. I have lived in Oklahoma my entire life, been in hundreds of tornado warnings and never once have I seen anything like it. Our trees bent and snapped, our window screens were bent and ripped from the frames, and I couldn't do anything but stand in the window, videotaping and watching something so powerful that I had absolutely no control of.

When it was over, we went outside to see what had happened to our little yard and house.

Outside, we found the shredded remains of the plants and flowers I spent the last few months nurturing. Our willow tree lost almost all it's branches, and there was a fence in our yard that did not belong to us, or any of our neighbors.

The wind picked up again, and the storm was coming back. Originally it had come from the North and destroyed our back yard. This time we felt it coming from the South, and we ran back inside before the second round of hail, high winds, and rain came through and did more damage.

When it was over, the sun started to come out and the air was still and calm. There was still rain falling, big glassy beads shining in the sunshine.

Other than crushed shutters, downed fences, ripped screens, and this hole in our house, we got lucky. Our neighbor lost a few windows from the huge hail, and their house flooded.

Most of our damage came to our little yard...my gardens.

I walked through the yard with a sad feeling in the pit of my stomach. My sunflower garden laid destroyed, before it ever had a chance to bloom into a field of yellow.

My saddest discovery came with the realization that most of the giant Bradford Pear was gone. The sweet Spring blooms I clip to bring inside, the flat green plates it formed in the Summer, that burned bright and red by Fall. And the family of grackles.

Mama and Papa bird were flying frantically from tree to tree, circling our street looking for their babies.
I held E a little bit tighter and felt an overwhelming guilt for so strongly mourning a patch of lost sunflowers.

When night rolled around and our power still wasn't back on, we packed up with flashlights and headed to my parents house.

I thought about our June 14th storm. Living in a state with storms so strong that 35,000 homes were left without power. Just like the song says, every Spring and Summer, wind, hail, tornadoes, and rain sweep down our plains and leave destruction. And every year, like a haunting reminder, we realize that we are part of something bigger than our every day.

The world keeps spinning, the grackles will have a new brood of babies, and even my sunflower patch will grow back, next Summer.

Today, I am thankful for our health, insurance, and weather so bad, that the good seems that much sweeter.

Also read: Where the Wind Comes Sweeping Down the Plain - May 2010

A mess of photos - Early Summer

2011-06-12T07:49:00.006-05:00

Late nights in the hammock, under the stars and twinkle lights.

Radishes, lettuce & strawberries from the garden.

Russian sage, lavender, peonies, and yucca around the yard.

colorful pots...

...tiny ants on my sunflowers,

and cannas outside my kitchen window.

My hens&chicks from last Summer. I brought my pot inside during the cold months and ended up with a new school of plants.

Some of my wildflowers, in the flower garden.

Watering the garden, a little spider and it's web that I didn't see until they got wet.

Two leaves of catnip - one for each cat, Fig & Olive. I bring them inside for them at night, and I like to tell myself that they know I planted that catnip, just for them.

A drowning in the backyard.

Inside a rain-filled hole dug for hammock posts, this little mouse was no more.

A baby so precious, to erase mental images of drowned mice.

I dream about these evenings, all day long.

An old photo.

Uncle Zabi, Grandma, and the cousins. The little peanut with the cinnamon roll bellybutton is me. My sister is standing next to us with her wild hair in her face.

Cousins.

A gift for a friend.

and Grandma & Grandpa's house. Clothes lines, tiny hand-made greenhouses over the garden...

...Grandma feeding the birds bits of bread tucked into her shirt, a kitchen window mango, and Grandpa....being Grandpa.

How was your weekend, friends? Anything exciting happen?

Mine is just beginning, and today is day one of three to relax, clean, work in the yard, and warm up that hammock.

Last week Leigh from Marvelous Kiddo announced our round one assignments for the styleathon. How becoming a Mother has affected our style.
I was just going to scrap the 350 word requirement and post a picture of me in sweat pants with no make up and dried breast milk in my hair, but I figured that wasn't exactly what they were looking for :) The truth is, I don't feel nearly as fancy as I used to, and time spent getting ready doesn't feel quite the same since E came around. In the mornings, I love to pick out her outfits, fix her hair, and make her laugh. Those sweet moments take up a lot of the time I used to spend getting myself ready - but there are still little bits of me lost somewhere in here. Last week I wrote my 350 words about how becoming a Mother has changed my style, so look for that post later on this week.

I feel so grateful and newly inspired to be part of this styleathon. I am taken back to the creative writing class I took 4 times in high school when I was first learning how much I loved to piece together words and sentences to form something powerful. Writing from my heart has always been something I come back to, beginning with the days of my childhood where I wrote my very first book....about puppies and kittens :) My Mom still has it, almost 25 years later. To this day I still dream of writing my book, but for now, this space is my absolute outlet of that dream.
I know the styleathon is a competition, but I am not in the least bit competitive by nature and I am just excited to be along for this ride with the handful of other talented Mama's involved - Elizabeth, Joanna, Danielle, Natalie, James, Jen, Sharmadean, and Melisa.

Leigh is also hosting a giveaway (ending tonight) for a Sakura Bloom Sling and $250 Lilla P gift card.

I hope you all enjoy your sleepy Sunday, and the start to this (already) hot Summer.

Lately.

2011-06-06T12:37:00.014-05:00

Hello, friends.
How has your week been?

Around here, we're already in the mid-90's, and our Summer has officially begun.

Memorial Weekend was a relaxing treat with a little road trip out of town. This weekend is also proving to be just as relaxing - with a patio night with some good friends, some yard work, and a concert in the park.

We have been busy fixing up the backyard, and enjoying these early hot days before the temperatures (and mosquitoes) get too unbearable.
It took a couple years of my persistent pestering (and maybe begging, at times), and finally, finally, my dear husband has built me a beautiful hammock.

My break has included lots of time spent in this very spot. Elodie loves it, and falls fast asleep swinging with us in the hammock. I think we will be spending lots of days and nights out here, enjoying a little peace and calm.

Baby Elle has officially found her hands. Along with constantly staring at them and trying to eat them, she favors opening her palm and pushing it against my mouth, where it is met with a thousand kisses. This child is so precious, and I feel so lucky that she is part of our family. Watching her learn, grow, and become her own little person has been a beautiful process, and we're only 2 months into the rest of our lives, watching and learning from our sweet daughter.

A lot of you have been asking about similar things, lately, and I thought I would answer a few FAQ's around the blog.

El said...
Aura Joon,

If you don't mind me asking, I'm curious- are you planning to teach Elodie Farsi? If so, how?

Love your posts.

~Elham

Salam, Elham Joon.

We will of course be teaching Elodie how to speak Farsi. Knowledge is such a beautiful gift, and I especially feel that way about language.
I speak to Elodie in Farsi, and English. Normally I will say a phrase to her in English, then repeat it in Farsi. I have a little diaper change song that I sing to her, and it goes:

Elodie, you are Mommy's little bumble bee.
Elodie, zamboor-eh cucheloo hastee.
(you are a little bee)

I've also asked my Mom to only speak to her in Farsi, and Grandma doesn't speak English at all, so I'm sure she'll pick up plenty from her.

Petals&Twigs said...

thanks for sharing all these stories. i have recently discovered your blog and enjoy every bit of it. what type of carrier are you using?

I'm a huge fan of baby-wearing. Huge. There are so many benefits to wearing your baby, and I knew my favorite baby-gear purchase would be carriers. I wanted her to be able to go everywhere with us, and to see things the way we see them.

The first carrier we bought was a Moby Wrap, and I wasn't a fan of it. It was about ten miles of fabric, and it was so inconvenient to wrap myself up in it when I was running errands. We bought an Ergo carrier next, and I love it. It's sturdy and secure, it has a sun shade, and pockets for wash cloths, your phone, pacis, and anything else you need. I love our Ergo for walks, hikes, and vacuuming :)

The carrier I've been wearing in the last few posts is a ring sling, and it's a Sakura Bloom. It's from their Essential Linen line.
It has been the freedom I have been looking for, while still being pretty. I cannot say enough good things about this sling, and wearing your baby in general. I love to see an interest in something that other cultures have been practicing for years.
I'd suggest looking into the differences between all the different kinds of carriers, and choosing what is best for you.

Here is a chart on some basic comparisons of different carriers.

Anonymous said...

my ex husband took my son from me when we split up. he won full custody when my son was a baby. i was seeing him every other weekend now every saturday. i thought seeing him every week would be good but he is almost 8 and it's like we aren't close anymore. i don't know what happened. but he will say things to me like he didn't want to come that day and stuff. it breaks my heart. i don't know if his dad is telling him things or what. but i only see him a few hours on saturdays.. sometimes i get to go to his games. he lives an hour and a half away. any tips for something like this? his dad has a lot of money had had a great lawyer when he won and i didnt have anything. my son used to cry when he was younger and had to leave but now he don't mind. and he always has smart things to say to me. it's like i am not good enough or have enough. what do i do??

Anonymous, I am flattered that you think I would have a solution for this, but honestly, I have never been in this type of situation and don't have an answer for you.
I hope that you can keep communication open with your son, and express to him how you feel. Even though he is young, children still understand and comprehend a lot of what goes on around them, and it can't hurt to let him know how you are feeling.

Anonymous said...

Curious as to what you and your husband have planned as far as moving out of state, now that Ms Elodie is here? I'm sure it will be a gut-wrenching decision either way. Thanks for sharing your beautiful life with the world. - Miss J

Miss J- We're just taking it one step at a time, and still searching for home. That might mean that we stay here until we're old and gray, or it might mean that we'll leave when Michael is done with school. Either way, our first priority is baby E. And right now, taking her away from her little village is not really an option. And I think every one knows that I couldn't possibly function without my family :)

Anonymous said...

What happened to your dream of starting your business so you could stay at home with your baby? Why are you making the choice to let someone else raise your kid?

Oh my. Okay, here goes.

I don't think I ever specifically said that I would become a stay-at-home-Mom when I started my business. I wanted to do it so I could spend more time with her, and not be away from home 5 days a week. It's not in my nature to be home, and I get really terrible cabin fever and crave the adult interaction I get from my job. I really respect women who make the choice to quit their jobs and run their home like a well-oiled machine, but that is not for me. When I decided to start my business, it was with the intention that I would always still work behind the chair at the salon, part-time. And that I am doing.
Now that I'm back at work, I am only working 24 hours a week. I have 3 days home with Elodie, and she is with my Mom & Grandma the days I am at work.

As far as letting "someone else raise my kid," I hardly consider leaving my kid with the women that raised me as anything but wonderful. I made the best decision for my family, and I'd suggest you maybe not criticize someone's parenting choices :) Mamas tend to get a little defensive when they think a complete stranger that knows nothing about them is over-stepping their boundaries.

I put my shop on hold because I had a baby. It takes a lot of work to open an online boutique, and the hours and hours I need to invest in it come second to spending time with my child, right now. Hopefully it will be up and running over the next few weeks.

Anonymous said...

i expect my second baby in 2 months. we all have 12 months long maternity here in Slovenia, Europe. How long is it in the USA? do you have "special" kindergarten for little babies? :-)

I think we get 8 weeks here, on average. But that didn't apply for me. I am self-employed, so I actually got zero days of paid leave. Not only that, but I still had to pay for my booth at the salon while I was gone. Ouch.
Our special kindergarten is just daycare, and there are lot of tiny, tiny babies there. My sister had to leave my nephew at 6 weeks. It's so sad, because I know that we are really behind a lot of other countries as far as maternity leave goes. Hopefully the future will be better for new Moms in the US.

Cheryl McCormick said...

Okay, so, I thought of asking you for some help, since I've been spending some long hot and hard days in my backyard! Yesterday, I pulled weeds around the concrete slabs in my backyard, it was probably the hardest thing ever!!! I pulled them all by hand too, no weed eater, and with that, came lots of scary little critters, from these weeds!! Question, how to keep the weeds away without killing grass? And how often or fast will they grow back, or how often should i make sure to trim them back? I know lots of info. But I needed to ask you, considering you are amazing at this! Thanks love!

My husband is in charge of those kinds of weeds! I just pull weeds from my garden, and they're never that bad. I am outside every single day, watering and working in the yard. So if you pull them while they're still manageable, they don't get out of hand.
One suggestion I have is to water first. I've watched him pull the big clumps of weeds from the yard, and if the soil is wet, they come up easier without ripping up the roots, which leave room for them to grow back.

Jack said...

Where are you getting these cute striped maxi dresses?!? Love it :)

Forever21! I got so many questions about these dresses. I mostly just wear them around the house. They were $14 and I live in dresses in the Summer, so they're my go-to. I've been gardening, sleeping, and laying around in them, and they are just about the closest thing to feeling naked because of how comfortable they are. They're perfect for nursing, and I thought they were pretty cute in the process. I just bought them right after E was born (pretty forgiving on those extra baby pounds) so they're probably still in stores. I looked on their website and they're just down to the mustard/cream and the black/white stripe. Here is a link if you're interested. I must warn you, they are pretty close to see-through. Which makes them great for comfort, as a beach/pool coverup, or at a cookout. But maybe not so much for work or school.

Anonymous said...

Can you write everyday?

That's sweet, thank you. I don't think I could do the every-day blogging thing. I feel like what I would have to say would lose it's importance. So many bloggers seem to force out a post every day just for the visits and sake of having content. It's not really my style.
When I write, it's usually a product of something I scribbled on the weekends. "It Takes a Village" was hand-written (with one hand) in my backyard on the swing with Elodie the night before I went back to work. I really prefer writing whenever I feel inspired to do so.
In the cold months, I tend to write for myself a lot more. My mind is busy and I am trapped inside, feeling a bit tinged with anxiety and ready to spread my wings. When it gets warmer, I tend to post more photos, and my minutes are scarce because I can't tie myself down to the computer when the weather is beautiful. So I tell my stories the best way I know how in the smallest amount of time - through my lens.

Anonymous said...

hello aura! i have tried looking up but i dont think you have answered it. sorry if you have but i wanted to know which camera tripod do you use?

A friend is actually borrowing my tripod right now, and I can't remember the brand! I'm sorry. It's from Best Buy, and a friend bought it for me (the one who is borrowing it). I can't imagine that there is much difference between them all, but I could be terribly wrong. I use mine for photographing things around the house, items for the shop, etc. Oh, and all the photos in Dressing the Bump :) I know it's not a top of the line tripod but it has been great and done everything I needed it to for those instances.

Anonymous said...

will you please share some recipes for that yummy looking persian food?? it looks so simple but so tasty. i am trying to cook more healthy things at home and i LOVE chickpeas but have never made them at home. please share!!

If you are interested in cooking real Persian food, I have only one book to recommend for you. You will never, ever need anything else.
Growing up, my family always cooked from their hearts. In Yazd, there were no recipes written down for the meals that had been passed down for generations. One day while I was in a Mediterranean grocery store, I saw a book called Food of Life. I'm normally not a cookbook purchaser, but when I flipped through the pages, I thought my heart would surely leap out of my chest. Reading the first few pages of the book actually made me emotional, to hear the author's account of what food meant to their family, and to see the beautiful photos that I had seen before, in our own home. In our culture, cooking and providing meals for your family is a huge part of who we are. And so much love and thought is put into each little detail.
Even the title gives me a lump in my throat, translated from the Farsi phrase "nush-e jan," a sweet wish that you will enjoy the meal, and something I heard my family say as a child.

Some of the recipes in this book are 4,000 years old. When I brought it home to show my family, they sat around the book for an hour, excitedly squealing and pointing out recipes for meals they had enjoyed as children, themselves. I imagine seeing something like these recipes written down was incredibly nostalgic.

So if you're interested in Persian food, please consider this book. It has so many sweet stories, poetry, and beautiful photos entwined into the pages, that it almost feels more like a peek into the culture than an actual cookbook.

Betsy said...

Is that diaper bag the Scout, by Petunia Pickle Bottom???

Good eye, Betsy :) When we started talking about a diaper bag, we knew we wanted something we could both carry, without one of us (Michael) looking a bit silly carrying a pink purse. I'm not overly girlie myself, and also wanted something neutral that we could use later as luggage. We looked a lot at Fossil leather bags, but didn't quite find anything we really liked. For our baby shower, my sister gave us this diaper bag. We. Love. It. It has separate inserts for the inside, so you can even use it as a laptop bag. And how cute is this? It makes the perfect bag for any photographer.

C'est Moi said...

Hey girl,

Quick question about your baby tent; it's the Peapod, right? What model and why did you choose it? I'm so confused because they offer so many models and I'm not sure what the difference is between them?

Aren't these tiny tents just precious? Ours was a baby shower gift from a friend, so we didn't have to make any decisions on the model. It's the Peapod Lite - P001.

erin d. said...

Dear Aura,

I'm due for my first baby this August and I'm starting to panic. As a new mom, what baby items do you feel you couldn't live without, and how do you know what to do?

Honestly, I think the only 5 things I religiously use are washcloths, a carrier, diapers, swaddle blankets, and my boobs. Pretty simple.

I put off our registry until a week before our baby shower, after much hounding from my sister. She even made me a 3 page list of all the things she thought I needed. What it came down to was that Michael and I decided we didn't want a lot of "stuff" for Elodie. The baby industry is booming for a reason - they make you think you need these things, and you buy them. Just as simple as that. Our registry was very small. Mostly things like pajamas, wash cloths, diapers, and bath items. And even then, half the bath stuff went back to the store because I just wash Elodie with a bar of my own natural oatmeal soap. We got a giant box of baby wipes, and I used about five before we decided to just use a warm, wet washcloth. We never bought little mittens to keep her from scratching her face, I laughed at the thought of a diaper pail, and I just file her tiny fingernails with my own nail file.

Babies don't need much. Children don't even need much. The constant desire to provide our kids with everything new and exciting out there is just creating an un closeable gap for them in their search of wanting more and more as they get older. Just provide them with the basic needs, food, shelter, love. I promise that in 30 years your child will not be mad at you or screwed up for not buying every little thing that Target and Babies R Us tells you you need to make your baby happy.

As far as what we actually use: A swing. Ours is the Lil'Lamb, and it was a hand-me-down from my sister. It's a savior when I want to put her down to eat, clean, or even work in the yard. I turn on the mobile and set her next to the open window facing the backyard so I can hear her. I turn on a cd because the music honestly annoys me :) One setting is just crickets, and I love that for her naps. But otherwise I only play her our music because I'm a music snob.

Our carseat is the Keyfit30. I also love it. I hung one tiny hand-made wool bird from the handle and she talks to it all day. I was not surprised to see that she didn't need something loud, obnoxious, and overly colorful to keep her entertained.

Our stroller is the Kolcraft Countours. Michael and I both love this thing. I carry her a lot of the time, but we are always so excited to bust it out and push her around in it. Since she's still young, we just pop our carseat into it (the seat it comes with is removable) and go.

We use a bassinet, also a hand-me-down from my sister. It's in our room next to my side of the bed, and Elodie has been sleeping there since day one. When she's not in bed with us :) She'll be in it for a couple more weeks and then she's off to her own room, to sleep in her crib.

Everything else that you need, you will realize with time. I didn't even use our baby bathtub for almost 2 months because I either washed her in the sink, or with me in the tub. I'd really suggest just buying the basic things, and getting everything else as you come across the need for them.

Victoria said...

I know you get so many questions about your photos, but I would so love to know how you photograph your family with that sunflare. Do you use a tripod or ask someone to shoot it for you? What setting do you use? Congratulations on a beautiful new chapter of life... I gave birth to my first (a son, Henry) on March 31, so I can relate to your every word.

I don't use the tripod for any photos of us, other than the maternity photos we took in the Fall. It's too hard to carry around, plus I'd feel kind of silly around a bunch of people setting up the tripod for a quick photo of us :) And I certainly never ask for help. Any time I have done that, people stare at my camera like it's an alien, so I gave up.

In the last 10 years that I've spent taking photos, I've had to come up with some pretty creative places to set it.

Like on the ground, tilted upwards with my purse.

Hanging from a tree branch by it's strap (seriously, that's why it's tilted) or on a rock.
I've balanced it on the hood of the car, on steps, and the backyard grill.

This one was taken on top of our stroller.
Anything can be a make-shift tripod, if you just look.

As far as flare goes, it's kind of the same thing. You can get flare from a 1 megapixel camera phone. There isn't a setting that produces it, it is from the source of light coming into your photo and where you position it that gives it flare. When you look through your lens, you can see it there. If you see it, it will be in the photo. My favorite element to work with is natural light, and I'd like to think that the flare is a little bit representative of my own personal style. So I've spent years trying to perfect it in photos.

(taken in the evening)

The best time of day to shoot it is either early morning, or evening. When the sun is closer to the horizon line, it's easier to get it in your shot and produce flare.

