family

Love

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love

Let love guide you.

Let it guide every decision you make and every breath you take. Let it wash over you in a way that water does for your thirsty soul. Let it enter every breath you take and every move that happens each day.

Let love show you the way out of the darkness and into the light. Let it show you all the good and all the bad parts of life, even when you aren't ready to see them. Let love shine out of your face and seep from your pores.

Let love be the answer. To everything.

Whatever may come...

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My family from yesterday's shoot. Could they be any more gorgeous?

My family from yesterday's shoot. Could they be any more gorgeous?

I always go into shoots not really knowing what to expect. Every shoot is a little different. Maybe I have never met any of the family. Or maybe I know them all too well. But there is never an air of predictability about a shoot. There is always an air of uncertainty.

I actually like it this way. If I go in assuming something is going to be a certain way, I usually am caught off guard or disappointed. But when I can't predict it, I am almost more relaxed. I have a "whatever may come" attitude and approach which I think, in turn, puts everyone more at ease. There are no time constraints, no limits, no preconceived ideas about the day. Which usually makes everyone ease into their spots, becoming casually who they are....without even trying or knowing they are doing it.

 

Homegrown

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herbs

Each week, my share from Compost in my Shoe comes and I am always floored. The beauty. The care. The love that goes into these plants... it's remarkable. I have talked tirelessly about it recently. Shamelessly and tirelessly.

While I am a huge advocate from getting your food locally from people you know, I am also a huge advocate for growing your own stuff. This is not only good for you, it's good for the planet too! Pretty much everybody wins.

This is part of the share from this week. It smells DIVINE. I pull off this stock of herbs all week - putting them on fresh fish, in veggies, and in salad dressings. What doesn't get used up there gets tossed in a pot and turned into fresh juice or stock - vegetable or chicken. It turns into something we can use later. But it never, ever gets wasted.

I can't stress enough how happy I am that this is part of our life : fresh food, straight from the earth. If we get it from someone or if we get it from our yard. It's homegrown...with love...with purpose...with a mission.

 

He is back.

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footsie

He's back.

Gone for 5 days and what felt like an eternity on a school trip to Washington D.C., my little man is back - safe and sound. Sleeping well and just as ornery and surly as he ever was.

I wouldn't trade it for the world. The sass. The drama. The tween attitude. I really wouldn't. I am so happy for all of it here at home...sleeping soundly in bed with heavy covers over him and a battle of the wills from the moment he wakes up these days. He is safe. And he is home. And he is with me. And I couldn't ask for more.

You see, just before this trip, Graham lost a classmate unexpectedly. She was only 13 years old - far too soon to be gone. Far too soon for her parents to bury her in the ground already. We are all mourning this loss and her absence. It is a tragedy I cannot even imagine...a parent's worst nightmare altogether.

So when I say I don't mind the sass and the drama - I am not kidding. I am thinking of Lucy - her parents and her family and her classmates. I don't care about laundry or stinky feet or someone climbing in bed with me at 3 AM because they don't feel good. I don't care about the hardships that come with tweens or the struggles ahead with teenage drinking or bad grades or whatever our story may be. I don't really care about anything but this foot in my bed - safe, happy, loved, here.

So I am glad. He is back. He is here with us today. And that is something I will never take for granted.

 

Twelve and a bit.

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manlet

He is changing so much these days. Watching him grow and change before my eyes sorta makes me feel like I am watching a time lapse video of a plant emerging from the soil. It happens so fast. And each day I am sure he is another inch taller. Each moment, his face looks a little bit different.

I have many nephews. I have seen this happen up close and personal. I have watched them all emerge as young men in a matter of what seemed weeks. For the life of me, I just can't understand how it all happens so fast. Before you know it, 10 years of your life are gone. You blink again, and 20 years have passed you by like lightening. They become men.

