they were dancing

On Saturday morning, the air was thick with the grumps. The "it took us 45 minutes to get out of the house just to go to the bakery" kind of grumps. The "nothing I said was the right thing" kind of grumps. You might know those kinds of grumps.

But we went to the bakery anyway.

And after a lot of questions like "why don't they have chocolate cupcakes today," they went to find us a table while I paid. As I waited for my chai tea latte, I looked up and saw this.

They were dancing.

Dancing.

And in that moment I thought to myself, "We're doing something right around here...even on the days it feels like things are upside down and we don't really know what we're doing."

Even on those days, there is dancing.

Yes.

seeking magic

At first glance, there was a little girl picking up grass from Grandma's yard and bringing it onto the deck and throwing it everywhere. And it would have been easy to say, "Stop making that mess."

But if you listened closely, you could hear a little girl singing a song about how fun it is to dance and decorate Grandma's house with beautiful golden sparkles as she ran back and forth and twirled and smiled and giggled.

And if you looked really close, you could learn this really beautiful lesson: You really can create your own magic.

Just like that.

(And sometimes letting them make a mess is the best parenting move you can make.)

the choice to be right here

Last night she curled up in bed with me and put her cheek against mine, using my face almost like a pillow, because she said she just couldn't get close enough to me. "You're just so cuddly Mama Kitty. I love how cuddly you are."

And I made the choice to just stay right there, listening to her breathing, feeling her body snug against mine. 

She should have been sleeping. Her bed time was 90 minutes before this moment. She's in a phase of not wanting to go to bed. Each night she tries on various techniques all with the purpose of spending more time with us. Writing it out like that, it sounds so sweet. But it has been intense. And I keep trying on different ways to be a parent. And some nights I feel my patience and Jon's thin as we crave even just five minutes to ask each other "How are you?" and have the space to answer with adult words.

Last night, as I made that choice to just hold her closer as we were then nose to nose, our heads sharing a pillow, I said, "You can stay until Daddy comes to bed. Then you have to go sleep in your bed." I made the choice knowing tonight she will more than likely try to say she must cuddle with me or she won't be able to sleep and how the list of three-year-old excuses will go on.

But I did it anyway. 

Looking into her blue eyes. Watching the way they slowly began to close even though she insisted she wasn't tired. Feeling her arms come around my neck as she kept saying, "I just love how cuddly you are Mama." Soaking it up because she is usually on the move and so rarely wants to cuddle. Letting myself be right there, imprinting it inside me so the me of 15 years from now will be able to unpack it and hold it close on the days I'll most need it.

I've found that often just being right here is the best parenting move I've got.

(And no, that photo isn't connected to the story in this post. It is from a few weeks ago when we made another choice to just be right here and soak up a day without rain even though it was cold and there were lots of orders for me to work on and a house to clean before visitors and things on the to-do list. But this moment was such a gift. I so rarely remember to take my big camera with me these days. This photo is to remind me to keep doing it. And to keep getting them outside because we all need it so much.)

i'm learning to ask and listen

Yesterday, Ellie was sitting on my lap and asked me what my necklace said. I explained it said, "Wildness" and that it is my word of the year. I talked about how I'll be inviting in more wildness in my life. 

She nodded in that way a three year old does when she's listening and thinking and taking it in.

Then I asked her, "What is your word of the year? What do you want this year to be like for you?"

And she looked me right in the eyes and said, "My life is good and calm and kind."

"Those are the things you want to invite into your life this year?"

"Yes."

"Me too."

I think wildness and good + calm + kind are going to be fantastic companions this year.

(And pairing this story with this photo this might have been the moment I decided to get back to Project Life. Yes.)

happy 2014

Eleanor Jane :: January 1, 2014 

May your year unfold
with kindess,
light,
ease,
peace,
joy,
and love love love.

Eleanor Jane :: January 1, 2013

2011 :: 2012

We continue the tradition of the New Year's Day photo of EJ in her shirt.

This year it doesn't cover her belly, and that makes me so darn happy because she is thriving!

She's decided she must wear it all day because "Woodstocky" (as we call him for "cutes") is one of her new favorite things.

And I have to share this one too. Because it just makes me smile so big.

Happy New Year to you and yours.

I really hope this year is full of kindness and love.