How do you make the moving photos?

I bought a program called Ulead Gif Animator last year, and I make them in that.

Will there be more posts on Backyard Farming?

Yes, eventually. With a new addition to the family, I have had to balance the time I have differently. And that means that she comes first, then working outside, and blogging about it last. I have quite a few posts on how to get your garden started at the top of my blog in the Backyard Farming section.

Will you share Elodie's birth story?

Hopefully, someday. I wrote it in a letter to her a few days after she was born, but that one is personal. I had a truly amazing experience, and feel so lucky that everything went well. I do hope to share it, so I can explain my experience with natural birth, and hopefully encourage other women to know that they can do the same. Right now I just need more than a few minutes to sit down and write something that important, and the time can't seem to find me. I will say that I will for sure share it, I just don't know when.

Did you have her at home?

For the first 22 weeks, we planned on having a home birth. But financially, we couldn't afford it, or the bill if we had to transfer to a hospital in case of an emergency. Insurance doesn't exactly support having a baby at home in your bath tub :) There is only one hospital in the state of Oklahoma - OU Medical Center - that allows midwife births. I was hesitant, because like most women that have seen it, The Business of Being Born scared the hospital birth out of me. But I had the most wonderful, downright amazing birth experience possible. I wore my own clothes, had the lights off, listened to my music, and labored in the tub. I ate, walked around, and made my own decisions. I wasn't hooked up to one machine, there was no unecessary intervention, and I was able to deliver naturally. In the end, I came home with a healthy baby and I was healthy myself - which is the most important thing. If you live in the Oklahoma City Metro, I'd really recommend looking into the midwives at OU Medical.

What does her name mean?

Elodie is a French name, meaning "riches."
We went back and forth on using a Persian name as her first or middle name, and ultimately decided that since we loved "Elodie" so much, that we wanted it to be her first name. French and Farsi are spoken from the same parts of the mouth, and the language rolls off the tongue in a strangely similar way. When I was pregnant, I asked Grandma and Grandpa what they thought of the name, and both of them could pronounce it like a word they'd known all along. Even though they even have trouble pronouncing my nephew's name - Brady. So we knew it was the name for us.

It is pronounced el-oh-DEE. When people stare at me in confusion, I say it's just Melody without the M, but that's not absolutely true. To hear my family say it is like music to my ears, because there are certain inflections that are lost when just taking the "M" away from Melody. I have a client that moved here from France and now teaches it at the University. I get lost in our conversation, not only because of how wonderful she is as a person, but her voice is like music itself. She has a heavy French accent, and I had her pronounce the name for me many times to make sure I was hearing it correctly. When Elodie met her for the first time, Bernadette held her and whispered sweet French words into her ears.

Her middle name - Neda, is Persian. I'm not quite ready to share it's meaning yet, because it makes me a bit weepy. And anything that makes me weepy calls for a long, wordy, emotional post that will come some day soon.

Will you be sharing photos of the nursery?

I am feeling a bit bad saying "some day" so many times, but I really will :) Here are a couple, for now.

Thank you all for your sweet words, and the support you leave here for me. The response I got on It Takes a Village was wonderful, and I loved reading all of your personal stories and accounts on the subject.
Sometimes family around is not always an option, but in those cases, you can always create your own village. Whether it is through friends, family, or any sort of child care that you can provide for your little one. As long as they know they have someone to go to when life gets hard, things will be just a little bit easier through those difficult times.

In the month of May, 95,305 of you visited this blog. 59,504 of you were new, and every month that number is climbing by the thousands. I am so happy to have all of you here, following this story. Please do say hello, anytime.

Our most exciting news this month came from a reader who let me know that Lauren Conrad had used a picture of my feet on her beauty blog.
Can you believe it? My friends have all gotten such a kick out of it, and are teasing me about my famous feet.
I took that photo with a 5 megapixel point and shoot camera, 6 years ago, on a trip to Destin, Florida.
Who knew that it would go places, some day.

I am also excited to share with you guys a project I will be working on the next couple months. I was so flattered when Leigh from Marvelous Kiddo asked me to be a part of a project for Sakura Bloom. Starting this week, myself and some pretty amazing Mama's with blogs will be taking part in the first-ever Sakura Bloom Styleathon. I absolutely adore this company and what they stand for, and can't wait to see what projects Leigh has for us.

Happy Monday, friends.

BeRightBack.

2011-05-30T23:24:00.005-05:00

The Oklahoma wildflowers are finally in bloom, waving their white flags of a passed Spring ('11).
On these days, where the seasons start to shift, I can't bring myself to spend a second longer than I need to doing anything but my list of lazy Summer promises: watering holes, picking flowers, cut-offs, watermelon, patio nights, the hammock, bare feet, and my garden.

I will be right back. For now, I need a few more days to give proper welcome to Summer 2011.

Here's to you.

PS, Melissa over at Dear Baby is on a little break from her blog to enjoy these first sweet weeks with baby Arlo, and is featuring a few guest posts. I blogged over there, last week: Life With Elodie.

It takes a village.

2011-05-23T11:20:00.007-05:00

When Michael and I started our life together, we knew that being close to our family was a priority.
In my family's culture, it's not uncommon for Grandparents to actually live with their children, and help them raise their own. When I was younger, the 6 of us - My Mom & Dad, Grandma & Grandpa, my sister and I all lived together. Sardined in University Housing apartments, as my Dad attended college. The sound of the train running through the heart of town is still a memory I feel in every part of me. After we moved out, we moved to a tiny 2-bedroom home on Berry Street. The house is long gone - torn down years ago to make room for half a million dollar homes. But when I drive past that part of town, I always remember our little house.
Set on a large plot of land, it backed up to the creek. We had a cherry tree, a fence covered in grape vines, and a huge garden. We also had two large white rabbits that kept me company, and a couple chickens and a rooster (before Grandpa ate it).

Our neighbor was Mister Powers. That's what our (barely English speaking) family called him. Dad was in school, submerged in the language. Mom was....not as great with hers :) Grandma and Grandpa only left the house to go with us on trips to the lake, picnics, and camping trips. So their English language never grew. And my sister and I were still speaking our first language - Farsi. In pre-school we started to learn our second language - English.
I think about Mister Powers, an old farmer. In his plaid shirt, white hair, and glasses, walking with a cane. Every farmer and 80 year old man I see is Mister Powers, to me now. 25 years later, his memory is still a print on a portion of my mind. I wonder if it made him laugh to see us....odd and brown, in the middle of a town picking chicken eggs and backyard farming. Sometimes I think that's what he liked about us. And the fact that those words, the sound... the sound of his name, on our unfamiliar tongues....mister powers, were our first words.

Together, we lived in that house on Berry. A strong unit, where one of us fell short, the other stood tall. And there, I learned what a babysitter was. I learned that it really does take a village to raise a child, and our village was family.

When we decided to have children of our own, I knew that I wanted my own little village to raise this child. There are things only I can offer Elodie, as her Mother. But there is another world of opportunity, learning, and love she will receive from my decision to go back to work part-time.
Every woman chooses what is best for her family, and that is a personal choice that no one is allowed to judge. I have never felt guilt over what I have decided to do for her, and us.

And on Thursday, I went back to work.

On my last day home with Elodie, I wished for peace. For leaving her, for my sanity. I wished for sleep, a calm baby, and learning to balance the new change that was about to wash over our family, like a changing tide.

Instead, Elodie woke up on the wrong side of the bed.

For three days and nights, the three days and nights before I went back to work, she was up all night, screaming during the day, and demanding to be held. It wasn't like the Elodie I really know in our quiet moments. Watching the birds fly over her, closing her eyes in the breeze. My baby finds peace in her heart, easily.

And she cried, and cried, and cried. And I cried. And begged. And nursed her and rocked her, wore her all day, sang her her favorite songs, showed her the new blooms in the garden. Still, she cried, and she didn't sleep. And I cried.

On my last day home, I took her to visit Grandma, and find my own peace in my heart.

She fed me hot tea, dried fruit & nuts, saffron rice&chicken...trying carefully to hide the chicken underneath the rice. Insisting it was good for my milk, insisting that I hated meat from the time I was a little girl. We laughed as we remembered Grandpa in his "babysitter" days.
He watched me during the day, and one day, as he tried to feed me some of his meal - dried chunks of meat and bread, I demanded as much as a 3 year old really can - "so you're some kind of babysitter, now?" Then he taught me a lesson - my Grandpa, always one of my fist teachers of life. He said, "this comes from the chickens in the backyard."
For years, I struggled with my relationship with eating meat. And even though Mom and Grandma are still pissed that he taught me a hard lesson of life so young, I was never angry at him. He was indeed, just teaching me life...and he wasn't such a bad baby sitter, after all.

25 years later, my Mom and Grandma still throw their voices in a high pitch, and repeat this, as we laugh and remember our tiny house on Berry Street. Mister Powers. The chickens.

The day before I went back to work, Grandpa split open a watermelon for us to share, as they told stories of life in Iran - watermelon and bread for dinner some nights.
I watched Grandma with Elodie, amazed by a woman who reared babies in a time and place of little resource. Still showing her innate ability to calm a baby in no time flat, I have been photographing her doing this quite often. One day I will show Elodie and she will learn the story of Aubibi-Bozorg, Great-Grandmother.

Grandpa ate his lunch by the South window, where he always sits in the sun. Bits of dried meat, and bread. Twenty five years later, an 88-year-old man is still a creature of extreme habit.

The drapes danced in the late Spring breeze.

We looked at old photos, and found this one of my parents in Germany, right before they moved to the states in '78.

Grandma, and my Mom.

A photo my Dad took of my Mom, on one of their little dates to the Caspian Sea.

....and our house on Berry Street. It catches my breath in my chest, to see the orange drapes under that window. Only a child, I realize the photo I am holding is just the way I remembered it...always printed on a piece of my mind. Every day I would rush behind the curtain to find the eggs that Moghky-joon (darling chicken) had left for me.

And in that photo, I was in the lap of my second babysitter. My teacher.
While Grandpa taught me about the parts of life that stung my skin with their reality, Grandma taught me to find love. "Chouk-Chouk, Chouk-Chouk," she called after the hens as she threw handfuls of rice and bread for them to eat.

She is holding Elodie in her lap, and somehow, she is fast asleep. For me, on my last day home before I went back to work, she cried. And cried. And cried. And I cried.
Today, she is fast asleep on Grandma's lap as she tells me a story.

After my sister was born, they left Iran to come live in tiny University housing and become a village, so they could all raise that child. And when my Uncle needed them, they left everything they knew for a second time to become his village.
In Nigeria, Africa, where my Uncle was living with his wife and two babies, they lived in a small house next to the jungle. Grandma still feels her own stings on her skin, telling me how terrified they were of where they lived. On the edge of a town surrounded by no one they knew or could communicate with, they were sandwiched between Nigeria, and the open jungle. She softens her mouth into a frown and lists the wild animals she would hear at night.

She tells me "Your Grandpa has always been a bad babysitter. One day, after our kids had gone to work, we were home with the babies and I was washing dishes. I asked him to watch them, and before I knew it, they had disappeared." She shoots him an angry glare, and he keeps eating his bread and dried bits of meat. She goes on.

"I found him sitting on the porch in the sun, drinking his tea. And they were gone. I ran into the street after them, terrified that they had gone into town. Even more terrified that they had wandered into the jungle."

She stops, and I watch pain take over her body. She rocks Elodie, and tells me that half a mile down the road, she finally found their shoes. Collapsing into tears of desperation, a little African boy came to her and pointed down the road. No lines of communication between them, she saw hope in his eyes. He ran down the road and came back with my two cousins.

Telling me this story on my last day before I went back to work, Grandma feels gratitude, all over again. She said she ran home, grabbed the little money she had, and took it to the boy. Thirty years after the day she lost her grandchildren to the jungles of Africa, she is still begging her God to bless the little boy who returned them.

My Grandmother, Elodie's Bibi-Bozorg, is the type of woman that loves any child with her entire being. When they hurt, she feels the sadness in every part of her own body. And in happiness, her heart sings to the rhythm of their laughter.

When I got back home, Elodie was calm. We watered the flowers, walked through the garden, and both soaked in the Spring air. Every May, the air in Oklahoma turns thick. And before the wave of heat washes over us and Summer comes, there are a few weeks of absolute bliss.

I spend every evening in these sweet weeks, outside.

The trees bend and warp as our evening thunderstorms and tornadoes roll through the Midwest. There are not many things I love more than the way that feels on my skin. So much that I immediately stripped Elodie down on my last evening, before I went back to work. For the first time, she will feel our late Spring roll through into the heat of Summer - she'll learn that this feels like home.

And instead of finishing my list of things to do before work in the morning (I'm learning To-Don't) we spend the rest of the evening out there. Swinging on the patio, where she fell asleep to that sweet breeze, and felt the damp night rolling through on her naked skin.

And I thought about tomorrow.
And if going back to work was right for us.
And in that very second, I remembered our house on Berry Street.

My teachers.

The ones that would teach Elodie, while I work part time to support my family. How could I ever be so stressed about a decision that suddenly seemed so right?

And I realized not only will she be just fine, but she will be even better for it. There are things that as a Mother, only I can give her. But it truly does take a village to raise a child, and I can't take that experience away from her.

She will be in the arms of a beautiful woman with a free spirit and dirt under her fingernails. One who had her picture taken by her best friend, next to the Caspian Sea.

In the arms of a teacher who taught lessons about the reality of life.
And one who would run into the streets of the jungle, crying out for babies so precious they could have been her own.

.....

Thursday I went back to work, and the world didn't end. I felt amazing, put on makeup and a cute outfit, and caught up with clients so dear to me they've become friends almost a decade in the making. I walked to lunch, turned my radio up really loud in the car...and I felt like me, again.

And that day when I came home, Elodie was still waiting for me. On the porch we swung, and it's like we never missed a beat.

When the weekend came, we celebrated our new life. We had friends over and drank beers & wine on the patio, watched the Oklahoma City Thunder in the playoffs, and spent time with family. We went to the first Summer Breeze concert series in the park, and we danced and felt Oklahoma Springtime rolling over our naked skin.

And she didn't cry. And I didn't cry.

And for the last two nights, Elodie has slept.

You can swim through every tide.

2011-05-17T18:28:00.005-05:00

Hello, friends.

I want to say that I always appreciate your sweet feedback and comments, but I especially appreciate them on my last post. There were so many wonderful, heartfelt comments in there, and I promise that I do read every single one. Even Michael loves to take time out of the day to sit and read through them all. Unfortunately about 20+ comments went missing on the day that Blogger had the hiccups, so I'm sorry if yours was one of the ones that disappeared.

I also need to address something. It was not my intention at all to necessarily call out or get back at the anonymous comment I received. Although I appreciate everyone coming to my defense, I have incredibly thick skin, and it takes a lot to hurt my feelers :) It was my intent to show that life can go on after you have a baby, and who you are does not have to change. With that being said, I also agree with anonymous, and those of you that suggested that we all do change.

I absolutely have. There are parts of me that are the same, and parts that will never be the same, again. I hope that in the next few weeks, I can be open here and share some of the hard times we have had with Elodie. Because lord knows there were bad days...and sometimes weeks. There is an ugly side to every beautiful story, and our story was no different. Becoming a parent changes you, even if you dig your claws deep and refuse it, kicking and screaming.

I also want to add that I want to continue to keep this blog a place where anyone can come to gather inspiration or find their way. Our monthly visitors are now closing in on 100,000 readers a month, and I know that a lot of you read through the comments as well as my posts. It is so easy to find support, encouragement, and new friendships in the words you all leave here. I would love it if we could all try our best to always be kind, and treat every one else with respect. Not only in the messages you leave for me, but for the ones you leave each other as well. I would hate to ever feel like something I said started a disagreement that could not be handled kindly.

Thank you, friends, and how was your weekend? We spent time with family, shopped, laid out on a blanket and listened to music at Groovefest, and walked some new trails.

I also got to spend a little time working in the yard, and pulled my first handfuls of strawberries and some lettuce from the garden. We are putting a lot of work into our landscaping/the patio this year, so pulling weeds from my veggie beds felt like visiting an old friend. And check out that mess in front of the fence on the right! That is a huge bed of volunteer sunflowers, coming back from last years spilled seeds. I hope that soon, I can find a minute to blog about backyard farming, this year.

And speaking of change, the day after tomorrow I am back at work and my maternity leave is over. This time flew by entirely too quickly, and all day I have been feeling a bit blue about the changes that are to come. But like every other milestone I have reached in my life, I know that this too will transition smoothly and life will go on...with a few extra tears. We can all swim through every tide.

Happy Tuesday, friends.

Life, Lately ...(making room for Elodie)

2011-05-10T15:39:00.005-05:00

anonymous asked: I think you wrote way back, when you'd just found out you were pregnant, that motherhood would not change you. You'd still be you, your husband would still be him, you;d still take pictures of lots of things every day...Hmmmm...still feel the same way? Doesn't sound like it :)

Dear anonymous: When you have a newborn, you're exhausted, covered in spit up, living in pajamas, and fighting post-partum hormones... sometimes you don't feel like you. But I can assure you that I am still me, and Michael is still Michael. And of course I still take photos every day! Photography is a decade-long passion of mine, and I don't go one day without my camera in my hand.

When you have a baby, it doesn't mean you will forever lose yourself, and the things you love. The most healthy thing you can do for that child is show them that you have a sense of identity, outside of them. I grew up with two parents who had a world of hobbies, passions, and love for each other.

I guess by reading this comment, I realized that I must have given the impression that something about us has changed. It hasn't. Just because Elodie is here doesn't mean my world turned completely upside down and I lost all sense of who I was. Right now, life is about learning to incorporate Elodie into every part of who we are.
We are continuing to live our life just like we had before...everything just takes a bit longer, and there are a lot more messes :) Life does not have to stop because you have a baby. You can use it as an opportunity to show these precious little sponges what life, and the things you love, are all about.

Here are a few photos from the last 6 weeks.

I am still taking photos every day, of the things I find to be beautiful. Like the tiny dried bits of last years tomato harvest...

...my handsome husband, who I am always creeping on and photographing from behind doorways and hidden in shadows. Until he catches me and flares his nostrils for ten minutes straight so I can't get even one more picture.

The best granola I have ever eaten, brought to me by my friend Megan. Who put together the sweetest after-baby care package for me - yummy acai berry chapstick, lavender soap, yoga pants, home made salsa and granola, all wrapped in brown paper and tied with a rose.

blooming trees...

...and Grandpa :)

A picture a day, so I will never forget these sweet days...

...precious little boys, chasing bubbles in Grandma's sweater.

homework on the back patio, enjoying the lovely Spring weather and sweet, tiny babes.
(and spotting my husbands gorgeous gray hairs)

watching my Mom cook traditional Persian food, and seeing a bowl of chick peas go from nothing to a whole meal.

Barley stew at Grandma and Grandpa's house on my weekly Wednesday visit. She insists it's good for my milk and fills up my bowl about three times after I tell her I'm full.
Then she tells me stories about herself when she was nursing. And how she had enough milk to feed all the babies in their neighborhood. Not only that, but she also fed all the local cats. Then she pours me another bowl of stew, hoping I will attract my own alley cats, while I try not to laugh at the thought of her Mama-catting all those Persian cats.

My Grandma, picking herbs.

Elodie is not a weight that burdens my shoulders or a ball and chain to forever ground me to the confines of sweat pants and daytime tv. She's my daughter, and I want to show her the world. It has taken me 28 years to become who I am, and even though this tiny baby has changed me in ways I never knew she could, I am still me, and Michael is still him. To show her the world, from our backyard and farther is something we dreamed of doing from the minute we found out she would be here, in 40 weeks. And so far, we are doing just that.

She goes with us on our walks. Where we will teach her to find beauty in tiny things.

I look down at her and watch shadows dance across her face from the trees. She squints, and sighs, and I know she is content to feel the sun warming her from the outside in.

She is with me in those sweet, sleepy evenings. With beautiful Oklahoma sunsets. I swing with her on the porch as our late Spring thunderstorms start to fill the air with their weight. She's feeling these things for the first time, and I get to be the one to show her that.

We take her to restaurants, festivals, and museums.

And even if she sleeps the entire time, one day she will wake up to find herself in the middle of the life we kept living, even after she was born.

At least twice a week, she comes to watering holes, hiking trails, and along on trips to play disc golf with her Dad.

Sometimes just the three of us go.

I pull little blooms of honeysuckle up to her nose, and she smells something, for the first time. I was love-sick, remembering my own midwest Summertime, as a little girl. Pulling the stems from the honeysuckle and drinking the tiny drop of absolute heaven, before the bumblebees chased me away. Some day she will do this, too. And today, she smelled honeysuckle for the first time.

