Archive for December, 2010


i used to carry around this used up old bunny by the ears at all times.  once, i am sure, bunbun was fluffy and new but in my memory bunbun is already broken down and broken in.  she is a dusty brown animal who sits on her stomach and has two small front feet.  deep in her belly is a music box that must have worked when she was new.  her head is round with an eye on each side and her two long ears are narrow and stand up on their own.  there is a once pink now faded brown, threadbare, satin ribbon tied around her neck that i wrap around my pointer and middle fingers and rub against my upper lip as i suck my thumb to fall asleep.

truthfully her appearance is fuzzy in my mind but even as i try to recall what she looks like i can smell her already.  the scent of bunbun is so deeply ingrained in me that as i am typing out her description i smell her as though she is here in my arms.  i can feel the soft swish swish of that old ribbon on my lip and i can sense the heady calm brought on by her musky old scent filling me up as i close my eyes in the darkness at night.


somehow, the scent of bun bun was enough to make me feel lovehome.


now bunbun is long ago parked on the shelf in my old room at my parents house.  now when i have my face pressed into something in the darkest part of the night it would tend to be the pea who is still a tight knit cosleeper.  by two in the morning she has called for me and i have slipped into her mattress bed on the floor of their shared room.  for the rest of the night i waver between wishing for my own space and drowning myself in the overwhelmingly comforting scent of my daughter.  her head, her messy hair, her fleecey pajama’s, her arm draped over my face.  she smells now like bun bun did then – part overly loved and dirty part undistilled memory.  each cell that splits off her seems recognizable to my soul.


it is not the same as sleeping, this middle of the night olfactory blanket, but i know it shifts and slips away. presently, there is maybe a slim moment or two during the day when i might get a chance to bury my nose in the beans forest of hair to smell my way back through our long nights together when he was my only child.  a split second of a hug when i am transported by his specific scent back through time to a moment when i was his entire world.  soon i know the pea will also have grown up and out of her night time needs.  she will stop nursing, she will stop laying herself across me, she will stop needing her mama so much.


then i will close my eyes barely able to remember exactly what her pajama’s looked like, or just how old she was, but instantly surrounded by the memory of her scent.  lovehome.


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fresh hair

i have a weakness for getting my hair “done.”  (you know cut & colored.)

today was the kids last day of school for the forseeable future.  i had booked an appointment with jimmy – my hair doing god.

it was supposed to just be a cut but when i sat down in the chair he said, “we need color — if you have time.”

i am glad he insisted because i love it.  love it love it.

and the freshest part of all, “just pay me for the cut. the color is your christmas present!”  it wasn’t about the money part (though i appreciate it deeply) it was the surprise, unexpected, kindness of the gift.


(i tried to capture the gift with my iphone camera)


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did i mention i finished his sweater?

i followed the pattern as exactly as i could and the fit is just a little too big – just how i would have wanted it.  perfectly perfect except for one tiny little problem — the sleeves are about 5 inches to long.  sigh.  i still plan to gift it to him for christmas.

this is my favorite part:

the other day when we went christmas tree elfing both kids wanted to wear their dolls in their slings under their coats.  they got a lot of comments while we were out and about.  i thought it was heart achingly sweet.

(oliver has crazy hair.)

i love mixing herbal tea and the pea has a little cold so we made up a few things this morning:


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and then i

yesterday i think i really became a modern day hippie when i spent a few hours in the morning dicing, grating, and chopping my local, organic, community supported agriculture share veggies so i could try some lacto-fermenting.

now there are three ball jars sitting on the counter fermenting.

on purpose.

to be eaten.


actually, i am pretty excited.

hip hip hippeeeeeeeee!

