creating in the midst: Jennifer Hoppins

Welcome to Creating in the Midst, an interview series where homeschooling parents talk about their creative lives.

Our guest this week is Jennifer Hoppins. Jenny is a mother of two, writer, artist, outdoor enthusiast, and one of my most supportive and encouraging friends. I met Jenny years ago through blogging, and look forward to one day sitting in the sunshine and sipping iced tea while picking her brain about all things writing and education.

The about page on her blog, Imagined, Remembered, Believed, reads: "Writing is engaging in memory and imagination and happens by trusting and believing in yourself." and what better words could usher us into our interview?

~What does an average day in your house look like? 

In our house, we begin working before we are fed, dressed and showered. For years I filled six am to seven with social media and coffee. (Who am I kidding? Curious George ended at 8:30 and my son was suddenly HUNGRY). In this way, I kept up with regular posting on my blog, chatted on fb, and generally gave myself plenty of time to wake up before rushing into chores or planning our educational projects. Lately, Elliot is no longer interested in the PBS programming and wakes earlier to squeeze in some Minecraft time while I make tea and breakfast. I now share less online, focusing more on developing my personal writing projects. In that liminal space before “school” begins, I often take notes on the writing knots I’ve tangled myself into. Sometimes I am brave and open the file of my book project.

Usually by 8:30, (a habitual schedule based on former television viewing) we eat breakfast and begin work on the general areas of study. This varies in no particular order from journal writing, reading, math, grammar workbooks and music. We save art and larger, all consuming projects for the afternoon. I consider our style of learning to be project based. The current project helps to shape the areas of academic focus. Recently we read the Birchbark House series by Louise Erdrich and are exploring early America through a Native American lens. I found some interesting workbooks that have a few inspiring projects, but sometimes an idea hits us and we just run with it. I have a friend who said “learning is like a spiral” and I agree. Two years ago we made a large tipi in the back yard and painted it with images inspired by Native art. At that time we weren't actively reading historical novels or informational texts on the subject. It was one of those whimsical ideas that suddenly land in my consciousness as a worthy time investment. It turned into a family activity and included neighborhood children who were delighted to come over and play.

We have discovered that whatever is living under the surface of our imaginations can be brought into the light and developed with great and lasting effect. The projects we've done individually and together as a family have enriched all of us. When we do a collaborative or individual project, Elliot remembers. The learning sticks. The stuff we do in the workbook fades.

So an average day in our house, during an active project, is usually messy, all consuming, and without deadlines. In between projects, I attempt to restore a measure of orderliness and maintain that, but it all eventually slides into something more interesting than clean.

At the end of the day, we read, take walks, or watch movies. Sometimes we venture out and go downtown. Sometimes we meet with local friends for play and conversation. Home education is the fullest, most active lifestyle I've ever experienced, even busier than when I was finishing college with a baby and an adolescent. People tell me that they could never do what I do, and I think silently that they wish they could. I say, take the leap. You will begin to know and understand your child in a way that you can never truly know them if they are still in school. And as you struggle to make sense out of the challenging topics they are meant to learn, you will also rediscover yourself. Especially if you simultaneously embark on your own creative life. You just might find that you are more valuable for who you are than what you do.

~Your writing is often emotional, and so full of hard won truths, so I’m curious...can you jump right in to writing, or do you need to ease into it? And similarly, can you jump back into your homeschooling life after writing, or do you need to ease in? 

When writing, I hope to evoke emotion in the imagined reader rather than being emotional. Through the actual writing of a piece, I will sometimes get caught up in a memory so powerful that I rush to write it using as much detail as I’m able before it vanishes. This leaves me feeling a little bit raw and dizzy for a while. I recently wrote about the most traumatic day of my life. A few days later, I experienced profound relief. It was as if the character that was me in the past (who exists now in a reconstructed form outside of myself) began to carry a large portion of that emotional burden.