Sometimes we go with friends.

And while her Dad is busy playing, I show her the way the Cottonwood trees spread tiny specks of snow across the sky. When the light catches them, I think my heart could explode with how perfect those tiny little dots really look.

We took Elodie to her first music festival, and concert. She was surrounded by 30 thousand people, and she slept the entire time.

But I still know that she felt the bass in her fingers and toes...the same way she did when I was pregnant with her. Every night I would put headphones to my belly and feel her dance.

And I know she saw the lights.

I brought her outside with me, while I gardened.

In her little tent in the shade, she waited....

...while I planted seeds, pulled weeds, and picked fresh strawberries from the garden. These days there is not much time to blog about backyard farming, but I still take the time to teach these things to Elodie.

Some days are hard. She cries all day, and I don't brush my teeth until 4 in the afternoon. I can only dream of my garden and sleep is something I don't even remember, anymore. But just like I thought there would be, there are so many good days, too.

All starting with the days that she started to look at me, and smile...and gurgle a sweet laugh from the bottom of her belly all the way to her throat and into my heart.

And when she's feeling extra sweet, she sleeps for 5 hour stretches at night, and naps during the day. Giving me time to feel like me again.

Time to sit alone for a minute with my husband and drink a glass of wine on the patio.

Time to go for a long bike ride for the first time in almost a year without being pregnant. Time to stretch my tired body that has spent 9 months stretching to grow her. It feels like waking up, again.

And time to look through old photos and laugh. To see where Elodie gets bits and pieces of me, even though she's a tiny duplicate of her Dad.
She has my nose, hair, toes, and tiny little string bean legs.

.......

anonymous wrote: I think you wrote way back, when you'd just found out you were pregnant, that motherhood would not change you. You'd still be you, your husband would still be him, you;d still take pictures of lots of things every day...Hmmmm...still feel the same way? Doesn't sound like it :)

Dear Anonymous - Yes, I do still feel the same way.

Happy Mother's Day.

2011-05-08T17:51:00.005-05:00

Last week, my Mother in Law told me that as a Mother, she made mistakes. And she also told me that I would be a better Mother than my own, and one day, Elodie would be even better than myself.

It was in this conversation that I began to understand the path of self-awareness that we take as parents. One day we are just ourselves, and that is enough. Then they place a new baby in your arms, and all of a sudden every flaw and insecurity you have in yourself is illuminated to the thousandth degree. Will we ever be good enough, in our own eyes?
Somewhere along the path of life, these little things watch and grow from us, their Mothers.

When I was a little girl, I wanted so badly to be my Mom. Not yet conscience of my acts - pretending to cook and smash berries and leaves in the backyard with a rock. Carrying around tiny shovels and learning to grow a green thumb.
I was already practicing to become my Mom, who I both desperately wanted to impress, and become at the same time.

I know now, that raising a little girl is not as simple as waving gardening gloves and kitchen knives, and somehow yielding a well-rounded young woman from it. It's about looking down into your own flaws and failures, and trying to change them so your child doesn't see, and mimic those same acts. Wishing they won't be the worst parts of you.

I see my flaws on the open, innocent face of Elodie. Hoping that she will be better, hoping she doesn't see through my daily struggle to do so. For the little girl that will one day grow up to become a better version of myself.

Happy Mother's Day.

To my Grandmother, who mothered with her love and natural instinct over everything else. Who rocked me to sleep in the same way she rocks Elodie, these days.

To my Mom, the most important woman I know. Who held her own flaws like deep rooted secrets but was so open as a book that I read her, anyway. My inspiration and every desire to one day have babies of my own, and start over this whole messy process of life.

To my sister. Who was the night to my day difference, both as little girls, then women, and now, both Mothers. Our stark contrast in personality teaches me moderation, and patience in our differences.

To my Mother in Law. Who once reminded me that no matter how much I feel like I will let Elodie down and can always do better as her Mom, she will grow up one day and not carry the same hot coals of disappointment in tight-clenched fists. She will know I did my best.

And to me, on my first Mother's Day.
Precious Elodie, I carried you in my heart my entire life, in my body for 9 months, and I will carry you through every fiber of my being for the rest of my life. You are my everything.

Festival of the Arts- Our 8th (and first) visit.

2011-04-29T10:03:00.007-05:00

In 2004, on the last week of April, Michael and I had our very first date. He took me to the Festival of the Arts in Oklahoma City, and we picked a quiet spot in a shady patch of green grass to sit and talk for hours. Every Spring we go back to that same spot, with our wonderful food in hand, and spend time enjoying the beautiful weather, and remembering how many years have passed since our first time there, together. Both shy and 21 years old, trying not to say the wrong thing and hoping we didn't have food in our teeth.

Last night we took Elodie, and it felt like the first time we were there all over again. Through her eyes, I am starting to see the world and the memories we share in a different light. Things that have started to feel routine and ordinary are becoming new and exciting, again. We are starting over with new life, a blank canvas...and showing her the beauty of life through our eyes.

With these realizations, I am also starting to become aware that one day I will also have to teach Elodie about things that are not always easy. She will have to understand change, and how we must all go through it to move through life and keep working forward.
When we went to find our spot, it was gone. All of it. The grass, the hill, and even our tree.

photo from April 2007

Ripped out, and turned into something new for a city project. It was a place I didn't recognize, and for our 8th trip to the Oklahoma City Festival of Arts, it felt like our first time. I was a little disappointed that we never got to show Elodie our spot. The place where we fell in love every year until the first year we brought her to see the shining sun through the trees, herself.

But life changes, whether we like it or not. And on a new hill, with new sod and new memories to be made, we found another spot. One that will hopefully not be ripped out anytime soon, to make way for skyscrapers and sidewalks :)

In our new spot we ate yummy Brazilian food, and candied cashews and pecans - still warm.

Elodie slept, and cried, and ate.

I watched the sunshine and shadows from the trees dancing across her tiny face.

And fell in love with this scruffy face, all over again.

And okay, maybe our new spot isn't so bad. I could probably get used to it.

We walked around the gardens for awhile, looking at all the new changes.

Elodie snoozed through the music, walk by the water, and over bridges.

She even snoozed through her Dad racing her around full speed while making car noises.

I tried to find the most plain things to eat, so she wouldn't be gassy and fussy all night. Thinking I was safe with a chicken and avocado wrap, it turned out to be fried (gassy baby), spicy (gassy baby), and covered in raw cabbage (super gassy baby). It was worth it. Even if she farted all night in her sleep and kept me up.

When the sun went down and the crowd thinned, we went to look at all the photography, paintings, sculptures, and jewelery. We spent so long there that the artists were starting to shut down their booths, and our feet were starting to hurt.

We drove home with one tired baby in the backseat - who didn't make a peep.

And so, life begins with Elodie. A first time for every dozen + times we have followed our same traditions. Life is starting over, through her new (and sleepy) eyes.

If you live in the Oklahoma City Metro, you can find information about the Festival of the Arts here, on their website. It is going on for the rest of this weekend, so stop by and eat some yummy food from all over, look at the art, and find your own shady spot to make new memories.

You are one month old, Elodie.

2011-04-27T12:59:00.002-05:00

The night my water broke, I started to shake. I was frozen with fear, not knowing what to expect next. Everything I had been calm and preparing for went out the window in the second I realized that you - my daydream, my imaginary baby - would be here in just a few hours.

When my midwife placed you on my chest, I remember the way you smelled. Even though I had never smelled you before, you still smelled familiar. Like an old tshirt or the way home smells when you first walk in after a long vacation. When you looked in my eyes, it was like I was looking through a mirror at myself. And in the same way I felt like I knew you....a set of eyes I had somehow looked into before, you knew me. Your body melted onto mine like complete relief. I have never felt more needed by something my entire life, and in that moment I realized we belonged to each other.

Elodie, you are one month old. You have started looking into my eyes, instead of me just looking into yours. In the middle of the night, half asleep and in a haze - you look into my eyes and you begin to smile. Before this, there has been nothing that burned a fire inside my heart like the moment I realized that you recognized me. I love you, I love you, a thousand times I love you. Beautiful little girl, this feels like the first day that I am alive. To know that I have created you, and you understand it.

To-Don't :

2011-04-20T20:18:00.005-05:00

Inside the working gears of my mind, there is a place that crafts together to-do lists miles long.
Goals, chores, grocery lists....all carefully comprised and organized. These parts of me thrive off of knowing I have achieved something I set out to do. And with every one thing that I cross off my list, there is a sense of accomplishment that washes over me.

My mother did, and still does the same thing. Every week she makes her cleaning lists, her lunches and dinners for the week. Vacations were always started with her long, and perfectly contrived list of items we needed. Whoever was left home was left with an equally impressive list of things to be taken care of around the house, down to what times the animals ate, and how much.

I need this game, and I play it every day.
Sometimes it feels like chains, bound tight around my throat. Only releasing if I feel that I have accomplished enough. And when I don't, and things are left undone, they weigh on my chest and closing breaths until I can hardly stand it.

...

Elodie is 3 weeks old. And in those 3 weeks I have only taken 2 naps. Both involuntary, and a product of falling asleep in the middle of what I was doing. Elodie is 3 weeks old, and I still struggle to let go of these stupid lists to just hold her for half of my day. In three weeks I have gotten a lot of things done. Laundry is done every day, the house is vacuumed and trash is taken out. And at the end of the night I miss her. I want to scoop her up and feel her skin on me, her tiny rising chest and sweet smell surrounding me.

In the same dark holes of my mind where I make my lists and hold my disappointments in myself, there is a place that reasons and argues over spoiling her with all of the love and time I have to give. In these places I realize how critical I can be of myself. All this doubt and fear and worry pools and collects until it forms a hot coal of failure. Failure in knowing that no matter how hard I try to do this all right and perfect, things will always go wrong. No doubt because I have turned to my methods of analyzing everything to death - instead of just doing what feels right.

Elodie is 3 weeks old. Each day she teaches me something about myself, a voice louder than one I have heard before. Her voice drowns the disappointment, it drowns the lists, and it drowns my doubt in myself. A tiny voice, sometimes it comes out only in a drawn-out, breathy, "haaaaa" that trails into a sweet yawn that melts my heart into an open sea.

I have 3 more weeks home with her. These will be the only first weeks. Ones that I will remember in 30 years, when she is having babies of her own. Ones that I will cry and wish to have back, when I am drowning in my to-do lists, chains bound tight around my neck.
If nothing changes, we will always stay the same. And sometimes that is the worst thing we can do for ourselves.

Today, and tomorrow, and for the rest of my time as Elodie's Mother, a to-do list will never be more important than when she just needs me to lay with her, naked, warm, and vulnerable. I will learn to let go of my lists, and throw them to the bottom of a hole marked "To-Don't."

Baby E.

2011-04-08T15:25:00.002-05:00

In one week we have taken you on walks, cuddled, been pooped on, gone to the Medieval Fair, and barely slept. Baby E - we love you more than we could have ever imagined. You are my sunshine every single morning, and my moon at night. We can't wait to experience all your firsts.

Dear friends - thank you, thank you, thank you for all your sweet words, I read every single one. Mostly in the middle of the night, when I can peel myself away from her to catch my breath and resume what life was like before she was here. I'll be quiet for a couple more weeks, I am trying to be present in all these first moments.

See you soon.

Life began when I saw your face.

2011-04-01T05:01:00.003-05:00

She's here.

Please meet Miss Elodie, born March 29th at 11:20am.

Friends, I will tell you all about it, soon. For now, there are not enough minutes in the day to peel me away.

Happy Weekend, Friends.

2011-03-25T10:57:00.003-05:00

Any fun plans?

I'm about to head outside and get started in the garden. It's time to break in my new gardening boots (my old polka dotted ones made it 5 years) and feel some sunshine on my shoulders.
If you'd like some tips on getting your gardens started this year, you can visit a few posts I did last season on Backyard Farming.

Our first week of Spring (and my first day of freedom)

2011-03-24T11:08:00.004-05:00

As of yesterday at 4:00pm, I am officially on maternity leave for 56 glorious days. Working on my feet up until 9 days before my due date has not been easy, and I am so thankful to have some time to rest before she gets here.
Since my midwife ordered me off my bike at 37 weeks, I have taken up long walks with Michael to get some energy out and get my circulation moving. Nothing feels better than getting some fresh air and stretching my stiff body. The last couple weeks I've tagged along as he plays disc golf a couple times a week - and I absolutely cannot complain.

The course is 2 miles of thick trees and open fields where I can just get lost and appreciate the first promises of Spring. It completely renews me to watch everything start to bloom. Between dead grass and empty, bare trees that are only bones left from Winter, the tiniest bright blooms and leaves are starting to sprout. The breeze is cool and the sun is warm, and soon enough, everything will be alive again.

This morning before Michael left for school, he said "happy first day of freedom." There is something silly about it, because even though our days are always ours, and we chose what we do and where we go in life, maternity leave feels a bit like the first day of Summer vacation. I haven't had this long off in over 10 years - I started working when I was in high school and have worked/gone to school ever since.

So really, it does feel like complete freedom. And even though my days will be busy with a newborn, cooking, keeping the house clean, and taking care of my shop, there will also be so many wonderful, lazy moments I am so excited to begin. Digging in the yard, sweet sunshine, open windows and my favorite music, shopping the farmer's market, and gardening. Taking photos, long walks with the little one, and hours on the back patio, wasting our minutes away.

Last week I decided that I would pass on this years Arts Market, which was both relieving and sad for me. I was looking forward to using the money towards a new camera, but lately, I am learning to put my relaxation and priorities in line before everything else. I would have had one month from now to get all my products ready, but instead, I have decided that my list of laying in the sun, gardening, and walks will come first. This is my 6th year that I have had my camera, and I guess I can always stretch it a bit longer. My old lady is still going strong, even if she's terribly outdated and behind on all the fancy things she could be doing compared to newer SLR's.

Today, for my first day of "freedom," I am going grocery shopping to stock up on all my favorite yummy foods. I am going to stop by Grandma & Grandpa's to split open a cantaloupe I bought Grandpa for his 88th birthday, write a letter to a friend, clean a bit, and then sit on the patio and start laying out my garden plan for the season.

So far, my first week of Spring feels absolutely right. And just like every other year when this time begins, I am appreciative and completely sound in how good life really is.

A photo a day (starting a 365 project)

2011-03-21T19:03:00.005-05:00

I think starting a project like this is a lot like a forgotten New Years Resolution. Everyone starts out with good intentions, and then just as quickly as things began, those good intentions fade into forgotten promises.

I take photos every single day. What I post here is not even half of the things I keep for myself. Personal albums full of family photos, small adventures, and details around our house. For me, starting a project like this is simple in the sense that I am already looking through the lens every day - but almost overwhelming when it comes to choosing just one photo to sum up what that 24 hours meant to me.

There is a quote that says:

"And above all, watch with glittering eyes the whole world around you because the greatest secrets are always hidden in the most unlikely places. Those who don't believe in magic will never find it." -Roald Dahl

And so true it is. Here is an article on how to find beauty in life. A good guideline to inspire you to see things a bit clearer.
But I promise you that looking too far into something like that will not help you find that beauty at all. In fact there is a small irony in trying to teach someone to see the world through different eyes. How can you really teach something that can only be felt in your heart? It's like teaching someone to find happiness, when the only true path there is to stop looking for it.

"If you observe a really happy man you will find him building a boat, writing a symphony, educating his son, growing double dahlias in his garden or looking for dinosaur eggs in the Gobi desert. He will not be searching for happiness as if it were a collar button that has rolled under the radiator. He will not be striving for it as a goal in itself. He will have become aware that he is happy in the course of living life twenty-four crowded hours of the day." -W. Beran Wolfe

Today was a busy day...an end to a busy weekend that left me feeling more tired than rested. I spent the day yesterday pulling weeds and planting new lavender bushes around the patio, and today I felt every bit of 9 months pregnant.

Tonight when evening started to roll around, I realized I hadn't taken one photograph. In that moment the only thing to do was to quiet my mind and look around at what I was thankful for, today. In the end to this busy day, there was such a calm moment in where I was. The breeze outside is so sweet that it almost feels like it is coming straight off the ocean. With all the windows open in the house, sheer drapes gently swaying, everything seems right.

Today, on my brand new day, I am finding beauty in those swaying drapes. The shades of green in every room of our house, finished packages for friends who live miles away, and new garden boots waiting to be worn in and used this season. Soft, evening light through all the open windows, that biting breeze, and the beautiful, quiet moments that come with realizations at the end of a busy weekend.

If you are planning on starting your own 365 project, remember that you don't need to go looking for something beautiful to photograph. There is already so much around you, waiting to be seen and appreciated. These small, quiet details of your day are the ones that we too often forget about by the end of our year. But they are the ones that make our days truly count. We should not remember only the big moments that take place, or else our memories by the end of our years will only fit on our fingers and toes. There are many other moments that slip through our hands and are often long forgotten, like our New Years Resolutions.

Today, on your brand new day, slow down and see the world around you for what it really is. Mundane, ordinary, and absolutely perfect in these still moments.

Our New Year (the first day of Spring)

2011-03-20T10:56:00.007-05:00

When I was a little girl, I always felt so lucky to get to celebrate one extra holiday a year. Every March, on the first day of Spring, we would celebrate our Persian New Year. Today is the first day of the year in our calendar, and a day to celebrate Nowruz. It is the first day of Spring, and from the time I was young, I always wondered why my American friends celebrated the first day of the year on a cold, dark day in January.

"Nowruz is the most important holiday in Iran. Preparations for Nowruz begin in the month Esfand, the last month of winter in the Persian solar calendar.

Spring cleaning, or Khouneh Tekouni (literally means 'shaking the house') or 'complete cleaning of the house' is commonly performed before Nowruz. Persians start preparing for the Nowruz with a major spring-cleaning of their houses, the purchase of new clothes to wear for the new year and the purchase of flowers.

In association with the "rebirth of nature", extensive spring-cleaning is a national tradition observed by almost every household in Iran. This is also extended to personal attire, and it is customary to buy at least one set of new clothes. On the New Year's Day, families dress in their new clothes and start the twelve-day celebrations by visiting the elders of their family, then the rest of their family and finally their friends. On the thirteenth day families leave their homes and picnic outdoors."

This week my Mom and Dad came over to help do the deep cleaning of our house. These days I'm not good of much of anything but doing dishes and vacuuming, and getting down on my hands and knees to scrub is out of the question. I started my cleaning a few weeks ago, emptying closets and getting rid of extra clutter around the house before I knew I would be too tired, and entirely too pregnant to do anything. We had our carpets cleaned Monday, and on Thursday they came over and my Mom scrubbed every corner of our house spotless, while my Dad planted a few new shrubs in the yard.

Everything feels light, new, and ready for the start of new life. Vases around the house are filled with blooms and flowers, the windows are all open, and there is an overall sense of readiness and peace around our house.

We celebrated Nowruz a day early, yesterday. Here are the traditions we follow on the first day of the year.

Nowruz always begins with a few people (usually Grandpa) napping while my Mom runs around in the kitchen, finishing the last touches on dinner. Don't worry if for a minute you thought he was dead in this picture - I had to check and make sure he was breathing before I was myself convinced that he was still alive, and ready for his 88th birthday, tomorrow.

The house is always filled with the smell of all the wonderful food being cooked. Especially the dried herbs from my Mom's garden every past Summer. I want to bottle up this smell.

The coffee table is set and prepared with the Hafstin. All the pastries carefully covered until it's time to eat.

"Haftseen (Persian: "Haftseen/Haftsā") or the seven 'S's is a traditional table setting of Nowruz, the traditional Iranian spring celebration. Today the haft seen table includes seven specific items, all starting with the seen (Sā) in the Persian alphabet. Traditionally, families attempt to set the most aesthetically appealing Haft Sîn table they can as an expression of traditional, spiritual, and social value, for visitors during Nowruz visitations. The Haft Seen items are:

1. Sabzeh - wheat, barley, mung bean or lentil sprouts growing in a dish - symbolizing rebirth
2. Samanu - sweet pudding made from wheat germ - symbolizing affluence
3. Senjed - dried oleaster fruit - symbolizing love
4. Sir - garlic - symbolizing medicine
5. Sib - apples - symbolizing beauty and health
6. Somāq - sumac fruit - symbolizing (the color of) sunrise
7. Serkeh - vinegar - symbolizing old-age and patience

The house is also filled with the smell of Sonbol (Hyacinth flowers). They remind me so much of Spring, and every year after the Hafstin comes down, my Mom plants the bulbs in her yard. On Nowruz, outside the window the Sonbols from past years bloom outside while the new ones wait on the table for their time to be planted.