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now i lay me

the other night i was laying in bed with the lights off, waiting for sleep to come, when i realized it had been awhile since i thought to meditate on the kids before i fell asleep.  i brought each of them into my mind and heart and set the intention to know what they needed from me the next day.  i wasn’t met with anything so it was a quick momentary practice.  then i realized what i was missing – meditating on me.


over the weekend i was fine.  i was ok.  but i wasn’t great.  flash kept asking me if i was ok and i was assuring him that i was because i was but still i was flat.  you know, just flat.


so i lay in bed and i asked for help:

please give me what i need to parent my children tomorrow.

please clean away any stagnant energy that i do not need while i sleep.

please fill me with clean pure energy and the energy i need to be the parent that my children need.

please fill me with patience and joy.

please wash away the built up irritation and counted tally of losses and regrets.

please make me strong, well rested, and able.

please help me.



it is not like the next day was filled with butterflies and unicorns but i did feel lighter.  i felt freer.  i was less stuck.  i wonder why it is so easy to forget to ask for help?  what is it about this time and place that makes “please help me,” such a difficult phrase to utter?


the next night i did it again.

and i will do it again.

and again.

until i forget.

so i can start again when i remember.

please help me.

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who is holding the magic

the other day i rushing down the main street in our town.  a little bit cold a little bit in a hurry a little bit excited a little bit stressed.  it was dark and ms. pea insisted i carry her as we scampered along with the bean’s mitten grip firm on my other hand.  we were headed to the tree lighting which i had gone back and forth about.  it was late for us and would make our bedtime late.  it was cold that night.  i wasn’t sure that either the kids or i had the energy to pull it off.  but, at the last minute we geared up and ran ourselves out of the house.  we parked several blocks away in a lot with plenty of space and began our mini trek to the park.

we walked through the dark evening lit up by the headlights of commuter traffic cutting through our town and my mind was still skipping about wondering what aspect of the evening to feel most worried about.  then the beans small feet stopped moving.  i looked up, caught by his mittened hand holding me back.  there was a small pick up truck coming down the street towards us pulling a parade style float behind – a lit up sleigh with santa claus riding in it.  he was waving to people as he passed.

is that santa claus?  mama, is that santa clause?!

i had a split second of wondering how to answer, less than a split second, and then i felt something slide and give away in my chest and i was taken over with joy.

it is!  beanie boy, there is santa claus coming down the street in our town!  wave beanie wave!  do you see him pea?  pea look – santa claus!

the bean was bouncing in place a little bit now and he stared his little shy boy wave.

“hi santa!” i called out at the sleigh and he turned towards us.  the bean’s shy boy wave took on some extra gumption and santa called out to him, “hello little boy!  merry christmas!”

my heart was leaping and pounding and the bean’s hand in mine was squeezing and squeezing and bouncing up and down.

when beanie was quite small i remember reading a bit of the debate out there about santa claus and christmas.  do you “lie” to your children and “pretend” there is a santa or do you tell “the truth” and say that santa is just a story.  i did think about it, i wondered, but the bean just hasn’t been that interested in santa so it didn’t matter.

in that moment, on main street in our little suburban town, in the cold dark rush to the tree lighting i realized it just wasn’t a question to me.  santa is as real as the joy that he brings. santa is as true as all my other belief in things unseen and magical.  santa is the spirit of the holiday season.  the bean, with his small hand tucked in mine and his voice shrill with awe had moved all my inner junk aside to show me – clearly and instantly – the magic.

in my life i have learned to live for magic.

so for us, santa is.

that moment was the beginning of me discovering the truth of what santa claus and christmas mean in my heart.  and for me, this year, the holiday season has felt so different than in years past.  instead of cautiously gaurding myself again all possible cheese factor i feel ready to embrace any person’s translation of christmas magic.  even those funny little decorations you see on cars.  really, they make me feel all squishy this year.

and i feel ever so thankful to my children for holding my hands tight and leading me in the direction of santa claus, of laughter and belief, of happy magic.

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i adored my lunch today.

really truly it was love(ly).

i know i have a unique relationship with food.  i like things JustSo and i tend to prefer to put it all together myself so that is JustSo and then also i JustLove food.  Love.  especially when it turns out exactly how i imagined it.

today was cold lemon roasted chicken breast

sliced cucumber

marinated olives

feta cheese

pickled radish

and a smallish hunk of fresh bread




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