These days are just slipping through my fingers. I hate how quick it's all happening. I hate that in a few short years, he will be off with friends on all-weekend benders. I hate that a few years after that he will be off at college and I will see him a half a dozen times a year - and beg him to shave and get a haircut and let me wash his clothes and feed him something nutritious.

If I could just slow it down a little more. If I could just pause the clock and sit with him on the couch for a few more minutes...if nothing more than just to watch him grow.

 

Happy 10 Years.

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home

Today has been 10 years that I have been in this home. Ten whole years. It's the longest I have lived in one home since I have been on my own.

When I originally stumbled across this place 10 years ago, I fell in love. But like many of the homes at the bubble of the housing boom in America, it had already had an offer on it. I came into the house feeling completely defeated and worn out. Because this place FELT like home to me. The huge, grassy yard. The quaint, white picket fences. The sweet, cottage feel. It suited everything about me at that time. Nothing needed any real work. A few light fixtures and perhaps a new coat of paint. That was all I really wanted. And it was right here, waiting for me.

Obviously, it all worked out in my favor. The other offer fell through. I eventually came up with a figure they could live with and we were finally on our way to a settled life rooted down in a great city.

I haven't changed much about these 2100 square feet all in the 10 years I have lived here. My furniture still sits in virtually the same spots as when I moved here 10 years ago. My kitchen is still painted the same sage color with the same Lowe's cabinets as the day I signed the paperwork declaring that this place was mine. But even though this place and it's contents haven't changed much, there has been a lot of changes around me. My mother, who we swiftly pulled up the 2 steps into my home in her cumbersome wheelchair, is now gone. So is my father, who helped me hang the dining room light fixture and slept in my guest room for a few months after my mother passed away. My sister – who visited me for a few weeks after my father passed away - just died last year. I have a few grey hairs and some more pounds to speak of. And my sweet little boy has grown from a little toddler to a full blown teenager - sass and all.

I suppose I haven't changed much about my home for this very reason. So much else has changed...that the sweet, calming, grounding sense I get from my home is perfect for me. I love coming home to the predictability of my outdated kitchen, my comfortable furniture and my familiarly hued walls.

I feel the need to thank my humble home for it's support and love over the years. It has comforted me and calmed me after long days and sad events. It's has supported me and protected me from harsh weather and storms. It has cradled me to sleep and held me through some tough economic times as a self-employed single mom who is just trying to make her way in this world.

I often have said "I just want to keep us in our home." Instead, what I realize is this home has been keeping me all these years.

Happy 10 years, Little Home. I can't wait to see what the next 10 bring us.

The Rebirth of Spring.

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eggs

By now, you may have figured out some of my favorite things are A) spring; B) flowers; C) all things spring; D) and some food.

It's true. And this time of year, I am quite shameless about my posts of flowers and sprouts and sunshine and weather.

I can't stop myself from feeling inspired at this time of year. And I usually ride the wave. While I do love winter and all it's bleak, sleepy, cocooning glory, I seem to embrace the energy of spring the most. The possibilities seem endless and inspiration is everywhere.

We are approaching my most favorite week of all - Easter week. While we are getting ready for an egg hunt - complete with plastic eggs and far too much chocolate- Spring awaits. The concept of Spring and Rebirth is embodied in this very holiday. The chance of refreshing and renewing one's life lies in every bloom, in every egg, in every little new life emerging right now. It seems to beg for us to rewrite those New Year's Resolutions into something we REALLY feel passion for.

Spring makes me feel rebirth is possible on every front. It makes me ready to embrace change once again. It makes me want to push through all the blocks and set my dreams free - like chicks from the egg...ready to fly away at any moment.

The fight against Time.

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gamers

These days are limited...these days of innocence and youth and wonder. We are on the precipice of something huge for this boy. He has literally (and I do mean literally) grown over and inch in a month. It's a matter of days on the calendar that I will be looking up at that sweet round face and those gorgeous green eyes. It's a matter of days that I will be worrying more than I ever could have imagined possible.