We sit around for a couple hours visiting and waiting for the food to be ready. By this time we're usually starving and ready to pick at everything on the table, which is probably why my Mom keeps everything covered up. So I just wander around to take photos.

When it's finally time to eat, Grandpa is always the first to the table. We eat the traditional foods, like Sabzi Polo, fish, and Maast-o-khiar, a cold yogurt with cucumbers and herbs.

And we eat. A lot. It's like Thanksgiving for Persians, and your plate has to be filled over and over until you can barely breathe.

With our bellies full, we all squeeze onto the couch to try and get a photo together. With a handful of adults, two people in their 80's, a baby, and a couple dogs around, this always turns into a huge ordeal, and we hardly ever get a photo that every one looks good in. They usually end up looking like this:

With a little (and very little) time to make room in our bellies, the Haftsin is uncovered and it's time to snack on dried fruit, lavash bread and paneer cheese with cucumbers, and the traditional Persian sweets.

My Mom spends days preparing them all from scratch.

We sip our tea and eat plates full of them, almost dying from the overload of sweetness.

It is one of my favorite days of the year. A time to be with family, eat all my favorite foods, and make big plans for the new year ahead.

Happy New year, friends. Spring is here, and it's time to think about all the big hopes and dreams we want to set for ourselves, this year.

Every year I plan on starting a 365 project - taking one photo a day. I never feel very inspired or moved to start this on January 1st, when the world seems cold and dead. So this year, I decided I would start this project for myself on our new year.

Every day, a brand new day and opportunity to find something beautiful in the world. This morning, it was the new shrub my Dad planted for me this week.
I can't wait to put together an album of 365 photos next Spring, to see where this year will take me.

What I've been working on...

2011-03-15T21:37:00.002-05:00

Sorry for the quiet, friends. I haven't been online much, but it has really been a nice break. My mind is always so quiet when I am away from the tv and internet.

We're down to the last couple weeks until the baby is here, (any day now!) and I've been so busy trying to get everything finished. In the moments I have left, I am trying to spend my time enjoying this calm before our worlds are turned up-side-down. The weather has been so lovely, and today I spent the afternoon and evening swinging on the porch swing, getting some sunshine on my big, round belly. I am glad we have a privacy fence, because I look pretty ridiculous in my teeny bikinis, these days.

Here are a few things I've been working on around the house, and for the shop.

This weekend I washed and put away all her little clothes, blankets, and socks. Everything is in it's place, and ready to go. We're ready for you, little baby.

A peek into B + L

2011-03-09T13:25:00.004-06:00

These last few weeks I've been keeping busy around the house - ordering stock, scouring flea markets, staging, and photographing some things for the shop. I decided to finally take some of the stress off and pay a designer to build me a website with a full shopping cart, so I can focus on the parts of this business that inspired me to start it in the first place.

This week I've been working on a lookbook - a little peek into bringing the outdoors in and creating natural, simple, and inexpensive looks for your home.

With every bit of this journey into a new career, I am finding exciting new transitions into where I will take the shop. I can't wait to see where this will go over the next few years, and what I can do as this all grows and finally pieces together to build a dream I've held tight for a very long time.

But for the record, starting a new career while you still have your old one, while you're 9 months pregnant, putting together a nursery, and still trying to keep up with your day to day maybe wasn't the best idea :)

Last night I had a minute (or ten) of crying on the kitchen floor. It was my first and hopefully last breakdown of 2011. Sometimes a moment to feel sorry for yourself is all you need as a reminder that things aren't so bad, after all.

Happy Spring, lovelies. After a long, dark Winter, it is finally time for new life.

Warm-weather adventures.

2011-03-06T10:55:00.008-06:00

As these last days of Winter slip by and the days starts to get warmer and warmer, I'm left dreaming of the adventures that Summer brings. There is something so sweet about these sunshine-filled days. Long, lazy hours creep by and light fills the sky until the fireflies come out to dance at night.

This is the first Summer that I have not made any real plans for the places we will go, and what we will see. I don't quite know what to expect, but I know that I am ready and waiting in anticipation to see how our first Summer as a family of 3 unfolds.

When we were two:

We spent a lot of time by the sea. I am mostly dreaming of this again. Feeling warm sand, hot, brown shoulders and all the sounds of my favorite place to be.

The sweet romance of a Summer sunset, with the sky burning every fiery shade possible.

I'm dreaming of weekend road trips to natural springs, to dip our toes in the freezing cold water that is as clear as glass.

Fresh, mountain air - crisp, and invigorating. Trails to be found, and time to be spent centering, and finding ourselves again.

I'm dreaming of fitting into a cute pair of jean shorts, again :) Bare feet, and the freedom that comes with not being layered in 10 different pieces of clothing.

And quiet, stolen moments. Where time stands still and we are just living in that second, undisturbed and free.

Outside of these adventures, I am mostly dreaming of a normal lazy, Oklahoma Summer. Outdoor music and arts festivals, tending to my garden, bare feet on bermuda grass, and mosquitoes the size of birds. Fresh fruit from my parents trees, the gorgeous midwest sunsets, and air so thick you can barely breathe. I live for these days, and as Spring draws in closer and closer, I want to slow down time to breathe in every second of these unforgettable days.

A few posts from this past Summer:

The First Day of Summer

4th of July

Back From Market

Bringing the Outdoors In - Summer

Sometimes when you have a lot to say...

Grandma & Grandpa's House

Life Happens

What are you looking forward to this Summer, friends?

Photos from this post, from top to bottom:
Destin, Florida - 2005
Sulphur Springs, Oklahoma - 2007
Rocky Mountains, Colorado - 2008
Galveston, Texas - 2009

A busy weekend.

2011-03-02T09:08:00.005-06:00

Thank you for all the sweet advice, friends. I decided to hold back on some of the things on my weekend to-do list and just relax, working on the things I had the energy and time to do without stretching myself too thin.

I got done quite a bit of sewing, finishing two new projects.

We worked in the nursery a bit, and I was so excited to come home and find that the little one's bedding was waiting for me on the front porch.

It's so pretty, I step into her room a thousand times a day to see how everything is starting to come together. I hope she likes it.
Catherine sent along this sweet little sleep sack, and I can't wait to see her in it.

Isn't that precious? All these prints have me dreaming of our first trip to the beach.
Hopefully this Summer we can take a road trip to stick her little toes in the sand and let her feel the ocean breeze on her new skin.

We took a peek at her on the ultrasound, to make sure she was growing alright. She weighs 5 pounds, 12 ounces, and is in the 41st percentile in size. I can't believe there is an almost-6 pound baby inside of me.

{excuse the wild hair, please}

The last few days, every one has been commenting on "the drop," and how she will be a March baby instead of being here on her April 1st due date. Either way, in 30 days or less, we will have a baby. I am still trying to fully grasp the thought of that, as I'm trying to figure out these last few details to get everything in order before she's here.

We got this for her, this weekend. It's been one of the most exciting things we've bought. It gives me a little peek into the moments we can't wait to share with our little adventurer. Honestly, the "you'll never sleep," "get ready to never have a free moment" advice starts to get a bit old. It's not that I am romanticizing life how I imagine it will be, it's just that we're choosing to focus on our hiking trips, Summer concerts in the park, and quite moments as a new family of 3. I understand there will be poopy diapers and sleepless nights, but that's only a small part of the wonderful changes that are coming.

We went on a few long walks, and a bike ride to enjoy this warm, Spring weather. Probably my last bike ride, since my midwife asked that I please not waddle around on a bicycle, almost 9 months pregnant, anymore.

This weekend I also spent a few hours taking photos and getting things ready for the shop. I decided to take it offline for a couple more weeks, and let go of the stress of trying to get it up by the first of this month. It will be ready when it's ready.

Which gives me more time to stare at these two photos for an hour to decide which angle I like better.

This weekend we also saw family, ate lots of yummy Thai food and too much ice cream, ran errands, and relaxed. Maybe I didn't finish everything on my list. But I did get in some extra things like a few stolen hours to walk a few miles with my husband, pick blooming branches off the Bradford Pears, and just relax. It was just the weekend I needed.

...

Thank you to every one that has linked this blog in the last month. In February, we had 109,370 visits. Out of those, 40,454 of you were new. So hello, new friends.

A few FAQ's, recently:

Will you be keeping Petey when your baby bird arrives?

Of course! I don't think we'll ever get rid of this car. Michael is convinced that Elements are the VW bus of our generation, and he wants to always keep him around. Just this year they've decided to stop production on them, I'm guessing because of low sales... not many people want to be seen driving a microwave on wheels. But we love him. Right now we're trying to decide if we want to buy another vehicle. We had planned on getting a Subaru (yes, I am going to be the wagon-driving Mom) when we had a baby, but I don't want to have another car payment, so we're just going back and forth on it. Maybe someday soon.

Is it already warm in Oklahoma?

YES! I had to give in and shave my legs :) We always end up with another freeze after March hits, but for the most part, it has been in the 60's-upper 70's for the last couple weeks. Not to mention I'm a bit warmer than usual, so I am living in my dresses and skirts, sandals and flip-flops right now. I can not wait to start digging in my garden. I am going to wait another 2 weeks so I don't send myself into early labor, but after March 23rd (my last day at work) it's fair game and the shovel is coming out. I have a lot of work to do in the garden, this year. Some friends of ours got us one of these as a gift (amazing), and I can not wait to stick the baby in it, turn on some music in the backyard, and work away these 8 weeks that I have off work. I am daydreaming of all the beautiful things that will grow in our yard, this year :)

Where is your cream shirt from? Is it maternity?

In reference to the shirt I'm wearing in this post.
I bought it a second-hand store for $5 a couple years ago. One of those stores like Buffalo Exchange where you sell back clothing. I died when I saw it, it's probably one of my favorite shirts. I think I might have gasped when I saw it on the rack, wondering why anyone would get rid of it. It is such a thin, soft fabric and it's so comfortable.
No, it's not maternity, I'm still hanging on to my normal clothes for as long as I can! Being 5'2 helps, because everything was so long on me before that all my normal tops still cover my big belly.

Did you make the bunting in the nursery?

Yes, I made it as soon as I found out we were having a little girl. You can see it hanging on a chair in this post.
I enjoy making bunting, entirely too much. Putting the fabrics together is like Christmas morning, for me. The first string of it I made was for my sister when she found out she was having a boy.

Here is a picture of it hanging on her food table at the baby shower I held for her in December 2009. There are a couple Arts Festivals I'd like to do this Summer, and I think I'm going to make a few strands to take with me.
They can be pretty simple, depending on how much work you'd like to put into them. I just threw together a pattern and went off of that.

Where did you get the bunny in the nursery?

My Mom used to make and sell those when I was a little girl. She always had craft businesses going on, on the side. Making bows, tshirts, clothing, bunnies, wreaths, etc. It's no wonder I turned out the same way.
The one in her nursery was the one she made me when I was a little one. I am going to pass it on to baby girl, and hopefully it will stay in the family for a long time.

Do you have any tips/advice for a novice camper like myself?

Here is a checklist I made for a camping trip we went on this Summer (the one I came home knocked up, from). It was a primitive camp - no bathrooms, fire rings, tables, or designated sites. We just drove up and set up camp. If you're just starting out you might not like that a whole lot....digging a hole to poop in isn't exactly most peoples idea of a good time. But camping is such an amazing experience and wonderful way to escape from your daily routine, center, and have time to reflect on yourself and your life. Have fun!

How's Michael doing? Is he feeling nervous and excited like you?

Men are so much more disconnected from pregnancy than we are. We're the ones growing this little thing so it is on our minds 24 hours a day. When my belly started to grow, everything became more real to him, but I think that moment of falling into being a Dad comes the second they see their baby born. For now, he mostly just feels sorry for me, rubs my feet every night, and helps me roll off the couch. Everything else will come for him when he's holding her in his arms. And changing her disgusting diapers :)

Where is the Emerson print from in her nursery?

I bought all her prints off of Etsy a couple months ago. Two of them I got from an artist called The Wheatfield.
I am a big, big fan of Katie's. If you've never visited her website, please do.

She grew up on a farm in the countryside, so her work is absolutely dripping with all the same inspiration I find in our Oklahoma prairies. I tend to really love the work of artists who have similar inspiration to work with.

Where did you get all the gorgeous blankets for your fort?

The two main tapestries I bought at an Estate Sale last Spring for $4 a piece. The couple had traveled the world, and I ended up spending a whopping $200 at that sale. I have NEVER in my life spent that much at a garage sale! But it was one of the most amazing sales I have ever been to, and a friend of mine who is also an avid thrifter/garage saler and I STILL talk about that sale to this day.
A professor and his wife, they traveled the world scuba diving, collecting books, maps, old trunks, textiles, and trinkets from all over the world. Our house is filled with their treasures. It's silly, but everything I look at that belonged to them is a huge inspiration for me to keep looking for new adventures, every day. I have never seen a house filled with more life and memories, than this one.

You mentioned your site or things you make to sell...Is that public? If so where can we see your creations?

So-so :) I have been talking about it a bit more here and there. I started it last Spring and did a few Arts Festivals to get my foot in the door. My shop is:

b a r k and l e a v e s . com

It's half-way online right now, but my dream is to have a boutique, so I don't want to tie myself down too much to an online store. For now it can only be online, until Michael is finishing school and we are in a better financial situation. I don't link it much here because I feel like I'm advertising unnecessarily when my blog is more personal and not business. But if any of you are interested, there it is. And here is an interview I did on Corey's blog in January about starting up my shop.

Drink the wild air.

2011-02-25T22:22:00.003-06:00

Last year for Valentine's day, we decided to build a fort in the middle of our living room, and stay in. We watched moves, ate, and nested in it for 2 nights in a row. This year, we decided that our tradition would remain, and love-day would always be a reason to camp in the middle of our living room.

We slept in our little nest for 3 nights, and only took it down because friends were coming from out of town to stay with us. Of course Michael asked "do you think they want to sleep in the fort?!" :)

All day today, I have felt stressed and stretched thin. My weekend to-do is growing, and for now my list is:

Call insurance, sit on hold for ten hours, and find options for pediatricians

Go to the post office/mail a package

Go to the bank

Work 10:00-3:00 tomorrow

See family

Buy and write out all the thank-you cards for shower gifts

Take pictures of new products for March

Add new items to the website

Completely re-build my site, period

Sewing new items (6 headbands, 12 burp cloths, dish towels)

Midwife appointment/Ultrasound

Work on the nursery

Paint picture frames

Walk the dog

Clean

Breathe.

Are there ever enough hours in the day, friends?

I have been working feverishly to get so many things done before the weekend hits, so I can relax. But my week days seem just as full, and I'm losing my patience as night hits and things spill over into the next day. I have had no time to relax, do yoga, take a bath, or just enjoy a free minute. Work has been getting harder, and I'm finding myself more and more ready to just sit in the middle of the floor and cry like a huge baby as these last few uncomfortable weeks seem to crawl by.
Every one keeps telling me to rest, but how can my mind sleep when I know there are things to be done? I am a busy-body by nature, and even when there is nothing left to do, I will find something. Sometimes I really dislike that quality about myself, and wish for more care-free thoughts to push the worrisome ones out of my head.

Days like today, I am thankful for the beautiful people in my life that weave in and out of these moments like little sweet reminders to just breathe.
Today when I got to work, I had a gift from a friend waiting for me. A pair of little red shoes for the baby, a little bird shirt for her first few months, a new book to read, with a couple sweet notes inside, like this one.

Just what I needed today.

Last week I got a package in the mail from dear Jodi, all the way from Australia. A lovely knit blanket for the little one that I wanted to wrap up in, and a new meditation cd.

Lucky, lucky me, to have such beautiful people in my life to remind me to stop and take a moment to do the things that really matter.

I need these reminders so much on weekends like this, where one minute I swear that life will swallow me whole, and the next...I decide that half the things on my to-do list can just go. Because I need a few days to soak in the tub, read my new book, and listen to my cd.

I know that these are the things I plan to teach this little one, so why should I ask anything less for myself? Sometimes it is easier to teach through the way we live our lives, than through the words we struggle to find. These are the lessons I am already learning through being a Mother. That sometimes, I won't need to say much at all. As long as I am at peace, drinking the wild air around me, baby girl will learn the importance of stealing these sweet moments for herself, one day.

There is nothing more awakening in your heart than knowing that a little girl will be watching you, waiting to learn her lessons about life. And through my journey into Motherhood, where I should be assuming my role as her teacher, I can't help but feel like she will be teaching me so much more than I could ever know about myself.

Ready or Not.

2011-02-22T10:08:00.003-06:00

For every time I thought of this baby girl as just an idea down the road, or a distant daydream, this weekend she became very real to me. We had an appointment with our midwife and the reality sank in that she could even be here as early as 2 weeks away. It has been sending me into a panicked rush to finish her room, and do all my gardening, Spring cleaning, and organizing before she is here and my life changes forever.
Lately, I feel a tight grasp of panic and stress in my stretched-thin minutes. There are never enough hours in the day, and as each one slips by we are one day closer to the first week of April. What will our lives be like? It is only in moments like this one, where I have 30 minutes to eat my breakfast and compose these thoughts, that I realize that whether I like it or not, she is coming. I can't believe I am holding so much fear, excitement, and complete unknown confusion about this tiny little thing that I feel wiggling inside my belly. Are we ever ready for our lives to change that much in one moment?

My sister had a beautiful shower for baby girl this weekend. I am so thankful for all our friends and family and all the people who already love her and can't wait to meet her. It makes the stress of my own wandering mind hush a bit, to know that nobody else is worrying about all these changes that are coming.
I came home with a car full of beautiful things that I can't wait for her to see. There is a mountain in my living room, and as soon as I get home from work today, I will busy-beeing putting things away and cleaning, once again.

We put together her stroller this weekend, bought her mattress and crib bedding, and finally put up her 3 little white shelves we bought in Austin last month. I took all the old frames I've been collecting and had them fitted for glass, added prints I bought off etsy, and found places for them on the empty walls. Every little thing is coming together, and becoming more real by the day.

Ready or not, we will meet you soon, baby girl.

DIY Pretty White Bottles ...(and promises of Spring)

2011-02-19T12:14:00.002-06:00

You need:

a few empty, clean glass bottles

spray paint

flowers

We love root beer around here, so there's always a few bottles in the fridge.

Since I've studied color most of my life (art classes, interior design, photography, and then hair) I know that white does not mean white. There are about a thousand shades of it, and I prefer the ones that are warmer. I picked a shade called "heirloom white," which has a bit of a warm, cream tone to it.

Spray an even, light coat, and set each bottle aside to dry for a few minutes. I put about 4 coats total on each bottle.

All done! On one of our long walks last week, I gathered a few branches from trees along the way that were starting to sprout. I love these little promises of Spring, and fill my house with them every year. This branch already bloomed within 2 days of being in the warm indoors.

...

I feel huge, friends. Only 6 weeks to go, and I don't know how I could possible get any bigger. Breathing, walking, bending over, standing on my feet, and doing anything other than sleeping and eating has become quite difficult. I am thankful for this delicious Spring weather, and a chance to ride my bike and walk outdoors, again. It's been nice to stretch my wings and get some fresh air.

Happy weekend!

Snowed In... (my view of the outside)

2011-02-15T12:39:00.008-06:00

In one month, we had a week of sunshine and 70's, laying out in the yard. Two weeks of blizzards, and this week it is back in the 70's. This Oklahoma weather is so unpredictable, but I am always happy for the quick change when life starts to feel stale.
The two weeks of snow that we had, I got so much done around the house. And even though my motherly instincts told me to stay inside in my warm, cozy house with a cup a tea, the adventurer in me needed a bit of a break from staring at four walls.

Here are a few photos from our days in the snow.

I always appreciate Petey (our Honda Element) on snow days. When everyone else is stuck in snow drifts on the side of the road, we're cruising by. He has also saved quite a few stranded motorists in his day, pulling them to safety.

We've put over 50,000 miles on him, exploring a few states and heading on lots of little road trips over the last 3 years that we've had him.

Here are a few photos I snapped on my phone on the day that Michael built an igloo. My husband is a builder of everything. I threw the ball with H and kept him entertained so he wouldn't remember how cold his paws were. In the end, I could barely crawl inside because of my huge belly. We stayed out there in the freezing cold, proud of our igloo until it was almost dark. Only after Michael asked (half-jokingly) "Do you want to sleep out here, tonight?" I really did marry adventure when I said "I do." And no, I didn't sleep in the igloo in the freezing cold, 8 months pregnant.

...

This break away from the internet has been just what I needed. I've been taking pictures, working on the nursery, sending off packages, and working on stock products for the shop. My computer is actually broken at the moment, and I've been in no rush to figure out how to fix it. The moment to breathe without distraction has been wonderful, and I am going to keep up with only getting online for a couple hours a week here and there.
I can't imagine how busy our new lives will be, come April. But it is a kind of busy that I can not wait to experience.