In another way, memoir writing impacts my present moment. I’m reminded that I went through some kind of soul-fire, and now stand in new growth, more vigorous and ready to reach out for the life I’ve chosen. I become freshly aware that I am really happy now, even when things go wrong and my expectations get blown. I find that I want to go play outside with my family, riding bikes together, roller skating, hiking in the woods or building a fire. I want to look at the moon and stars and soak up everything that exists outside after being so intensely focused on my internal thoughts and feelings. To go right back to textbooks after a writing jag makes me feel impatient. I have pent up energy to burn and lively conversations that want to fly out of the silence. So this lifestyle does affect goals and schedules. In a word, we are fluid. There are no hard boundaries between the structured education and the one that we construct through our projects and activities.

~Can you tell us a little bit about your writing life?

At least half of it happens before I bring myself to the page. It is a thought process, sometimes born of a question that I’m trying to untangle. Sometimes I construct sentences and phrases in response to something I've heard or discussed. I was always the kind of person who came up with a response too late. In my childhood, I was trained to be a listener and not a speaker. I think I've spent my adulthood trying to have a voice. My writing life is becoming more natural as I age. In my thirties I knew I wanted to be a writer, but didn't feel confident enough to try. In my forties, this impulse and desire only grew stronger. I no longer feel that I’m not worthy to call myself a writer, despite the fact that I do not have a book published by a publishing house...nor that I've never before attempted this legitimizing process. This bold daring of calling myself a writer is a result of years of reading books on writing and then connecting with people who write. I can trace the development of my body of work (unpublished and self published) with the friendships I made in the blogging community. One friend read over fifteen of my stories through email exchanges. She critiqued each one and encouraged me to keep going, without a single negative comment or correction. Now, I know that this is not what is really supposed to happen...a truly honest critique will contain at least one thing to correct or adjust. But my friend believed in me so much that she gave me gift after gift of loving praise. From those words, my confidence grew. Today there’s not much to stop me from writing, no matter if I go to an official “academic style” critique group and they shred my lines in red pen. I know at least one person in the world will love it, and that is enough for me.

I write in the morning before getting out of bed. It’s not actual physical writing. I call it “writer’s mind.” It activates as soon as I become aware that I’m awake. Sentences form. I have to get out of bed and go downstairs to my journal. The pets always bug the heck out of me for breakfast, and I lose some of it. I keep scraps of paper by my bed to scribble the essence of it. I likewise write in the shower the same way. The best stuff comes to me when I am unable to write it down immediately. The writer’s mind happens when I’m driving. When I’m sewing. While washing the dishes. When I’m at the gym on the elliptical strider. It happens whenever I mow the lawn (loud buzzing and repetitive tasks draw me inward). I have a pile going now of scraps written on envelopes, copy paper, on post-its. There’s no order. There are no wide open blocks of time to put it all together. Except on Sunday mornings. And then, when the house is quiet and there are no expectations, a flow begins to pour. But it was all building like rain that collected and spilled over. If I am intense in the delivery, it’s because I've been waiting and waiting for the chance to get to my files.

~What measures do you take to protect your creativity?

I don’t. Then it builds until I can’t take it anymore and I end up blowing everybody and everything off until I've gotten something crafted that satisfies the need. It’s like thunderclouds that keep rising in the humid summer afternoon. The storm of words relieves the pressure. Then I go back to being present in the demands of chores, school, dinner, exercise and errands. We live in a beautiful southern city with many opportunities for learning outside of the home. We have many places to go, and several friends who invite us for play. These are all blessings and golden opportunities. So I have learned to integrate creativity in short sessions. I also have a handmade shop on Etsy. I discovered that having a customer helps to protect that creative time. When you have a due date for a project, it always gets done. But so many of my writing projects are open ended and never get the full attention and finishing touches that would make them shine. I realize how important it is to make deadlines to share my writing with someone.

~Do you need absolute quiet to write? Or do you prefer noise, and how does that impact your day?

I prefer rain falling on the roof and tapping on the windows. There is something magic that turns on my writer’s mind when there is a gentle, repetitive, natural noise. I should probably move to Seattle. Or put on my headphones and listen to rainforest sounds or meditation sound baths. But I’m learning to write amid interruptions and questions from my husband and son. They love to have me home with them instead of at the library, and I enjoy the comforts of home over the institutional and quiet spaces of study.

~Do you have a set time of day put aside for writing? 

I love mornings best of all. But evenings are nice too. Everything in between is too hectic to try.

~Do you set goals for your writing? 