But days where playing card games is cool are coming to an all too brief ending. And as excited as I am for him, I have to say that I am equally as heartbroken that Time has to be so cruel. She has already stolen so much from me: My age. My baby. My parents. She steals the innocence of a pure heart...full of wonder, hope and possibility.

I will fight Time and her jaded ways. I will battle her every step of the way. Not because I don't want to age or grow wiser, but because I don't want it all to be over so darn fast. I want to linger here for a while, savoring a few things a little longer. The past 13 years have slipped through my fingers. Trying to stop it was like trying to hold ice on a sultry South Carolina summer day. It just happened despite my best efforts.

So I guess that's it. I will fight the process, even though it's bound to happen regardless. It doesn't mean I have to like it....even if I know it's coming.

Discipline

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homework

We have learned a lot around here these days on the topic of discipline. Not the "you are in trouble" kind. But the "get it done" kind of discipline. It's been a topic of conversation lately. I am no stickler for grades because I think we have an archaic system. Whose to say that grades are actually a measure of what you are learning. But we live in a system that doesn't want to change and seems to keep measuring our kids by the same standard we know doesn't work.

I digress.

When I noticed Graham's grades starting to slip, I decided to dig a little deeper. Turns out, my child has the same disorder most of the world suffers from - lack of discipline. His grades have been slipping because he lacks the discipline most 12 year old boys lack. He's distracted with hormones and friends and electronics and life. Because being 12 is actually harder than it looks.

So our work together these days is in getting the hard work done first...for both of us. I have to make the calls I don't want to or deal with the my looming and inevitable taxes. He has to read that extra chapter and study for those quizzes he knows are coming. In turn, I report to him about my struggles with work and he reports to me about his where his struggles are with school. End result: we both have a cheerleader and we both crossed crappy tasks off our lists of things to do.

I think kids need to learn early on that their struggles are real. However, I think they need to realize they aren't alone in them. I never knew my parents struggled. Or other kids. I think it's okay to tell them a little bit of that. Mostly, I think it's important for them to know they are not alone in their battles. They have support.

So we are learning a lot about discipline right now. And elbow grease. And grit. And hard, hard work. Sweaty work. Getting your hands dirty work. Not just here. But all over our lives. And the result is going to be the harvest he reaps come report card day.

And if it all works out, we just might celebrate with a little gelato!

 

Feeling Blue

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belladog

It's not easy being this girl...can't you tell?

Someone has a case of the blues today. Rainy days and busy people make for sad puppy dogs around these parts. I have been working my fanny off and haven't had as much time for fun with her. Not as many walks or balls thrown. And she feels it. Can't you tell.

Don't worry Bella. I see a happy forecast in your future of ball throwing and beach time. And that's a promise I can keep.

 

A posse of goodness

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Posse

Y'all...These kids. They slay me.

This is our neighborhood posse. These kids have known each other forever. They were born together. They have toddled around beaches and parks together. They have slept on each others bedroom floors.

This is real. This is the beginning right here. This is the stuff long term friendships are made of. This is the stuff you tell stories about in 30 years over cocktails and in wedding speeches. This is where life begins. This is where we begin to form who we are in this crazy world.

I couldn't ask for a better crew for my son to grow up with. They are honest and kind and sweet and good. And that's all I could ever ask for - a posse of goodness.

El Gato Diablo

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fezzie the cat

If you follow me on Facebook, you may have seen this video I posted about my life in hell recently. Only, in my world this happens at 2:19 AM...when I am (conveniently) sound asleep. And for no real reason but that she needs something that I haven't figured out. What's worse...I am wide awake for another 2 hours - minimum. Let's just say mornings here have been a little hard on me.

Don't let this face fool you. On the outside she's all fuzzy and cute. But on the inside, the devil lives there. Yes. I am sure of it. And as patient as I am with most animals, 2:19 AM is NOT a wake up time for food or water or whatever else you need to communicate that I am not giving you.

Someone please send her the memo.