A few questions I've been asked, lately:

What camera/lenses do you use?
I have probably been asked this question 10,000 times in my life :) Not only that, but it is the very first question on my FAQ page. You can find my response, there.

What's your skincare routine?
Not much of one at all, actually! I wash my face at night with a natural soap. Actually I wash everything with it. Michael even washes his hair with it. We buy it in bulk when we visit Austin a couple times a year. This time we came back with 28 bars :) There are tons, and tons of different companies out there that make natural soap. Here is our favorite.
Other than that, nothing. I eat really well, and that's normally the very first thing I tell people to do if they want to have good skin. You are what you eat. Here is a list of 20 good foods for good skin. Those are all huge staples in my diet, and the best skin care routine you can come up with.
I use natural exfoliating sponges, and I think that helps a lot, as well.

Do you use a tripod?
Yes, and yes. I hardly ever used to use it, but now I wonder how I ever lived without one. Especially for photos around the house.

Your toe nails are always so white! What do you use on them?
HA! I got a little laugh out of that one. Thank you! I used to never have naked toes, but over the last 2 years I have just given up on all polish. I really love short, healthy, clean nails. I think it is the best look of all. I just buff them with a regular nail buffer, and that's it. It gives them a smooth surface and shine, with no chipping or maintenance. Not to mention reaching my toes isn't as easy, anymore :)

Because you are so down to earth, would you ever consider not wearing makeup because it is so bad for your skin?
I honestly hate make up. My least favorite part of my day is putting it on. I agree that it is terrible for your skin, so I just try to keep it minimal with a loose powder that I dust on. You will never catch me wearing foundation, or anything heavy on my face.
With that being said, I think all little girls are a piece of their Mothers. Growing up, I would sit on my Mom's bed and watch her paint on all of her beautiful Lancome makeup. I feel like I have adapted a lot of my Mom's theory on style, and how we look. To me, I think it's important (but not the most important thing) to look as beautiful on the outside as we do on the inside. I don't use my makeup as a mask, and just like to accent with it. As much as I'd love to give it up, I just think I look much more polished and put together with it on. But on the weekends nothing touches my face :) Those are free days.

Where did you get the birds in the nursery? I purchased them at a local boutique. I get asked a lot of questions about where I buy things, and to be honest, I will probably be no help. I hardly ever shop online, and try to just stay around here in my favorite little local stores. And a lot of the things in our house have been here for years.

What color is the green paint on your walls? It's Ryegrass by Behr. It's the color in our kitchen, and dining room. I love it! It's more yellow during the day, and takes on an olive hint at night. I've used just about every brand of paint, and Behr hasn't been my favorite as far as quality goes, but I love the color. When we move, I think I will try to match this swatch to another brand I like, just to keep the color around.

Where did your sister get the bird pendant?
I couldn't tell you, I'm sorry. I would ask her but she bought it years ago, so I know it's long gone. I have had a bird obsession since I was a little girl, so the little bird trinkets in our house could be years and years old.
Creepy side note: When I was young, I had a fascination with dead things. Birds in particular. I found a dead one at the zoo, and my Mom let me bring it home in a cup to observe and play with for the day before I had to throw it away. Who knew that I would turn out so normal, with only a slight obsession with birds. All early signs pointed to serial killer :)

Will you be selling your prints?
I would love to. I have always wanted to, but feel overwhelmed when it comes to decisions about it. I will hopefully find a company soon that I can get my prints done through.

Don't worry, about a thing.

2011-02-11T20:31:00.005-06:00

Every day, I sing this song to my little joon.

One day I hope to teach her, either through sweet music, words, or by example, to take on each day as a new one. A beautiful fresh start and clean slate - life never really seems to be that bad when you know how many second chances you get to make each day count.

I bought these 3 little wooden birds at a local boutique the minute I saw them. I knew I would hang them in her room where she would wake up to them every day. To the music of a song she heard me sing to her a hundred times while she was still in my belly.

Today my day went from good, to no-good terrible-awful very quickly. My brain is a scattered mess and I managed to mix up two orders from the shop. On top of it, I went to pick up the totes from the screen printing company, and they were in the wrong colors.
I allowed about an hour to feel sorry for myself, and then it was time to get over it.
People make mistakes, and being in a rotten mood the rest of the night isn't really worth the hard work of staying angry. Sometimes we just need to not worry so much, and realize that everything will be okay.

A couple weeks ago, my Grandma, who speaks about 15 words of English, said to Michael:

"don't worry, be happy."

It was probably the cutest thing she has ever said, at the most appropriate time.
Grandma is such a simple person, almost child-like in her forever preserved state of naivety. I learn so much from her about the true simplicity of life, and our journey through it.

...

Sweet friends, thank you so much for your kind words in my last post. I never know what to say, so I will just say thank you.

I hope you have a happy weekend, full of no worries and little birds to remind you of new beginnings.

"Three Little Birds" -From the album B is for Bob, Bob Marley

Snowed In... (my view from the inside)

2011-02-08T09:15:00.007-06:00

Last week we got a blizzard that shut down every one and thing for a week. I got an extra 3 days off work and we split the time between exploring the snowy drifts up to my hips, and staying in and cozying up in the warmth and peace of a world covered in a blanket of snow. I mostly stayed in - the last couple weeks my body has told me to slow down and start preparing for the little one.
Now I realize what the phrase "nesting" really is. It wasn't my intuition to sew or cook or arrange nursery furniture. In one week I have emptied every closet and room in this house, vacuumed every corner, and gotten rid of extra stuff that has just been taking up room. After my last post, I decided to take a break from the internet, and got busy with my long to-do's that need to be done before the first week of April.

A few pictures from our week of being snowed in (my view from the inside).

This is such a scary, but sweet picture at the same time. At my last ultrasound, it almost took my breath away to see how much babyjoon has gone from a tiny little wiggly worm to a real baby. She stretched and wrapped her fingers around her tiny toes, sucked her thumb, and looked around. There were so many sweet photos to be taken, and in the end when the ultrasound tech printed them off, I ended up with 3 front-view pictures (you never want to see your alien child from the front while they're in the womb) and one of her crotch. This is the least terrifying of them all, and even though it's a bit scary I have stared at it for hours. The background to my phone, and something I look over 15 times a day. Studying her big eyes that will surely be brown, her round cheeks and belly, and her pouty lips. I can't wait to meet her.

The finished pillows. I decided to stop at two, since there are so many other pillows on the couch that I couldn't get rid of. I bought this green one almost 10 years ago at a thrift store.

Her quilt is almost done.

I feel like my love of tea has turned to addiction when I switched to a mug with a handle.

The last few weeks I've been teaching myself a thing or two about aperture.

I get lots of questions about photo editing, and I hate to always come off as rude or unhelpful, but I don't do a lot of editing. These three photos were taken with 3 different settings, with no editing afterward, other than resizing.
I have taken photos every single day since I was 17 years old and got my first camera. That's 11 years invested in a hobby I am passionate about, so it has grown into something I understand, that comes naturally to me. I might take 15 pictures of the exact same thing until I find one I like. The little egg with a sprout was one of 7 photos that I took until I got the lighting and depth of field correct.
So, friends, if you really have an interest in something, don't look for the easy way out. Not only does it show, but you're not really nurturing a hobby that you want to grow into something creative. Just slow down and take the time to read your camera manuals, and practice, practice, practice. Photoshop doesn't fix everything.

...

Sorry for the quiet, this last week. With my online break, I have been thinking about a lot of things. And even though there is a huge pile of emails stacking up that I need to return, my time away has made me desperate for more of the same. I have these inner battles with television and internet - tv I can do without completely, and have no desire for. The internet has always been my creative outlet. A place to tell stories and post photos of all my favorite little things. But I hate the time it takes up, and a week away has really shown me how many things I can accomplish that are truly important to me.
Sometimes I am not the best blog friend, and I can't always answer every question or read every blog or make posts on the things you want to hear. As this space grows, so do the number of people that visit here daily. This week we were featured on Dear Baby and Fit Pregnancy, and yesterday there were a little under 12,000 visits (!!!) to this blog.
And as more and more people come, I have to try harder to remind myself why I have this space - to share a few of the photos I take on a daily basis, (for myself, not the internet) and to hopefully add a bit of light to someone's day. But that has limitations. I do not and will not ever use this blog as a form of income, so I have to limit my time here or it starts to interfere with my daily life and the things I need to be making time for. Cooking dinner, taking the dog for a walk, finishing a sewing project, and getting ready for our little family of 3....there are so many things I can not take time away from. These days I need nothing more than to be still. To take a long bath with no distraction of Facebook or flicker of light other than the candles. To breathe, and focus, and find a place inside myself to prepare for new journeys ahead.
This space will stay, but I have to spend less time here. I apologize a thousand times that I am a poor blog friend, but life always comes first. I hope that doesn't take away from the fact that coming here to find all your comments is such a sweet part of my day, even if it's only for brief moments here and there.

So thank you, friends. For the thousands of you that visit here every month, even though I don't give back much at all. It means a lot to me, and keeps me coming back when all my lists are done, and the world has quieted down enough to allow an hour a couple times a week to share a bit of my life with you.

All my best,
Aura

coming next: Snowed In... (my view from the outside)

Losing Keys - Jack Johnson

Dressing the bump: (the 2nd trimester)

2011-02-02T14:26:00.008-06:00

When I first found out I was pregnant, after all the initial excitement, sheer terror, and newness wore off, my thoughts started to drift towards maternity clothes. Just the sound of it was enough to make me cringe, as I started imagining myself in hideous tents with no style whatsoever.
It was completely outside of myself, because I normally don't put much thought into what I wear. As long as it's comfortable, pretty, timeless, or solid, I love it. Anything more than that takes a lot of work that I wasn't willing to put in.

So entering my 2nd trimester of pregnancy at 3 months, I knew it was time to start paying attention to what I put on every day, or I would end up with low self confidence and....a tent.
I was bound and determined to not buy maternity clothes. I normally live in plain vnecks, dresses, and cardigans all year, so I knew I could stretch some of those until the end.

At 15 weeks, I bought myself a Tummy Sleeve from Motherhood Maternity. It was just okay. Some women swear by them, but I was so bloated as an early pregnancy symptom, that my old jeans just weren't comfortable anymore.
In your first trimester, a common symptom is bloating. Don't worry, you haven't really gained 15 pounds, already. By week 18, I felt like I had lost 10 pounds and found myself back in my old jeans, again.

So my 2nd maternity item I purchased were 2 pairs of jeans. Maternity Full-Panel Denim Leggings, from Old Navy, and Loved by Heidi Klum.

I will say, that the Loved pair are just about the cutest, and most comfortable pair of Maternity Jeans I have ever seen. (I was wearing them in these photos) I am actually not at all a fan of skinny jeans, but I knew that being in my 2nd trimester during Fall/Winter meant lots of boots, so I needed jeans that were easy to tuck in. These are cute. Actually cute, not just maternity cute. Plus there is no hideous, giant panel.

The Old Navy jeans are very comfortable. They really do feel just like leggings. Not as cute, but perfect for layering under long tunics with boots. When only your knee is showing, they don't have to look that good! Just do the job.

I bought my jeans around the same size that I normally wear. In regular clothes (I can barely remember those days) I was a size 26, or 0/2 most of the time. So I bought all my maternity jeans in a 2 so I had a bit of room to grow. They run very true to size, and almost always have some stretch to them.

After the jeans, I boycotted maternity wear. My sister got me some corduroys for my birthday, and I added them to my small list of maternity clothes.
I actually had a few pieces in my closet from years ago that were maternity. There is something about an extra long, empire waist-anything that lures me in. So I got all those out, combined them with a few of my favorite normal pieces, and learned to dress myself, all over again.

And by the end of the 2nd trimester, who knew, that I would end up buying a tent, after all.

Here are a few of my favorite outfits from the 2nd trimester.

Now that I'm in my third trimester, it's a whole new ball game. Baby joon weighs 4 pounds, and my belly is huge on my body. These days, tents sound pretty amazing, and I've had to get more creative as everything gets tighter and shorter.
I will do a few more outfits for the 3rd (and final) trimester in the next few weeks.

Happy closet-shopping, Mamas to be!
And please remember that following a good diet and exercise are the easiest ways to still be able to wear your clothes for as long as you can. Not only will it be better for you& baby, but it's better for your wallet, too.

PS: If you have any favorite maternity tips & tricks, online stores or anything related to dressing the bump, please leave a little note in the comments. I have a lot of readers that browse over the comments as well as posts, and I'm sure any extra feedback would be wonderful.

A brand new day.

2011-01-31T13:26:00.008-06:00

Happy Monday!

Thank you all for your sweet words in my last post. I agree with so many of you, a little baby needs only love, love, love.
Today is a brand new day, and this morning when I logged into my bank account, I found out that the money we thought we lost wasn't gone, after all. We had put a deposit down on another car for when the baby gets here, only to find out that it wasn't a real transaction.

It's these times that I think about humanity and the cruel acts that we are capable of. I was not raised with religion, but I was raised with a strong understanding for what is right and wrong. One of my favorite quotes is:
When I do good, I feel good. When I do bad, I feel bad.

I wonder how it's possible for people to disregard any little voice they have within themselves and do wrong by somebody else. My only consolation is to know that these people are not truly happy, and never will be. With their behavior and negative actions comes a life of misunderstand for what is truly important.
Even though we are sometimes wronged, it should never change the compassion and respect that we owe every single person around us. We are all just trying to live our lives the best we can, without stepping on anybody else in the process.

We had a wonderful weekend, regardless. Michael's family was here, we spent a day with mine, went to dinner to celebrate my niece's 7th birthday, and I finally caved and bought 3 maternity shirts. My belly has gone through a growth spurt, and this morning I was surprised to read that she is nearing 4 pounds, and 18 inches in length.

I started a quilt for our little bee, and finished up a couple headbands for the shop.

The sun was warm and shining, which would explain my day of laying out on Friday that I mentioned. I'm sure some of you were wondering just how over-heated a pregnant woman could possibly be, in a bikini on a late January day. We had two days in a row that almost reached 80 degrees, and I took full advantage of them.
I went for a couple long bike rides, and stretched like a lizard on a rock in the sun, reading one of my current favorite magazines.
Sunday the cold front moved back in, and I went for the coldest bike ride of my life. It was in the low 30's and I felt like my face would surely melt off at any moment.

My little green dragon, Elsie, has been parked in the living room for a couple weeks. A cycling friend let me borrow her indoor trainer, and for those extra cold days, I just park it on Elsie and go for an indoor spin. It's nowhere near as gratifying or freeing as jumping on my bike and disappearing into that perfect moment, but it will do for now.

This weekend we also did a lot of eating, which has become one of my best hobbies :) I gave myself a much needed pedicure, and Michael rubbed my puffy feet.
I thought I was safe, but since I work on my feet and have a really hard time sitting still when I finally get home, my feet and ankles have started to swell the last few days. One of the only remaining things I still recognized, even my feet are new to me, now.

My belly has gotten so heavy, and has started to pull my spine off of alignment. Being in the tub for an hour and feeling weightless has been wonderful, and leaves me wishing that I could spend a few hours every day in the water. We got a membership to the YMCA when the weather turned cold and I couldn't spend as much time outdoors. I think I will take up swimming, and give this heavy body a bit of a rest. I guess that means I have to start shaving :)

These days it seems that as much as I try to steer my thoughts in other directions, I always seem to fall back to the looming reality of pregnancy. It has completely consumed my entire life, even though I have tried so hard to make it just a part of it.
I have a few things to talk about over the next few weeks. The changes through the trimesters, exercise, dressing the bump, favorite meals, and good products I've found along the way. If you're pregnancy-leary, it might be a good time to take a little break from this blog and find something more interesting to read :)

...
Tomorrow we have a cold front moving through, and a heavy winter storm. Snow, and a high in the teens. Big change from Friday in my bikini, right? There is a saying that goes: "if you don't like the weather in Oklahoma, just wait five minutes."
And it could not be more true. I am thinking of just calling my appointments tomorrow and rescheduling, and calling an extra day on this weekend.

Have a great week, friends.

Brand New Day - Joshua Radin.

Happy Weekend, Friends.

2011-01-29T09:02:00.002-06:00

Happy weekend, sweet friends. Anything fun planned?

I spent the beginning of mine laying around in the yard getting some reading done, and feeling some sunshine on this round (and slightly lopsided) belly.
Thanks to scoliosis, I like to tell people that one side is 8 months pregnant, and the other 7.

This weekend will be spent exploring what is important. Yesterday we lost money that we desperately needed for when the little one gets here. But ultimately, we have to remind ourselves that money is just money. Paper with no real meaning or value that brings us any significance.
When we come across these battles and hard-points in life, all we can really do is understand that what's done is done, and dwelling in bad feelings of negativity, stress, and worry will do nothing but prolong those feelings.
It is our choice what mood we wake up in every day. No one or thing should be held responsible for the way we allow our days to go.

Step back, take a deep breath, and let those feelings go. When all else fails, eat a huge plate of warm, fresh-from-the-oven cookies and milk at midnight :)

Happy weekend, friends.

Working from home.

2011-01-26T17:01:00.002-06:00

Today I've been working from home. Those are my favorite days, when I get to sit and just be in the moment of the peace and quite. It's such a welcome change from the busy salon, with buzzing stories, loud music, and blow dryers.

Now that I'm in my 7th month, peace & quiet, rest, and the sunshine through the cracked windows are just about my favorite things. When the baby comes, I will go to four days a week at the salon, and spend the extra day working from home. Today I bleached, scrubbed, styled, arranged, and photographed all the new little treasures I found for bark & leaves. It was a little taste of what my extra 3rd day a week off will be like in 2 months, except with a little baby to wear around.

On these days where I am in every moment, not just going through the motions of life, but stopping to feel and smell and hear every sense around me, she is busy-beeing around in my belly, and making her presence known.

Michael's work and school schedule has gotten so busy, that I spend a lot of time with her, just the two of us. At night when he's in class, she makes things a little less lonely, and when I start to feel like I'm staring at these empty walls with my cabin fever growing strong, I can feel little nudges, snuggles & pokes, reminding me that soon enough I will be outside, Spring will be here, and she will be my littlest tag-along.

A few photos from today, working from home:

I've started working on these hair pins. I adore hunting for old treasures, cleaning them up, and photographing them looking their best, but I miss actually creating with my hands, and am going to be doing a bit more sewing in the next couple months.

I found this photo from Summer and it made me miss everything about it. I am just not meant to live in a place where everything dies and the weather turns cold.

& I came across these two photos and fell in love:

My parents, sister and me on one of our cross-country adventures, at the head of the Golden Gate Bridge. I want to stand in this same spot with our little bird, some day.

I love this. My Dad with his cigarette and bare feet, my Mom looking beautiful, Grandma & Grandpa still so young, and my sister, with her head full of dark curls.

I hope you all had a wonderful day.

A dreary, perfect Sunday ......(to-do:)

2011-01-23T11:35:00.008-06:00

Today is dreary, cold, and full of weekend goodness.
I often make lists in my head of the things I love, and maybe don't so much. At the top of my love-list is always Sunday. It is the best day of the week, a day for finishing projects and never changing out of your pajamas.

Today for my to-do:

Drink tea. Lots and lots of tea. On days off when the weather is cool, there is always a pot boiling on the stove. When I was a little girl, tea would solve everything. If you had pink eye, your eyes got a tea bath. If you had a headache, you'd breathe in the vapor from the tea. If your stomach was upset, a cup would cure it.
I have been thoroughly ignoring all sideways remarks about the consumption of tea during pregnancy. Outside of our borders, there are countries who use tea as such an important part of their daily life. My Mom drank multiple cups a day when she was pregnant with me, so did her mother, and her mother's mother. And somehow, we all seemed to turn out okay, although slightly addicted to the sweet leaves that seem to course our veins. My favorite way to drink it is dark, black, and plain. No sweeteners, no tea bag, no other flavors.
Like traveling to a place that is completely new to you, other country's traditions are little reminders that we are not the only ones here, and sometimes our way is not the best, or most important, or valid. I have also had to remind people regularly that women in Japan do not all have three-legged children from their daily intake of sushi. And I have continued to eat it often over the last 7 months.

Treating pregnancy as a new addition to my life, and not a disease that holds me down has made it so much easier to transition into these stages as they have come.
Plus a little handful of sarcasm for the anal worry-warts.