No. Except for when I joined a writer’s critique group. That was amazingly motivational. And incredibly hard to swallow. I did once challenge myself to write 50 short stories in a ten month period. I made it to fifteen. 

~What is the most challenging aspect of being a writer and a homeschooling parent? 

The fluidity of our lifestyle. It helps and it restricts. If there were more boundaries for specific activities, I would probably produce more viable work. I need to get better at making deadlines to share what I’m working on.

~What is the most rewarding aspect of being a writer and a homeschooling parent? 

Being a homeschool parent has expanded my writing more than my traditional education. I must be immersed in the learning journey with Elliot, and this extends my worldview. I’m not limited by the old stuff that was taught to me years ago about life or writing or relationships. The world is new to me as a home educator. It’s always changing, there’s always more to discover. I used to be rigid and judgmental in my thinking. Now, the scope of topics and philosophical questioning is broader, deeper, filled with possibility. It continually flows outward and inward with every leading we follow.

~How do you feel about balance?  Is there such a thing?

I believe that there is a balance to life when I stop trying to control it. Things level out. Problems come to solutions. I’m not as desperate as I once was about making my idealistic versions be manifested on my schedule. Yes, we are busy. But one day, when my body is old and my child is grown, the house will be silent. It will be just me and the cat here. I’m not really looking forward to that much peace.

~Has your creative process changed since homeschooling?

YES!!! We are so very free to create our own learning, that we do something creative every single day. When reading aloud together, we are creating close bonds through our conversations. Since age seven, Elliot has been raising money through the sale of his ninja themed artwork for people experiencing homelessness. He paints a lot. He also has a special room we keep just for Lego building. In the backyard, my husband built a fort for Elliot that he got to help construct. It’s nearly finished. Inside, there is room for all of us to have a real camp out together. It has solar powered lights and a canvas tarp for a roof, so when we’re all inside, we can imagine we’re living in the colonial era. That we are surviving on a frontier. On a warm evening, we can bring in candles and read our historical fiction books. It makes everything feel so real, as if we’re living the story as it unfolds.

All of this helps my creative process. I know that everything good I've ever written came from a time when I immersed myself in life, fully, without the numbing distractions of cable TV, the internet, or radio stations that play ads. I have grown closer to my desire to write from seeking nature, from bonding with my child and my loving husband who takes a very active role in this journey. We are creating as well as receiving life as it arrives...and this is exactly how the writing happens for me. The more I create, the more raw material arrives to continue the flow. There is some kind of magic that comes from deciding to live fully in the moment first, really engaging with people and the natural world, then crafting useful pieces of it. I love to write scenes with landscapes. I love to absorb the sky in a piece. What clouds do is kind of what emotions do. Sometimes they float, sometimes they rage.

In this way, it does not matter if you are a beginning writer at the elementary level, just learning to write your first poem, or if you’re 89 and want to finally write the memoir that has burned in your heart all these years. Decide to live first, and the writing material will arrive of it’s own accord, like a gift. You can turn it away, or welcome it in.

~What advice would you give to someone who is passionate about their creative pursuits, and just starting out on their homeschooling journey?

I’m sure this has been said by many people, but finding a community of supportive people is a priority. If you take a risk and encounter a negative, unhealthy person, let them go and keep looking. The way to do this is to invest your attention into lives. Show that you are interested and care about others...and mean that sincerely. Do this and friends will arrive to reciprocate that love. Don’t limit yourself to the qualities that you think are ideal for a friendship. One of my friends is a former homeless person. She once was addicted to crack. Her mother was a librarian, and taught her daughter to love reading form birth. During her darkest days, when living in an abandoned building, she kept a backpack with library books. She read through the highs and lows. This friend continually supports me with a solid, steady flow of encouragement. Through her, I realize again how incredibly, abundantly blessed I am to have this exact life.

This knowledge inspires me to write through the challenges that led to the bursts of light.

Being creative means being expressive, and since I’m an introvert with a great need for expression, writing is the way I get that need met. My son is an extrovert who needs active, verbal engagement with people. I realize that his learning needs to happen as much outside of the house as it does inside. It needs to happen in a community, where he can have some exposure to his world. Maybe not exposure to all the hard things all at once, but to a life not washed out and handed back to him in a product designed to raise his test scores. He comes alive with purpose and imagination when the context for learning is not sterile and orderly like many traditional classrooms.