A new sewing project. Our couch is getting a little makeover, at a fraction of the retail price.
I paid $77 total for all the fabric, and 3 down pillow inserts. Two are 18 x 25, and one is 30 x 36. The big one is my favorite, and it is serving as a replacement for taking the back cushions off the couch to make it deeper.
Last night, I found this small Marrakesh Pillow online for $125. Yeow, that's steep.

Eat yummy comfort food. This is my Mom's homemade Ash-e-Reshteh. You can find a recipe for it, here.
It is full of beans, so it's a great source of protein for vegetarians (and pregnant women with meat aversions).
It is one of my favorite dishes, I think I could eat it every day. As a little girl, I would love to watch Grandma sit on the living room floor in the sun and roll the noodles by hand. I can still smell the flour and dough as they rolled together to make the little noodles that my imagination turned into worms.

Finish the shadow box. Over the last few years I have filled our house with bowls, vases, baskets, and bins full of seashells, driftwood, and rocks that we've found on adventures. I started this shadow box a few weeks ago, and I think today it needs to finally be done. I am trying to find the perfect spot to place it when it's finished, and right now the shelves above the couch, our guest bathroom, the mantle, or baby room are the top contenders.

Other to-do's: clean, yoga, & paint my toenails before I can't reach them anymore.

Happy Sunday, friends. I hope you have a wonderful head start to this week.

PS: hello to every one that is new, here. This little blog has reached around 50,000 visitors a month. Thank you always for coming here to leave sweet words, I hope you find whatever it is that you're looking for.

Greens from Austin

2011-01-20T15:43:00.006-06:00

Happy Thursday, friends! It's almost time for the weekend. Today we got some ice and snow, and the temperature outside is the kind of cold that sinks down into your bones. But the sun is shining, and there is something beautiful about the dry, crisp snap of the air.
We had a lazy, long weekend in Austin. I spent a lot of it in my pajamas, and we got a laugh out of trying to find sushi restaurants in town that wouldn't be offended if we walked in wearing yoga pants. I will post a few pictures from our trip over the next couple weeks, for now I want to show you a few little greens that I brought home from our trip.

It stays a lot warmer there year round than it does in Oklahoma, and every time we visit I ooh and ahh over the palms, tropical flowers, succulents, and desert plants that thrive there all year long. The last day we were there, Monica had already gone to work and Michael was sleeping in. So I got up early, stopped for some tea, and explored a local nursery in town.
Last Spring my Mom shared with me that it has been her dream for awhile to have a greenhouse, and set up a booth at our local Farmer's Market every year. Since then, my mind has been going wild with any plans I can come up with to make this come true.
Of course I have to be a part of this, since the smell of soil and watching a plant grow and thrive courses through my veins with a huge passion. Michael and I for years have joked about our plant business, and long ago picked a name based off of our last name for our imaginary greenhouse business. For now, I am going to play my hand at growing some small herbs, succulents, and perhaps some variations of potted flowers and plants. Over the last few days I've combined what I brought home from Austin with what I had around the house, and I've been watching every sunny corner, window, and table top in our home become transformed into the life and excitement that comes with the first few days of Spring.

I found a couple different types of Aloe, and these curious little things called Stone Plants. They don't grow any taller, but just spread and look like stones filling a pot. They feel like a fungus, and I thought for sure they were some type of mushroom until I looked into them more.

A few months ago I was staring at the side of my hideous refrigerator and wishing that it could be hidden. So I schemed a crazy idea to hang a curtain rod and drape off the entire kitchen area. I received some sideways looks until I actually put it together. And I must admit that I was right...like I usually am when it comes to debates between my husband and I over decorating the house :) This drape was a bit of a struggle to bring home, Michael didn't not approve of the tie-top, especially since he had to stand on the ladder and tie every single one by hand. If you're interested, you can find it at Pottery Barn.
I will make more of a conscience effort to mention where I got these things, since I get so many questions. The green block print drapes in our dining room are from Urban Outfitters, I received quite a few inquiries about them over the last couple weeks. I stalked them for months, trying to think of anywhere to hang them. When they discontinued them, I thought it wasn't meant to be, until they brought them back in stock a few months ago.

This is my little succulent farm. A few are old friends, my oldest ones in the bunch I had in our tiny little apartment when we first got married 4 years ago. And there are some new little babies growing, hopefully ready to be potted and re-homed this Spring.
So far Olive has been stalking it, but she seems mostly uninterested. She loves to eat anything and everything I bring in the house, but succulents don't seem to interest her taste buds much at all.

One of my favorite stores is West Elm.
Their style is much more modern and simplistic than the way we decorate our home, but I love all their natural elements, linens, textures, and inspiration from the ocean. I was more than excited to find one within walking distance of Monica's place, and we spent some time there browsing around. I came home with this interesting hanging vase:

and an air plant. They're supposedly low maintenance, but still need to be watered twice a week. I actually do not consider that low maintenance at all. For now it is nameless and hanging in our dining room from the chandelier, but it's new home will be in my kitchen window, where it can get some bright, indirect light throughout the day. By the way, it's also high maintenance about the light it needs to receive. One more strike against the promise of it being low maintenance.

While we were there I also picked up a new duvet cover for our bedroom.

We've had a white duvet for a few years and I was ready for a change with some new patterns in the room. I am a huge fan of block print anything, and the ethnic flare that it gives textiles. Normally I can never find anything to match our room, since I like to keep the colors in there neutral. But this pattern is just a simple light and dark.

One of my absolute favorite textile designers is Catherine from Rikshaw Designs.

I found her work a couple years ago and find her so incredibly inspirational. Her work is absolutely beautiful, and gives you that bright, happy, feel-good feeling. I was so excited to find her blog a few weeks ago and finally put a voice behind her gorgeous prints. Textiles are a huge passion of mine and I get wildy excited over placemats, sheets, fabric, curtains, and anything pretty. I worked in a fabric store for 3 years when I was younger, and it seemed that every day I would come home with a cutting of something new and exciting.

And finally, Tuesday we had another ultrasound and found out that I am actually 30 weeks pregnant, instead of 29. That means one less week of being pregnant, one less week to get prepared, and an earlier due date. My new due date is April Fool's Day, and according to my Grandma, looking into the new moon that night will assure that I go into labor. So we will see. Our little bird weighs right about 3 pounds, and has the squishiest cheeks I have ever seen.

Have a wonderful night, friends.

Happy Weekend, Friends.

2011-01-13T22:27:00.003-06:00

Happy weekend, friends. I'm ducking out early and calling a much-needed 4 day weekend. In the morning we're leaving for our Babymoon, one last trip together before the little lady is here.
We had planned months ago to head to the beach and camp for a few nights, but a last-minute forecast change to rain called for some new plans. So we're loading up the car and road-tripping to Austin, to see Monica, eat some of that yummy Austin food that I love, and to raid the sale racks at Anthropologie. And no trip out to Texas would be complete without a 3 hour stop at Ikea, to finish buying little items like baskets for the nursery.

I am always filled with anxiety the night before a trip. Already missing and worrying about the cats, and trying to soak in all my favorite bits of home - sunshine patches on the rugs, my bike, and the little familiar comforts that make it what is is.

I hope you all have a wonderful weekend! Stay warm.

Decorating Around The House

2011-01-11T11:05:00.004-06:00

When the temperatures are freezing outside and I am stuck in the house, I spend a lot of time arranging, rearranging, and arranging some more. One of my biggest passions is design, color, and the warm feeling of knowing that a space you've created can feel inspirational. On my list of the many things I hope to accomplish before I'm too old to do them, Interior Design has always been at the top.

These days, I am pulling out all our shells from trips to the beach, fresh flowers and plants, and bright colors. One little change and your mood is brightened, as well.

You can visit my Pinterest to see the small places and spaces I find inspirational.
I started it in an attempt to clear off my desktop, because I'm known to have dozens of folders full of pretty things.

A mess of photos (November & December)

2011-01-10T12:42:00.005-06:00

I thought my tomatoes would never stop growing. We had them all the way through the middle of November. Next year - less tomatoes.

I'm growing restless with our bedroom. No room in this house is safe from my nesting.
I am gathering frames and bits of interesting things for the walls.

My husband, the constant adrenaline-seeker.

I stopped coloring my hair about a year ago, so there are a few gray hairs making their presence be known. I think they're pretty, little shiny streaks here and there, reminding me that I am one year wiser.

Protea flowers. Now that it's Winter, one of the best parts of my day has been walking to a little flower shop and picking out bits of sunshine to warm up the house. They have been my favorite flowers, and last almost 2 weeks before they start to turn the most curious shade of gray. They look like fuzzy, newborn birds right before they die.

We finally found the perfect changing table for the baby's room. We searched antique stores, junk shops, and thrift stores for 2 months before finally settling on this pretty French Provincial piece. We high-fived in the car when we got it in.

Happy Monday, friends. How was your weekend? Anything exciting?

I have been mending a poor, torn ab muscle. A new symptom of pregnancy that I learned about this week is Diastis Recti. It's the separation of your ab muscles from each other, and when you refuse to switch to prenatal yoga, still move furniture around, and generally pretend that you're not 7 months pregnant, it can worsen the condition. I found this out the hard, and painful way.
Otherwise, we made lots of hot tea, bundled up, and slept in this weekend. I finished 2 sewing projects, and we played the little bird music all weekend long.

Sing-alongs and Lullabies
&
B is for Bob.

Her favorite song is High Tide or Low Tide, and I couldn't agree with her more. It's one of my favorites, too, baby girl.

It reminds me of the sea.

Have a great week, friends.

27 weeks pregnant

2011-01-05T23:12:00.004-06:00

27 weeks done, 13 to go. In a week I'll be in my 3rd and final trimester.
Somehow, time is passing by so quickly, but not quickly enough.

2 0 1 0 (one year of memories in 130 photos)

2011-01-04T00:39:00.000-06:00

In 2010, I took a little under 13,000 photos to document our year. Narrowing it down to the 130 that bring me the most vivid memories was a little overwhelming. How can you choose a handful of moments, frozen in time, that shape us year in and out to become who we are?

2010 was about overcoming fear, negativity, struggle, insecurity, and doubt. It was about physical, and most importantly, mental strength and courage to say "I can do this."

The beginning of the year brought a blanket of snow, making the world look new. With the snow came new life, and little Brady. Time spent with family, and moments spent preparing for a new year to conquer.

With Spring (1, 2, 3) came the real new year, the first day of everything coming alive again.
It was the first stages of bark & leaves.
And lots of days spent Backyard Farming.

Spring also brought a long girls weekend out of town to see my best friend, Monica, in her beautiful city of Austin. Sometimes we tell people we've been best friends since we were 13 years old, when we met in the 7th grade. Other times we'll say we've been best friends since the day we were born. One day apart, sleeping next to each other in the same hospital nursery. The day we really met, we became life-long friends, a bond that can never be broken with the gaps of time that pass between our moments spent together, again.
That weekend we walked around the city, shopped, and spent 3 muddy, Woodstocky days at Reggaefest. Dancing, and having fun in the pouring rain, with mud up to our knees.
It was a trip I will never forget.

Early Summer brought my first Arts Market.
Time with family (1, 2, 3) and sweet bits of Summer, beginning to make its way into our lives.

Summer was time spent outdoors, hiking, fishing, gardening, and shopping at the Farmer's Market.

Baby Brady, chiminea nights, Arts Festivals, Summer Breeze concerts in the park, good food, and picking Oklahoma wildflowers.

Road trips across our sleepy state to watering holes, fresh fruit, and lots of lazy, Summer evenings on a blanket, watching Michael and his friends play sand volleyball while listening to music. I never complained.

Patio nights, rain boots, 100 miles a week on my new shiny green bike named Elsie, outdoor concerts with friends, sweet tea, and the beautiful Oklahoma storms of Summer.

Late nights with friends around the firepit, and a sleepy 4th of July. Watching fireworks from the dock, fishing, and laying in the hammock with a gardening book.

All year I wait for the grass to turn green and life to start again. Over the Spring and Summer, I am truly living. Breathing in the beauty of every single day.
We took three important trips, this Summer.

The first in June, we were back to Austin for a long weekend. We shopped, ate amazing food, and listened to live music. We walked everywhere we went, and met some wonderful people.

We went to a Reggae bar, the air thick with smoke and belly laughs.
We went to a hipster hangout and watched the Givers, live. I think we were the oldest, and most non-fedora wearing ones there. We loved it, and I bought a cd and a tshirt.
We went to a bar called Liberty, half indoors, half outdoors. We stayed out, under the Summer Austin stars, and ate from an old bus that served the most amazing food I've ever eaten. I wanted to memorize the menu.

We laid like lizards in the sun, and swam until we were prunes. We climbed cliffs and jumped from 20 foot ledges.

I learned to fly, close my eyes, breathe, and take my first steps in this world without feet.

A month later, Michael and I were off for a much needed, week long trip to the beach. (1, 2, 3, 4)

I learned to find calm in my heart, surf, and to search for the most simple joys of life.

We kayaked in a swamp, found alligators, and peered at all the creatures in the water.

In July, we headed to Colorado for a backpacking and camping trip.
It was a very important trip for us.

Full of adventure, courage, and necessity to push myself to places I didn't know I could go. To put aside fear, doubt, and struggle.
When we got home, we found out we'd brought home a little souvenir.

The end of Summer brought a time to say good bye, to those sweet few months that made our year what it was. We put together all of our favorite memories into one video, that we will show our little bird when she is old enough. It was the Summer she came to be.

In the Fall we celebrated 4 years of marriage, had lots of lazy, perfectly imperfect days to rest and start growing this baby, good comfort food, Thanksgiving with our families, and turning 28.
We also announced to our families that the littlest adventurer was indeed a little girl, just like every one suspected. We filled a giant balloon with pink confetti, and in front of our family, Grandpa popped the balloon as the air (and wood floors) were littered with her first hello.

At the end of the year, baby Brady turned 1 year old. We celebrated the holidays with our families, snuggled by fires, and drank lots of hot chocolate. These last few months have been a quiet, welcome change to the adventures of Summer. My body is growing tired and sluggish with each month that passes, and in a couple weeks I will be entering my 3rd, and last trimester of this pregnancy.

And that was our year, friends.
So here we are, the 4th day of the new year and today I will finally set my resolution for 2011.

It will be one that I learned in 2010, and will continue to take with me every day into the new year. This year, my resolution is to just live. Freely, with happiness, gratitude, and renewed enthusiasm for our ability to shape each and every day how we choose it to be.

Happy New Year, friends.

Happy New Year! (w e l c o m e 2 0 1 1)

2011-01-02T00:43:00.001-06:00

Happy New Year, lovelies! I hope your first day of the year was spent well. Over the next few days I'm going to be working on a recap of 2010. In true form, I am always late when other parts of life get busy.

I have been putting new meaning to the term "nesting." The last few weeks, nothing has escaped my path of destruction, and many trips have been made to Salvation Army and dumpsters to clear out this house. It is the new year, and I am ready for a fresh, clean start.
I've also been filling our house with anything living I can, to get me through these next cold, dreary months. If you've been around the blog for awhile, you know I turn into a moody, gloomy mess over the Winter, and this year is no different. Even though four rooms in our home are already painted green, I am getting urges to paint all the walls the color of Spring to help bring in a bit more sunshine.

Here are a few photos from around the house the last couple weeks.

This gazelle was a Christmas gift from Michael. For the last few years we've passed for birthday, anniversary, and Christmas gifts to each other. But since this was our last year as just the two of us, we decided to do some surprise gifts.
And that's how I ended up with a gazelle head that makes me grin from ear to ear, every time I see it. I am repainting and decorating our guest bathroom over the next couple months (more nesting) and I believe this head needs to go directly above the toilet.

I've been busy (even more nesting) going over paint colors and decisions for the little bird's room. This dresser was a recent antique store find, and it's perfect for her changing table. Our next ultrasound is in three weeks, and I keep having nightmares that they'll discover we secretly have a little man in there, who will be stuck with a beautiful, girlie, green dresser.

This cold weather and dead grass have been making my weary, and already my bones are growing tired, stiff, and hungry for Spring. I bought a bag of potting soil yesterday to pot some new plants, and the smell of soil filling the house brought me happy memories and hopes for April. This year will be so different, and I don't yet know what to expect. My lazy days of digging in the garden and filling my hands with cool, damp Earth will be accompanied by a little one strapped to my back, or left on a blanket in the shade.
Part of me is nervous for these changes of the unknown, while another huge part is so ready to begin this adventure. I am so excited to be starting it during my favorite time of year, when I feel alive, inspired, and ready to take on life.

For now, I will just continue to nest and work on my little indoor gardens.

I will be back soon with a recap of 2010. For now, you can find me guest-posting on Corey's adorable blog, Life With Little Ones. I am excited to finally be able to share what I have been working on for the last year.
So many of you have been asking about bark & leaves, and I have been working around the clock trying to get a website up and running for the new year.
This next year, I am working towards more Arts Markets, and selling some of my items in a couple local boutiques. You can find a link to the website in the interview.

I hope you have wonderful, lazy Sunday, friends.
Ours will be spent taking down the rest of the Christmas decorations, busy-beeing around the house, and snacking on yummy comfort foods.

&maybe nesting just a little bit.

Bits of Christmas (day & night)

2010-12-22T15:49:00.000-06:00

In the mornings, the holiday decorations around the house are light and crisp with sunshine. But still, as daylight starts to fade away and dark settles over our house, I love nothing more than the romantic glow of twinkle lights, candles, and sparkle.
In January, when everything comes down, I am missing that warm glow every night.

Happy Holidays, friends.
Today is the start of my 5 day weekend, and the beginning of winning my husband back from 14 hours of school and 5 days of work a week this last semester. It will be quiet around here until the new year, and I'll be back then to say hello.

I hope you can all spend some time with the ones you love, think about the year you lived, and be inspired towards the changes you will make into the new year. See you soonish.

Bringing the outdoors in - WINTER (christmas decorations '10)

2010-12-19T15:30:00.000-06:00

Hello, friends.
I needed to finish a post on our Christmas decorations, and a new bringing the outdoors in, but I seem to be running out of time. How does this time of year sneak up so quickly? So here is a combination of both - our house this holiday season, and all the little bits of the outdoors that I love, to make it feel alive.
You can find our 2009 Christmas decorations, with information on where we purchased our items in the Decor page along the top.

you and me + 1 = 3

2010-12-16T21:28:00.000-06:00

And there were just as many terrible ones. My favorites:

Happy weekend, friends.
One weekend full of hot chocolate, warm cookies from the oven, and sweet little Christmas lights sounds pretty perfect, right now.

23 weeks pregnant..... (whose body is this, anyway?)

2010-12-12T11:57:00.002-06:00

Now that I am entering my 6th month of pregnancy, there have been changes happening over the last few days that are sending my emotions into a whirlwind.
Now I can feel her kicking, and the little fluttering movements I once felt are stronger, and feel like fingers drumming inside my belly. This week I can no longer bend over to put on my socks or boots while standing, and my body has taken on a completely different appearance.

As each change has happened to me physically, they bring on a set of feelings that leave me exhausted with the surrender of one more lesson that this adventure has left me with. Other than marriage, I have not yet traveled on one journey that has made me question who I am, more.

Inside every woman's conscience lies her ability to criticize herself more harshly, and often, than anyone else around her. We begin our battles with insecurity young, often struggling to fit in with the other little girls we are playing dolls with. Our shame and self-awareness comes in the form of our looks, and eventually, our downfalls and insecurities with where our lives are heading.
With each chapter of my life beginning and ending, I have moved in and out of these motions fluidly. They come like an old friend, but not really a friend at all. Rather, a familiar pain or inconvenience that we just grit our teeth and learn to bare through. As the years have gone by and I have found my place of peace in life, these moments fall farther and farther away - until I am almost shocked to find myself in the middle of them again.

And here I find myself on a Friday night, standing in my favorite bikini and staring at a body I don't recognize. In it I find pieces of the old me, my toes and ankle bones (maybe not for long) and a few inches around my upper waist that still feel like the body I call home. I have no idea what possessed me to put it back on for the first time in months. It is in the 30's outside and the beach and Summertime seem like only a figment of my imagination in these dark, cold days.
But I did, anyway. And on my belly, I found little spidery pink lines that I can only imagine are the beginning of what most Mothers like to call their badge of honor. Marks left from 9 months of growing and nurturing and building a human being inside our bodies.

They're here. And no matter how strong and confident we are, something inside us wants to cry out like the little girl playing dolls with her friends that feels left out. Something is so vulnerable, and familiar, and painful.
I needed that moment to feel sorry for myself, but quickly realize that life is changing and happening, whether I want to dig my heels in the ground and stay put, or not. This is my next chapter of surrendering to Motherhood, and the body that will come with it.

When it is all said and done, I am still me. Whether my future beach days will only hold visions of one-piece Mom swimsuits, or not. This acceptance came quickly, and almost painlessly. Like one quick moment of panic that immediately melts into a sinking realization that everything will be okay. Because stretch marks are not the end of the world, and in the incredible adventure and journey that I am taking, and will continue down for the rest of my life, something so small and insignificant almost feels like an afterthought.

It's nights like these that I barely recognize myself. Not because my body is growing and changing and I can't find me, anymore. But because my mind has grown, and changed, and in these thoughts, the old me....insecure, vain, a shameful little girl with her dolls....that is the only me I am starting to not recognize.

Puerto Vallarta, Mexico

2010-12-09T20:25:00.000-06:00

In the Fall of 2006, a couple weeks after we got married, Michael and I flew to Jalisco, Mexico. We had gone back and forth for quite some time on where we would be spending the week of our honeymoon. In the end we decided we wanted more adventure than a few lazy days laying on the beach, and I got busy researching.
What I found was the city of Puerto Vallarta - it's culture still rich and preserved, a town center with cobble stone streets and beautiful Catholic churches. All surrounded by the lush Sierra Madre mountains.

We booked an 8 day, 7 night trip to an all inclusive resort in the hotel district. That was our first, and only mistake of the trip. Looking back, we spent next to no time in our hotel, and barely even ate there. Every day we set out in search of new adventures, and this is the story we came back to tell.

For $5, we could take a taxi from the hotel district to the center of town, where we spent most of our free time. It was my first taxi ride ever, and our seatbelt-less cab proved to be less than comforting as we raced in and out of traffic, dodging pedestrians and mopeds along the way.
On the boardwalk we found beautiful art and sculptures displayed, with the Pacific Ocean as a backdrop.

And we found Our Lady of Guadalupe, the stunning Catholic church I had seen in so many photos, and couldn't wait to see in person.

In the center of town, we felt like flies on a wall. Here there were no sunburned tourists, waitstaff, and beach vendors. It was just us, lost in the middle of a city that was bustling with so much life and energy that it felt like it could just swallow us whole. The locals spoke to me in Spanish, and asked us if we were newlyweds. "You look too happy to have been married for very long."
And in the middle of this city I did nothing but watch, learn, and memorize every smell and sound and the way it all just worked together fluidly.
95 degrees, in a dress, on my hands and knees in pigeon poop was the best place in the world at that very moment. I wanted to remember each and every character in this story, like the old man that walked up slowly with a bag of bread, who turned and walked away just as quietly as he had come.

We wandered farther into the streets until we were the only ones that didn't walk those streets every single day. We ate from food vendors on the street, drank $1 margaritas at a bar, and questioned the quality of the open market butcher shops with no doors or windows at almost 100 degrees outside.
It was my first time out of the country, and I was in love with everything I was feeling. We don't have very many opportunities in life as adults to experience something so new and raw for the first time - consumed by equal parts fear, curiosity, and sheer determination to dig deeper and farther into what we are feeling.

When the sun would start to go down, we would take a taxi back to our hotel every night.

The beach was the most quiet at those times, and we would make our plans for the next day. It was in those sweet nights that we spent on the beach that we experienced something so breath-taking that I could never find the words to describe it again.

One night while we were walking on the beach, I started to notice that every footstep I was taking was glowing. Thinking I was going crazy, I had to stop and make sure that what I was seeing was really true. We'd later learn that on that night, we were surrounded by plankton called dinoflagellates.

Algae that glows bright blue along the shore. We spent so long that night, digging them up in the sand, watching them float out in the ocean, and catching little bits of glowing light on our fingertips. It felt like home, and our sleepy Summertime fireflies.

Restless with our 8 nights stuck at the hotel, we began to notice loud bass, fireworks, and buzzing life miles away, in the town center.
So one night we set out looking for something new and exciting, having previously been timid to venture into the locals area at night.

The town center was alive at night, and there was no other word for it. While we had spent 3 nights stuck at our hotel with the other tourists, dining in their cheesy restaurants and listening to paid entertainment, life was happening just a $5 taxi ride away.
The streets were full of food vendors, entertainers, musicians, artists, and performers. It was loud and people were laughing, shouting, and dancing late into the night. We ate at a restaurant by an open window that served queso made from goat cheese, and realized why we weren't enjoying the American/Mexican food served at the hotel.

For the next couple days, we wanted to explore even farther from our hotel, and decided to board a catamaran that would take us along the coast.

The city was beautiful from the outside looking in, and we kept sailing forward for another hour until it all disappeared into the thick vegetation of the surrounding mountain range.

We came to a small cove where we would be snorkeling for the next couple hours. I had never been, and was scared to find myself suddenly in the middle of such deep water. The fish were amazing. Every color of the rainbow and every shape and size imaginable. The salt burned my skin and every minute spent in the water felt like tiny little ant stings that I learned to completely ignore in my efforts to preserve every memory we experienced that day.

On another day, we traveled to Nuevo Vallarta. The ride was long and hot, with 8 of us in the back of a large military truck. It took an hour on the highway before we started to reach the small towns and again found ourselves surrounded by the culture that we were looking for.

The people and children here were so shy, and reserved. I felt intrusive and out of place.
We were back in the truck in no time and traveled to the countryside. Our next big stop was a trail in the Sierra Madres, where we would spend a couple hours hiking. First we stopped at the home of a woman with a small, outdoor kitchen.

She made us fresh tortillas by hand and I wandered around her land, imagining what her life must be like. One tin roof, no plumbing or electricity, and a huge tequila plant. I guess for her, life is just simple.

We were refreshed and ready for our hike. Along the way I saw some of the most ridiculously terrifying spiders I had ever seen....and I'm not even that scared of spiders. We met a young boy and his horse, and I pretended like I was in the Ferngully Forest. It was sticky, hot, and incredibly humid that day.

Our last stop was Monterrey Beach. It was a small, private cove owned by a Mexican family. Standing on the beach, you could run across the entire length of it in 30 seconds and that was it. Tiny, secluded, and surrounded by lush, tropical foliage. The sand was dotted with gold flecks, and as the tide crashed down on the shore it looked like a flash of light and sunshine so bright it was almost blinding. We were the only two people in the water, and waist deep when Michael spotted the first sting ray. He was out of the water in 5 seconds flat but I stayed, searching for shells, until I got a cut across my butt cheek from a string ray swimming by.

We spent a lot of time in the ocean, on this trip. My heart is by the sea, and the weightless feeling of knowing that something consuming you is so out of your control that you could be gone at any minute.
We swam, boogie-boarded, and kayaked into the waves.

My favorite day of our honeymoon came when we traveled by boat to a small fishing village called Yelapa. It is only accessible by water, and no roads will take you to or from there. I imagine a portion of it's small population has never even left.

It took us about an hour to get there from our hotel, and when we arrived the locals flooded the beach to help us.
It only took about 30 minutes to walk through the entire town. We passed small businesses, homes, beautiful gardens, and more stray cats than I had ever seen. I guess if you're going to be a stray cat, a small fishing village in paradise is the best place to be.

The end of our trip took us to the waterfall at the back of the town. We stopped for a drink and I thought about the people we saw in Yelapa. I felt a nagging sense of sadness, but I didn't know why. For some reason they seemed lonely, quiet, and lost. I was 23 years old and at the time I didn't know a lot about life other than going to college, getting a career, and buying a home with a white picket fence. Years later, I can look back on this trip and understand how my memory of it has shaped who I am today, and what I consider to be a good life.
The people of Yelapa were untouched, intact, and naive to just how hectic and full of static life really is on the outside.
One of Michael and I's favorite stories is one that reminds me of this day, every time I hear it. And when we do, we remember the line-dried clothing, bare feet, and stray cats.

The best part of traveling to a place where everything is unfamiliar is coming back, knowing that it has shaped a small piece of who you are. This was the trip we needed to take. The 8 days we spent, two weeks into our marriage, teaching us lessons about what our priorities in life really are.

Life with you makes perfect sense, you're my best friend.

2010-12-07T18:28:00.001-06:00

A few weeks ago I was going through some old things and I found a list I had made Michael when we were dating:
"One hundred things I love about you."
I read through 2 pages, smiling, because not a lot has changed in the 5 years that I've written that letter. Here we are, no longer babies, but having one of our own.
Ten thousand fights, make ups, movie nights, adventures, tears, and laughs later, it has been 4 years since we said I do.

No one in this world stirs the same kind of emotion inside of me that he does. When we found each other, I didn't even know if I could ever love somebody again. He chased me for a long time, and a lot of "no's" and "I will not be your girlfriend's" later, I finally jumped in.

I would later discover that by saying I do, I was marrying adventure.
First in the form of traveling to places inside myself that I had never been. Meeting your complete opposite and realizing you can't live without them forces you to look down into the roots of who you think you are - and should be.

My entire life I had watched my parents and the kind of love they had. She can't stand him, he's infatuated with her. She gets annoyed and he calls her baby, pulls her close, and everything else melts away. They hold hands, fight like cats and dogs, only to come home again. Disappearing into the wilderness for weeks on end just to spend time with each other and escape anything and everything else that stands in the way. She curses at him under her breath and he laughs and she laughs and somehow, I have never seen two people so incredibly different - her, stubborn, fiery, quick-tempered. Him, calm in his heart, patient, and kind. It's a match that only can be understood when you meet that one person that hushes the fire inside of you, and balances any wrongs that need to feel right.
When I was a little girl I told my sister that when I grew up, I would marry my Dad.

And I met Michael there. In my own fiery battles, lord, I have thrown every inanimate object in this house at his head. And like cats & dogs we hiss and bark and come home again. Through the adventure of finding out these things about myself and learning that I am not always right, and him wrong, or him black, and myself white, we just are. The yin yang that somehow works even though it goes against everything that seems rational and right.

In the last 4 years of marriage we have learned so much about each other that it feels like we lived a lifetime together in some other world, far away from here. Content, safe, and completely comfortable here with my best friend, sometimes looking at him feels like I am looking through at myself.

In 4 months, it will be 7 years since our first kiss and the beginning of our story...where it all began. And in 4 months we will meet our little baby girl, and begin this new adventure with her.
We are so excited to share something real with her, and show her that true love can be ugly, hard, scary, and victorious at the same time.

And in the heart of the battles we are fighting, there is beauty and solace in the hard roads we take to reach happiness, and true love.

22 weeks pregnant

2010-12-03T09:00:00.001-06:00

Little Juju:

We found out a lot of new things about you, these last few weeks. We found out you're a girl, and I've started filling your room with little bits and treasures that I have collected over the years.
My favorite is a bunny that your Bibi sewed for me when I was a little girl. I remember going together to the fabric store to pick out the colors for her dress. I picked a peach floral print fabric, and peach ribbons for her floppy ears.

Right now she's in your bed, naked. In my studio is a small pile of fabrics that I will use to make her a new dress - one that matches your room.

Figaro the cat has been curiously observing every little thing that belongs to you. You don't have to call him Figaro, we only do when he's in trouble. You will call him Fig, and please be nice to him. He came from a not-so-lovely past and now he doesn't trust people very often. We hope he will love you, like he does us. At night he curls up on the couch next to my belly and purrs. I wonder if you can hear or feel him, yet.

Last night I felt my first contractions. I went to bed at 11:00, and around 3:45 I woke up in bed feeling something I had never felt before. I was a little scared, but I didn't want to wake up your Dad in case it was nothing. I drank some water and laid on my side, breathing slowly and waiting for them to go away.
I guess now I know what contractions feel like. I know the pain is only a thousandth of what I will feel on your birthday, but knowing what they're like was almost a relief. There was a strange comfort in those contractions....a rhythmic wave and release and pattern to the way my body was turning.
I can't compare it closer to anything but laying in the low tide, weightless. And feeling the ocean pull me in and out as my body surrenders and lets go of any resistance I have to offer against it.

I'm not scared anymore, baby. When your birthday is here, the pain won't even matter because on that day we will get to meet you.
I can't wait to take you to the ocean, and let you feel that kind of weightless rhythm in your own body.

"Only the Ocean" - Jack Johnson

note: in Farsi, Juju means tiny bird. My Mom said at work, the women have taken to calling baby Juju and think we will be naming her that. While I will probably always call her Juju, she will have a real name, someday :)
Bibi is short for Aubibi, which means Grandmother. We will be teaching our daughter Farsi, and hope to incorporate as many words as possible into her vocabulary.

Bringing the outdoors in - F A L L

2010-11-30T18:23:00.000-06:00

I'm sorry this post is a bit late, friends. I've been busy-beeing with other things and let it slip my mind.

As the last of the leaves start to change on the trees and disappear, I try to hang on to as much of the outdoors as I can to get me through the next few months until it's Spring again.
This Fall I decorated with branches, leaves, and pine cones that we brought home from Colorado, and huge ones my parents brought me from their camping trip to Sequoia National Park this Summer.

(images from marthastewart.com & bhg.com)

My little leaves changed and dropped off the branches before I had a chance to photograph them. You can clip them early, fill vases with them and enjoy their beautiful leaves for a couple weeks before they drop. They don't last as long as the Spring time blooms, but they give a good show before they're gone.

Bringing the outdoors in - Fall & Summer: (click photos to go to posts)

A day outdoors.

2010-11-29T09:13:00.000-06:00

These photos were taken 3 weekends ago, when I was 18 weeks pregnant. It's amazing to see how much I am growing and changing in just a few short weeks.

I hope you all had a wonderful holiday weekend. I spent the night of my birthday (Saturday) feeling a bit sick, and the rest of the weekend both Michael and I puked our guts out. Thanks to a nasty stomach bug, I went 24 hours without any food or liquid and barely escaped having to get IV's for dehydration. Fortunately, last night my sister-in-law came over and saved the day with some of her nurse care and today I am feeling much more like myself. I went for a long walk this morning and got some much-needed fresh air.
I hate being sick and feeling sorry for myself, but when there is a little baby involved in the process, it makes me feel ten times worse. All I could think about was if she had an upset stomach, too.

We bought our crib this weekend, and Michael's parents are picking it up with a truck and bringing it in a few hours. We didn't expect to have to put the nursery together so quickly, but when we found the crib of my dreams (the very last one, floor model) for $200 off, we snatched it up. Putting this little room together has been so exciting and fun for me. I can't wait to show you all the finished project.

As always, thank you all for your thoughtful comments on the last post. For some reason I always pictured myself with a house full of boys and pockets full of rocks and toads. A baby girl might be just what I need as a little partner in crime for all my gardening, sewing, and cooking.
Happy Monday, lovelies.

To my little bird:

2010-11-26T22:19:00.004-06:00

My dearest daughter:

I have a lot of years to teach you the things it has taken me a lot of years to learn. I wonder if all this time is enough to show you everything I want for you to remember by heart, as each slippery stepping stone year of your life passes you by.

It takes a strong mind and a courageous heart to wake up every day and be happy. This is my wish for you, and I hope that I know enough about myself as a woman to raise one.

I hope to teach you that beauty always comes first from who we are, on the inside. Appearance and the way we carry ourselves can never turn ugly faster than when we act ugly from the inside. When you are a beautiful person, the world around you feels the warming effect that your presence adds to life. Your looks are only a carrier of your soul, and they don't define you.

Sometimes people won't like you. And that is okay. You will never please everyone, and until you learn this, you will waste a lot of time trying to fulfill an image you see to be true in someone else's eyes.

I hope to teach you to never be ashamed of who you are.
"Be who you are, and say what you feel. Because those who mind, don't matter, and those who matter, don't mind."

One day I will teach you to write and speak beautiful words. Ones that come from your heart, and in turn, touch other people's hearts in the process. Reaching out and connecting with someone through any form of expression is the most beautiful and rewarding gift you will learn to give. Treat it only as a gift, and never as a tool to achieve something you want to gain.

I will teach you to never compare who you are, what you have, or how you look to anyone around you.
To be kind, thoughtful, compassionate, and caring towards every one and thing you come across. Every ant, leaf, person or thought deserves the same respect you wish to attain for yourself.

and when the sky drops all those feathers
and when the birds sing in the morning
I'll be a mama, I'll have a daughter

and I'll give her melodies
I'll give her melodies

and she'll be my little bird
...and then she'll fly

Little bird, Juju, there will be a lot to learn in your life.

For Mother's day last year, I got your dear Aubibi a print called "Learning to Fly." My Mother. For always being my wings, and teaching me to fly on my own.
For myself, I bought I Am Illuminated When I Am Free.

I found out about you after a Summer of learning to fly. And now my time to learn is done. Now I have you, babybird. And the rest of my life will be spent teaching you how to take your first steps without feet.

Sweet baby girl, I can't wait to meet you.

Last weekend your dad and I were looking through treasures in antique stores. He came across a small, silver music box shaped like an owl. To the beautiful notes that it plays, my mind wanders thinking about all the little hands that have turned the dial over the years. I wonder how many times we will turn it for you.
When he found it he said: "I want to buy this for her, it's perfect." And I couldn't think of any moment that I was happier, than these moments right now.

We have so much love to give you. For now, we are getting used to saying "our daughter."

*song is "Oh my Mama" -
found on blog: Lil Muse Lily.

Getting Ready for B a b y (shopping is the easiest part)

2010-11-22T22:06:00.003-06:00

{little fashion gallery}

{zara kids}

{little fashion gallery} {zuzi shuziis} {kina}{sweet william}

{nui organics}

{baby gap}

{baobab} {little fashion gallery}

{anthropologie}

I wish everything about becoming a parent was as easy as putting together beautiful shopping lists for your little one.

We spent the day at almost a dozen stores, looking for an old antique dresser I can paint and turn into a changing table. So many wonderful treasures to look through - I could live in antique stores. Michael found a little something and said "I want to buy this for baby."
My heart is melting every day when he rubs my belly, and talks about his baby.

Next weekend we will announce what we are having, and I will show you a picture of Michael's sweet little gift.

Hello, baby. I picked out some cute things for you.

Random photos from October

2010-11-21T10:25:00.001-06:00

We're still working on the patio. Somehow our Spring 2010 project of expanding the area around it, building a fire pit, and making a hammock stand got pushed back to Spring 2011. At least we got the landscaping done, and our willow tree is growing big. Hopefully in a couple years, it will hang over our hammock and make the best shady spot to relax.
I am daydreaming about snuggling in the hammock with babyjoon this Spring.

This is an exciting week for us. On Thanksgiving we will tell your families the results of our big ultrasound. I can't wait to start the nursery and dream up names. I love this time of year, and preparing for the little one has added an entirely new level of love and excitement to our lives.

I'm 20 weeks pregnant, and halfway done. Baby is 10 inches long, and growing fast. I can't believe I can already say "5 months pregnant" when I feel like we just found out.
We've been having a laugh about all the guesses people are giving us. I have heard anything and everything about the way I'm carrying, my face, skin, and body shape. Everyone seems to just "know" that it's a boy, or a girl.
Last night Grandpa told me that baby was a tiny little girl, with lots of dark hair. He said she was beautiful, and her name would suit her perfectly.

We don't care, and Michael would like to not even find out. Whoever and whatever you are little baby, you are just what we wanted.

Inspiring S p a c e s... (Yazd, Iran: making home look like home)

2010-11-17T18:46:00.002-06:00

In the middle of the desert in Iran, there is an ancient city called Yazd. It's history dates back over 3,000 years, and the age shows in the beautiful architecture and mosaics. I have heard more stories about this city than I can count. Grandma's recollection of it is bitter and dry, and Grandpa talks about it like a love he lost many years ago. I like his stories best, because he has a place in his heart for Yazd like I do Oklahoma. Their families lived there for generations, and neither of them can recollect any part of our family coming from a different part of Iran. In their 50's they came here, following my parents, and left their home behind.

Angela recently visited Morocco, and after seeing her pictures I told her I would have to dig into my hundreds of photos I have saved to show her some of my favorite spaces with Middle Eastern influence.

Growing up, our home always looked like Yazd.

Layered Persian rugs, tapestries, intricate plates hung on walls, and lots of color. Even our meals that we share together as a family every Saturday are a reflection of home, and the culture we still enjoy from it. I always appreciated my parents incorporating these little bits of who we are into our every day life. It shaped and changed my senses to love anything that reminded me of Yazd, too.

Here are a few of my favorites that I have saved over the years. I apologize in advance that I never have sources for anything. Some of these photos are so old that I can't even remember where I got them from. I have owed Angela these for months, and I thought I would share with anyone else that is interested in a little ethnic inspiration.

Oh, my heart melts to the tune of a jewel-toned rug, layered pillows, and lanterns.

So it came as no surprise than when it was time to feather my own nest, I would find ways to pull bits and pieces of our culture into my every day.

Even my little spot at the last Arts Market is a piece of home.

Over the years I have found inspiration in so many different places, but none of them can compare to what runs through my blood, reminding me that Yazd holds a big piece of my heart, as well.