I think many of my writing blocks happened because my life was so constrained to home and school that I never really had anything exciting to write about. I couldn't breathe or share my thoughts aloud without encountering some kind of evaluation, correction or judgment. In order to get really healthy and happy, I had to get comfortable with who I am and how I respond to the world. That response means everything. And this is why anyone who wants to write should be absolutely encouraged to write, no matter if what they say is not mainstream...in fact, especially because it might not fit the status quo.

~Jenny, I can't thank you enough. Your words are so thoughtful, and inspiring to me. Just reading your responses make me want to jump into not only my writing, but into life in general! I love especially what you said about the challenge of the fluid lifestyle that comes with homeschooling. Thank you again!

Links for Jenny:
Imagined, Remembered, Believed

If you are a homeschooling parent who is in the midst of creative pursuits, or know someone who is, and would like to contribute to this series, please contact me at crnnoel(at)gmail(dot)com.

creating in the midst: Melanie Haney

Welcome to Creating in the Midst, a blog interview series that focuses on homeschooling parents who are in the midst of their own creative pursuits. Today marks our first interview, and I'm thrilled to introduce you all to my dear friend Melanie Haney.

Melanie is a homeschooling mother of four, a writer, creator, and photographer extraordinaire. She is the author of The Simplest of Acts: And Other Short Stories and The Perfect Mess, and she muses poetically about ordinary, beautiful moments on her blog: The Frozen Moon. And of course, I can personally recommend Melanie's photography business, Simply Mella Photography!

Without further adieu... onto the interview.

~What does an average day in the Haney house look like? 

 Oh, I don't know that I can say that any day looks like the next, especially in our living situation (two homeschooling families under one roof.) ;) Alex, my oldest, is a constant though. He wakes up, tends to the pets, gets breakfast for himself and Evie and is normally half way through his school work for the day before I've even made the first pot of coffee. Lila tends to need more guided instruction, but not much beyond assigning her specific subjects and/or pages to accomplish. Asher is in kindergarten and all of his learning has happened organically. I've let him lead, in part out of the busyness of life, and in part, because I just don't have the energy to push a five (now six) year old to copy his name for three pages, until he's doing it perfectly. Imagine my surprise, when he taught himself to read and do addition and subtraction, simply because he wanted to do so.

We are usually done "school" by noon or one at the latest, and then, if it's a day that we don't need to go out to co-ops or classes, the footsteps up and down the stairs begin and both floors of the house are littered with the chaos of eight children, two dogs and two cats. There are approximately eighty-two snack requests per day, two loads of laundry (and a third that gets washed and then forgotten and stuck to the sides of the washing machine tub, until the next day), two loading and unloading of the dishwasher, approximately one broken cup/plate/bowl per day (between the two floors) and at least three debates over screen time and what constitutes "educational" viewing material. Grocery shopping, meal planning, shuttling of children to and from drama, or choir or karate, all squish in there somehow too.

In the midst of the craziness, if I am able, I run/jog/walk for at least an hour in the day, and then again at night, on my sanity saving treadmill. Vinnie comes home from work and we essentially high-five to transfer the duties of parenting. I sneak to the basement during the bedtime routine, to start actually working on editing and responding to client emails, or, if I'm not backed up with work, I write. I stay up far too late, often past midnight, unable to pry myself away from the quiet, child-free time...and the binge watching of Mad Men.

 ~From the outside it appears that you bring a bit of creativity into all areas of your life - from photographing the ordinary moments that add up to a day, to decorating beautiful cakes and adding bits of garnish to dinner plates - is this something that you do naturally or something that you make an extra effort to do? 

 Truthfully, I just get bored very easily, and this leads to wanting to do things, like, make a fun cake or play around with cooking and plating dinner. Luckily, along the same lines, I am also inspired very easily. I think this is why I am so fascinated with the ordinary moments. I like to shower with the lights off, so that I can watch the sunlight catch the dust motes and then swirl in the steam while I'm rinsing my hair. It's like poetry. Of course, it's actually only me, not cleaning my bathroom well enough and then standing too long in the shower, with the curtain cracked enough to let the light in...but...I choose to see art and verse. I would much rather be busy than bored, and so, I take pictures, I opt for fresh whipped cream and maybe a patterned dusting of powdered sugar over dessert, I linger in good light and watch dust swirl...because all these things keep my mind, and soul, happy. It's not an effort, it's more of a creative compulsion, a drive.