Coming home....(Colorado: Part Seven)

2010-11-15T21:06:00.002-06:00

After we left the sand dunes, we still had a long drive ahead of us. We settled in and hit the road for the last time that week.

We drove until we came to the Capulin Volcano in New Mexico, and stopped for one last adventure along the way. I'd never seen the inside of a volcano before. We paid $5 and they made us leave as soon as I took one picture because a storm was moving in, and the volcano is struck by lighting on a regular basis.

We also stopped at the tiny country store to pick up a souvenir and give thanks that we didn't live in a small town in the middle of nowhere. We spent our time browsing the store, listening to a customer complain to the cashier that Obama was a Muslim terrorist. She was in a wheelchair, and looked like she was living off the government. Irony.

We drove a few more hours until the mountains started to disappear, and everything started to look like home, again.

Finally, around 10:30 at night, we were home. We kissed the cats hello and climbed in our comfy bed for the night.

While we were away, my Mom had filled our fridge with all my favorites. Homemade yogurt, a fresh loaf of bread she baked, khoresth badam joon, and plates full of veggies from our garden - it had been busy growing while we were busy hiking.

Nothing feels better than coming home, again. I will leave and see every bit of the Earth just to have that feeling of home, after a long week away.

When we got back, I felt like I was a different person. Physically, I felt like I could run a marathon after what my body had been through. I would hop on Elsie and ride 20 miles without breaking a sweat, and I was excited to see where my body could take me over the next few months.

My huge surprise came Sunday morning, when I decided to take a pregnancy test. My period was two days late, and I couldn't shake the feeling that we had brought something more than pine cones and pictures home from Colorado, that week.

It was July 25th, 2010, and my life changed forever.

Later I would tell Michael that I wanted to remember everything about that moment. The way I felt, his reaction, the way the sun was coming through our bedroom windows. It would be our only first time to live in that moment - the one where we found out that in 9 months, we would be parents.

The story goes that I took the test alone. I didn't want to stir up any unnecessary feelings if there was nothing to even fuss about.
But there was something to fuss about, and I panicked, trying to think of any way to tell Michael.
So I did what I've always known how to do. I wrote him a letter.

I typed it in notepad, in tiny typewriter font after I got home from my bike ride. I left it on the bed and asked him to come in the room while I hid in the bathroom. He picked it up, furred brow, and I buried my face in a towel, not knowing what to expect. And he smiled. And shuffled on his feet like he does when something makes him so happy that his emotions can't keep up with the anchors at the bottom of his legs.
He came to pick me up, and kissed my head. He called me Mama.

It was been 4 months since we've been home from Colorado, and I wrote him that letter. Little baby, we still can not wait to show you the world.
On a trip into the middle of nowhere, we were forced to find ourselves in these rocky mountains and lungs full of fresh, cool air. When you are older, I will pull out these photos. One week spent pushing myself to places I didn't know I could go. All to get ready for you, baby. One day, when you are older, I will tell you all about the story of us.

The Sand Dunes... (Colorado: Part Six)

2010-11-13T00:00:00.002-06:00

We woke up in our hotel room Friday morning, rested from actually getting to sleep in a real bed for the night. We had planned on spending one more day in Colorado, but I was ready to get home and be back in our familiar routine. So we hit the road again, and drove until we came to Sand Dune National Park.

Everyone knows that walking/running/hiking in sand is like a bad dream where you're going nowhere fast. I was so sore from the last week of hiking, and summiting Mt. Elbert the day before, but I was so anxious to see more of this mysterious, random desert in the middle of the mountains.

So we spent a couple hours hiking...

Burying Hunter...

And digging our feet in the cool sand. It was so beautiful, I think I could have stayed there all day.

But we had a long trip ahead of us, with 9 and a half hours on the road before we would reach home, and find out the biggest news of our lives.

next: Coming home (and a little souvenir from our trip)

Dressing the bump (and addressing the changes)

2010-11-10T09:18:00.004-06:00

My least favorite thing to do every day is to find something to wear. I am guilty of living in yoga pants, barefoot, when I don't have to go to work.
Years of being an insecure teenage girl have led me to a point of confidence in myself, where I feel comfortable looking like me, and not ten pounds of hair, clothing, and accessories.

Watching my body grow and change adds a whole other difficulty to my morning routine. I'm in that in between where people squint at me and wonder if I'm pregnant, or if I've had too much beer.

Each and every day another pair of my favorite jeans goes out the door, and I'm confined to my less than beautiful maternity jeans. I think this is the most dangerous stage of pregnancy for any woman who has worked hard to take control of her confidence.

I am in my beginning stages of surrendering to Motherhood. In the first trimester I had to let go of my control over my body, and now I'm learning to let go of my ego, vanity, and strong self-awareness. I'm learning that with every week that passes, this becomes less about me, and more about what is growing inside my body. Good-bye size 0's, toned bellies and being able to bend over.
Hello to my new outtie belly button, curves, and growing hips.

Surrendering to the changes that are happening to me physically are going to be the easiest part of this adventure. Every day something new comes up, and some huge internal battle is ultimately lost to the idea of this little baby that is taking me over.
At least I can try to look cute in the process.

Climbing to the summit of Mt. Elbert... (Colorado: Part Five)

2010-11-08T12:58:00.002-06:00

We woke up early from a cold night of no sleep. When the alarm went off at 4:45 am, I felt like I had finally just shut my eyes for the first time, and it was already time to get up.
We were advised by a man we'd met in town to start our hike early. We needed to beat the early-afternoon lightning storms that come through the mountains.

When the alarm went off, it was still pitch black outside, and the last place we wanted to be was on a trail we didn't know in the dark. We decided to sleep for another couple hours before starting the hike.

We finally woke up around 7:00am, cooked eggs, and drank lots of water to get ready for our long day.

With only our Topographic map, we were immediately lost. We hiked for about 30 minutes before realizing we were actually on the Colorado Trail. There were no markings or directions at the actual trail head. At this point we were cranky to be starting the long hike only 4 hours before the first of the storms would roll in, and having wasted energy back-tracking.
It was 8:30am, we were a little above 10,000 feet in elevation, and we had 4,200 feet to climb.

I had heard someone describe the hike to Elbert's summit as climbing a 5,000 foot staircase. I didn't know it would be worse.

The climb was steep, and unforgiving. During the next few hours we only took 3 breaks. This was my first stop, and the one that made me realize I would not be stopping again for a long, long time. We were about an hour into our hike, and all I wanted to do was sit for a minute to catch my breath. Michael pleaded with me not to stop because he knew that I would have to break through the wall again, to be able to build up stamina to finish the hike.
And how right he was.
I sat for about 4 minutes, and we were off again. It felt like starting over, and I was angry at myself for taking a break so early on. We wouldn't stop again until we were above treeline.

The hike was nothing like I'd imagined. In my head I would take pictures, stop and admire the views, and generally have fun along the way.

For the most part, I can't tell you much about that day, except for the few things I'm talking about, now. I didn't take my camera out, I didn't look around, and I could barely think outside of just moving. Anytime my mind would wander from what I was doing, I was having to break through that wall again. So I didn't let my mind wander.

Everything hurts when you're climbing over 4,000 feet in only a few hours in freezing temperatures. My lungs hurt, my hair hurt, my fingernails hurt, my face hurt. You're producing ridiculous amounts of saliva and snot to the point where I turned into a 12 year old boy, shooting snot rockets and just moving on. For miles, I focused on a breathing pattern and didn't break it. We didn't talk, look at each other, or stop. We just pushed.
I worried about Hunter, knowing how I felt and wondering if his old bones were okay.

We passed hikers along the way that had turned back around 12,500 feet. Their dogs were showing stress and the storm was getting closer. We were halfway, and I couldn't let go of what we had come here to do. We kept hiking.

The 2nd time we stopped was around 13,000 feet. We had to make time to eat and hadn't stopped since our 4 minute break, miles back.
The air was getting thinner at this point, and I was starting to get worried. Hunter wouldn't eat, my hands were freezing, and we still had a long way to go. The steepest and rockiest part of our hike was still ahead, and I was starting to feel the affects of the elevation.

Miles away I imagined our little Yurt tucked into the mountains. I remembered sitting there 3 days ago and looking towards the point where I was sitting, now. We were here, and we would finish it.

From 13,000 feet to 14,433 was the point where I became what I like to call: mountain high. We were only functioning with half of the oxygen level we had when we first started our hike.
I was delirious. Almost crying one minute and laughing the next. Every time Michael would turn around and ask me if I was okay, I would say: "I'm fine, I'm just mountain high."

The last 1,000 feet of our hike looked like the picture above. Even though I knew we were almost there, part of me still wondered if I could make it over these rocks as I started hallucinating and my brain grasped for any oxygen it could take.

We were almost to the top, and the wind was piercing. We had no shelter or protection, and the clouds were getting thick. The temperature had dropped into the low 30's.

And then, after so many false summits, we were there. We finally made it.

It was 12:23 pm. It took us a little under 4 hours to climb 4,200 feet.

The summit was the 3rd and last break we took. I called my parents, we took a picture, and just as we put the camera away, the clouds surrounded us.
From the top of Mt. Elbert, you are looking down at every other summit in the Rocky Mountains. You can see Pike's Peak from there, and it feels like you're standing on top of the world. I was looking forward to this the most, but instead I was feeling ice cold rain on the back of my neck. But it wasn't rain.

The thunder was booming and we realized that it had started to sleet, and hail. We didn't have time to wait, and I didn't even get my chance to sit down. We ran. Down the rocks and steep trail, my knees were swollen and hurt more than anything. But we couldn't stop, and the freezing rain that fell on us for the next 2,000 feet down was a little bit of an I-just-summited-this-mountain buzzkill.

We didn't stop until we reached treeline, below 12,000 feet. We were soaked all the way through, and everything we had was ruined.

Fortunately my camera was still working, the lens was just foggy and cloudy. I had wrapped it in extra clothes and pushed it to the bottom of my backpack.
My phone was ruined.

In the shelter of the trees the sun started to peek out, and we saw this pretty little bird. It was the first time we'd smiled in over an hour.

Coming down was slow. A hike down that steep puts painful pressure on your knees. It took 3 hours to get back to camp, making our hike 7 hours long, total. (+30 minutes for getting lost in the beginning)

We took a nap when we got back to our tent, and I shamelessly begged to pick up camp and just head to a hotel for the night. We still had another full day of our trip planned, but all I wanted was to be home. I wasn't feeling well, my body hurt, and deep in my body a little baby was nestling in nice and cozy like. I just didn't know it, yet.

We took down our tent, packed, and headed to Leadville for dinner. I wanted a big greasy burger and fries, + a root beer to celebrate our summit. We passed Elbert on the way to town, and I saw a beam of sun breaking through. I was so thankful to not be at the top at that moment.

We decided to drive to Alamosa, so we could go to Sand Dune National Park in the morning before heading home.

It was a 3 hour drive, and for the last time that week, I saw Mt. Elbert. Even though I was standing in those clouds just hours before, I was still intimidated at the size and reality of it.
I watched the clouds swallow the summit as another storm pushed through.

This was a trip we could never forget.

next: Sand Dune National Park

Go o u t s i d e.

2010-11-07T10:37:00.000-06:00

These pictures were taken last weekend, at some nearby trails that we take Hunter to. Today we're heading out of town for a little road trip to go hiking. As much as I miss an extra hour of sunshine every evening, an extra hour to my weekend is always nice.

Happy Sunday, friends.

Setting up Primitive Camp...(Colorado: Part Four)

2010-11-03T21:19:00.002-05:00

It was Wednesday morning and we'd just gotten back into Leadville from our Yurts. We hadn't had a shower since Sunday night, and dropped by a laundry mat to do a load of laundry and take a shower.

We stopped at a little local Mexican restaurant and ate until our bellies were full. We'd been living off of Cliff Bars, beans & rice, bananas, and almonds for 2 days.

We drove about half an hour to Twin Lakes, where we would set up camp at the Mt. Elbert trail head. The moment I had been counting down to since February was just hours away.

Finding a spot to camp was a little less than easy. There was a campground close by, but Michael was dead set on a camp in the middle of nowhere.

The aspen trees were beautiful.

It was only 6:00pm and it was already almost freezing. We were at the highest
elevation I had ever camped in, and that night it would get down in the mid-30's.
The mosquitoes were the worst I've ever experienced.

We hurried to build a fire and set up our tent and tarps before the sun went down.
Michael cooked steaks over the fire while I packed all of our needed items for the morning hike. The hike. Everything I had researched and prepared for. Moleskin and band-aids, a first-aid kit, cliff bars and snacks full of carbs and protein, a camel back, my hiking socks, the boots I'd been wearing in for 4 months, extra clothes, flashlights, camera equipment, bug spray, and phones.

Hunter was out cold, still exhausted from our hike up Horseshoe Mountain. We'd already hiked over 30 miles in 3 days, and tomorrow we would add another 12. My old man was pooped.
I finally had reception on my phone for the first time in almost 3 days, and called my parents. I talked to them both, and they were both worried sick.
When we got home from our trip, My Mom told me that her and my Dad had stayed up all night, trying to use Google Satellite to find out where we were in case anything happened to us.

I slept terribly that night. It was freezing, I was scared to death of being in a flimsy tent in the middle of the Rocky Mountains with bears, cougars, and crazy mountain people out there with no help around for miles.

And mostly, I just stayed up thinking about Elbert. What would it be like? Would I be able to do it?
It was raining at this point.
Tomorrow the weather predicted storms, and I knew that if there were any lighting, on top of the 2nd tallest mountain in the United States was not where we wanted to be. One more thing to stay up all night worrying about...

next: Climbing to the summit of Mt. Elbert

A day of hiking....(Colorado: Part Three)

2010-11-01T22:42:00.002-05:00

We woke up rested in the Yurt on our first morning. The clouds were clearing up and we had a 5 hour hike ahead of us. I couldn't even see the summit of our climb from the yurt, and I knew we had a ways to go.

I have never just taken off from the middle of nowhere without a summit in sight, no trail, just to accomplish getting to the top. But there was something freeing and exciting...new and exhilarating about waking up, stretching, and heading off into nothing.

We passed the Bessies, broke fresh tracks and tried not to feel guilty trampling the beautiful Summer Colorado wildflowers.

Little by little we hiked farther away from our Yurt, and the only thing familiar. I kept turning around to make sure it was still there, not knowing that in a couple hours, I wouldn't even be able to see our Yurt anymore.

Some parts of the hike were harder than others. I know that around that 3 hour mark when I couldn't see the Yurt, my body grew tired and stiff with the sudden startling discovery of our isolation. It was quickly replaced with a sense of calm in knowing that we were okay. And even though this was something new and scary, it is always centering and worthy to step outside your comfort zone sometimes. Adaptability, strength, courage, excitement, experience. We could all use a little more in our lives.

And even here, there were things that reminded me of home. Each little home-shaped rock I tripped over was a note from the plains. It felt right to see something familiar in a sea of unfamiliarity.

My little mountain goat, taking a cold snow break.

This is a picture of me trying really hard to breathe. This little Oklahoma girl has lived at 1,000 feet above sea level her whole life, and almost 14,000 feet after hours of hiking makes for some flared nostrils and forced smiles.

The closer we got to the top, the rockier the climb became. We had to hike with our feet sideways to not slip down the mountain. And at every "summit" we thought we'd reached, there was another one right behind it.

(click to see full size)

And when we finally reached the top, and could rest our tired bones and appreciate the view....

All I could see was Mt. Elbert.
That damn mountain was once again reminding me that no matter how many mountains I climbed, how many goals I reached -it was still there. 1,200 feet higher than the spot I sat on, that took me hours to reach.

I started to realize that this climbing mountains thing was a lot like an endless rat race we all play in life. There is always something bigger, better, someone prettier, more talented.
And sometimes, enough if enough. You just need to accomplish that one big goal to be satisfied. To truly stop when you reach it, and break through a barrier that would have have held you back otherwise.
In February I found this mountain. And when I found it I showed Michael a picture and I said:

"I am going to climb to the top of this mountain. And after I do it, I will be able to do anything."

In my head I was doing everything. Having a baby, starting my own business, being at peace with myself and finally just feeling complete. Like I had accomplished the one thing I needed to do in life to prove to myself that I was going to be okay, from this point on.

And there was Elbert. Tired, flared nostrils, sore muscles, with a thunderstorm starting to roll in...I stared at that mountain. In two days I would climb it. And whether or not I finished was not up for debate, anymore.

It took us almost 2 hours to get back down to the reservoir. Hunter drank from it and I debated whether or not I would make it back up the hill to the Yurt. We were hurting, big time. And in my head I was secretly scared of the way my body felt after that day. I thought of Elbert again, before we hiked back to our Yurt right before the storm reached us.

Above treeline, high in the mountains, you don't look up at storms. You're in them. And in ten minutes you don't see anything, anymore. And you better hope for some shelter from the lighting and ice cold wind up there.

We built a fire that night. Made soup, and just....hurt.

Hunter passed out and slept all evening and all through the night. That was a lot of hiking for an old lab his age.

All evening while the storm beat on the outside of our little Yurt, we played board games, ate smores, and talked. I taught Michael how to win Monopoly, and in turn he beat me terribly after I professed that even though I know the rules to the dirty game, I refused to step on anyone on my way to the top, and would always lose at dog-eat-dog type board games.

We slept in a fort that night. We threw quilts over the top of our bunk bed and closed in our little bed, warm and cozy all night long. We slept like babies.

In the morning we woke up to the sunshine drying the last bits of the night's storm. I could wake up to this every morning.

It was our last few hours in the Yurt, and our last few hours away from every one and thing we knew. Soon we would drive to town to do a load of laundry at the laundry mat and pay way too much for their back-of-the-store showers.

Tonight we'd camp in the San Isabel Forest. And tomorrow morning, we'd find ourselves at the Mt. Elbert Trailhead.

I wished for one more night in the Yurt.

next: Part Three: Setting up Primitive Camp

Bump Break...

2010-10-31T10:11:00.003-05:00

I'm taking a short break in the Colorado posts to talk about this little bump.
In the last few weeks, it has grown from a little belly to something I find myself staring down at for most of the day. People ask me if I'm pregnant now, which I find brave, considering I'd never dare ask a woman a question that dangerous.

I don't mind when people rub my belly and no one has had to feel the wrath of this hormonal mess I am going through. I did however find myself drinking pickle juice at midnight, and felt overwhelmingly cliche.

A sweet client knit me this little pumpkin cap for next Fall. This time next year, we'll have a 6 month old to dress in a costume. It's terrifying how quickly life changes. A year ago was just yesterday, and a year ahead will be only tomorrow.

The truth about being pregnant is that it's been hard.
My whole life I've never had to slow down for anyone or anything. I am a busy body with big plans and long to-do's and the last few months have really taught me a lesson about myself.
This isn't about me anymore. I knew it going in, and I realize it loudly these last few weeks. My body is failing me, growing tired, heavy, and weak. Sickness, headaches, flooding emotions & changes in my body remind me that I is no longer singular and we are one unit, trying to get through 9 months and safely make it to the other side.

The hardest question I have been asked is: Do you like being pregnant?

Honestly, no, I don't. I always thought one day I would find myself in a sunny, perfect morning -pregnant, and beaming with the beauty and life that is motherhood. And the truth is, that day never came for me. It has been a rough road for me, losing control over a life I had tight reigns on. Some days, a lot of days, I am cussing at all the gross and perverse things that are going on with my body. We still call baby parasite, and one night Michael told me that he was worried I really felt that way.

I really feel that way.

This is our baby and I love it in ways I've never loved anything before. I love it like a thought or idea or figment of my imagination. A story, daydream, or vacation planned 9 long months in advance.

But it's still a parasite. Making me sick, tired, causing me to faint and get hives and eat things I don't want to eat.
I'm okay with this conclusion I have come to, and don't feel like it makes me any less of a Mother to feel this way.

So I guess I have to be honest and say that while I love the reward, the daydream, the figment that will be here this Spring, I don't love the process.
But I also will say that for every 346th time I go to the bathroom, or for every smell that makes me gag or pair of jeans I outgrow, there is something special, and almost, maybe almost sunny-beautiful-beaming-motherhoody about the first time you feel your baby move inside your own body.

For five days in a row, I have felt JuJu swim like a fantail goldfish across my belly. And each and every time I can go to that spot with my hands, and feel it under my skin. A little back, elbow, head...I can't even tell. & I probably shouldn't be poking. But I am also grateful for these days. The ones that remind me that maybe this whole thing isn't so disgusting and invasive, after all.

Hello, baby.

*PS, we find out Thanksgiving week if JuJu is a boy or girl.