 ~Can you tell us a little bit about your writing life? 

My writing life, if I'm being honest, is abysmal at the moment. I'm in the limbo of motherhood and career, somewhat clinging to the idea that by the time I'm forty, I'll have this miraculous wealth of time bestowed upon me, and I'll finally be free to write out all of the characters and stories that have taken up residence in my soul for the past decade. The practical woman in me knows this is not going to happen, and so, I have started to try to commit to writing *something fictional* at least once a month. Most of my other writing lately, is just in blog format, where I pour out whatever is on my heart, whatever situation has struck me as needing to be recorded for later remembrance. But, these are all just accounts of motherhood, womanhood and myself. But, non-fiction is not my genre, and I have worlds to write, scenes that haunt me and characters that nudge me to find the time...before I'm forty.

~What measures do you take to protect your creativity? 

I don't know that I take any. I think I just see most anything that I do, perhaps outside of filing taxes, as a potential creative outlet, and I embrace it. So, maybe that? Maybe creativity is a muscle, and I just flex it as often as possible. Humming and daydreaming while doing the laundry. Really feeling things, like the grit of dried oats in a bowl in the sink. People watching at the grocery store checkout line, imagining what they are making with those bundles of herbs and the white wrapped packages from the fish counter - a bottle of wine, maybe it's romantic, or maybe they're having company?

~Do you need absolute quiet to create, or do you prefer noise? And how does that impact your day? 

If we're talking specifically what I need to create writing - I need quiet. No children. No television. No music. Not even the sound of Vinnie chewing tortilla chips. (See above where I said I retreat to the basement.) Photography is the complete opposite. I like a bustling, swirling, life going on all around me, atmosphere, one where I can disappear and be invisible behind the lens...witnessing the art of life, of an elderly couple holding hands during a wedding toast, or a little girl twirling her hair during the first dance, eyes fixed on the bride on the floor. Stories everywhere, and instead of a pen, I shoot.

 ~What is the most challenging aspect of being a writer/photographer and homeschooling? 

The most challenging aspect is the silencing of mommy-guilt, turned client-guilt. I've gotten better at this, but there is still always a lingering doubt that I'm somehow failing someone at any given moment. It could be that I am convinced on a Tuesday that Lila will never pass her end-of-the-year exam, because I haven't devoted enough time to her multiplication skills - or it could be because I'm too quickly approaching a delivery deadline for a client and haven't had the time to sit long enough to finish their gallery. Or, it could be that I am still paying for my MFA in creative writing, but haven't worked earnestly on the novel that sits 3/4 of the way finished in a folder on my desktop.

Silencing the voice in my head that tells me I'm failing, that is the battle.

~What is the most rewarding aspect of being a writer/photographer and homeschooling? 

On the ride to co-op yesterday morning, Alex excitedly started to tell me all about how he was just reading about the Panama Canal the other day, how it was built and why and what a difference it made - and that the book he was reading right there in the van, was talking about Roosevelt and his connection to the Panama Canal. Alex loved connecting the dots, on his own, from two totally different texts. And I thought, what an amazing kid.

On the way to the circus today, Asher couldn't stop reading aloud every sign he laid eyes on. Grand Slam Pizza. CVS/Pharmacy. Union Oyster House. And I thought to myself, my son did this on his own. What an amazing kid.

Being a homeschool mom, I've come to find myself far less of a teacher than I thought I would be. In fact, I am a terrible teacher. I rely on Google and Khan Academy far more than I should admit. That said, the role I'm growing into is far more rewarding. I'm a witness. I'm their witness.

How homeschooling plays into my work is simple: most wedding and portrait photography takes place on the weekend. If my children were in traditional school, with after school activities, I would not see them. I'd witness them climbing a bus, and not in everyday moments, and certainly, not through my rear view mirror, smiling and telling Alex that his dad and I once went through the Panama Canal, too. (Of course, then he asked how it works - exactly - and so I told him, "we'll Google it when we get home.")

~How do you feel about the word balance? Is there such a thing? 

Balance is like happiness - it only really exists if you make your own. Happiness, I've got. Balance, I'm still working on. It requires going for a run and also doing some deep, thoughtful breathing techniques while stretching, or laying flat on my back and staring up at the ceiling...until I'm interrupted by a child or a dog. 

~Has your creative process changed due to homeschooling? 

Only in that it has made me need to be more intentional. I have "creative" work that is actually work (photography) and so, writing has become something that is limited to the quiet moments, when my editing queue is light, that I'm able to find.

~What advice would you give to someone who is passionate about their creative pursuits, and just starting out on their homeschooling journey? 

This might sound counter-intuitive, but, don't read (too much) about how other people do things. I know that my process is different than all of my homeschooling friends' processes, it's even different than my very creative best friend, living just one floor below me. It's a personal journey, one that you take with your family. And much like everything else in life, comparisons are never going to be fair. Will your son decide he wants to just learn how to read on his own? Maybe. Maybe not. Either way - it's fine.

The only way I've found to live through this journey, is to embrace it, every bumpy, confusing, am-I-making-a-monumental-mistake-moment of it.. Because, eventually, your children will read - and you'll witness it. Eventually, your children will do their first multiplication table and you'll talk about it over toast with jam - you'll witness it. Eventually, your children will want to talk about things like, how the Panama Canal was important - and you'll witness it. (You may need to brush up on your history lessons, but you'll do just fine.) 

And, eventually, possibly even sooner than reading or the discussions of the Panama Canal, you'll have time to be creative. If you're anything like me, you'll have to, as a matter of sanity.

The best advice I have, is to not look over your shoulder, or to your neighbor, or to Pinterest or even to blogs. I'm no expert. I'm just a photographer/writer/mom in the trenches, who used three clean bath towels to sop up the lake of water her four year old spilled all over the floor tonight, while she was doing a sanity-saving treadmill run. We're all learning, even the experts, even the people who post the most inspiring instagrams or post the most wonderful shares on Pinterest. Do what's best for you, creatively. And do what's best for your family.

Witnessing the journey is worth any sacrifice, I've found.

But...then again, I'm the woman who is clinging to aspirations of accomplishing more writing when she's forty.

~Melanie, thank you so much for your words here. I found myself nodding as I read countless times as I read through your answers! Thank you again!

Be sure to visit Melanie at:
Simply Mella Photography
The Frozen Moon

If you are a homeschooling parent who is in the midst of creative pursuits, or know someone who is, and would like to contribute to this series, please contact me at crnnoel(at)gmail(dot)com.

creating in the midst...

Today I'd like to introduce a series that will be unfolding here in the coming weeks: Creating in the Midst.

This past year as I've begun to dive deeper into my writing I've been more intentional with my time, creating space for my words... my art. It's been tricky, to say the least, with two kids at home who are not just vying for attention, but who are my responsibility to educate and walk beside through the day. Homeschooling is a choice that we stand by, and are so thankful for, but that brings with it unique challenges and struggles, especially when trying to fit a writing life into the picture.

While there are endless blog posts, essays, interviews, series, etc... for working parents who create, creative parents in general, and motherhood at large, creating in the midst of homeschooling is a subject that is severely lacking in support and guidance. While I've been able to learn much from all of the groups of work from various parents, this year in particular I've craved words from people who have been in my shoes, who create while also having their children of all ages underfoot.

And so, with Creating in the Midst, we will hear from writers and artists who are passionate about their creative work and who also homeschool {and I'm using the term homeschool to include the wide range of families from unschooling to traditional homeschooling}. Not to exclude any group of parents, but to encourage and learn from this specific group. There are many of us in this boat, trying to navigate our own creative pursuits while also honoring the time, space, and needs of our school age children. This happens regardless of how you chose to education your child, so I hope that many will read this series of conversations with an open mind.

Homeschooling our children brings so much joy and many challenges. Most days there is no nap time. Most days we are not actually at home. Most days don't look like the one before, or the one after. Most days we struggle - like any other parent - to find that elusive balance or even just a smidgen of peace and harmony. In choosing to homeschool we often choose a lifestyle of learning that knows no boundaries, where anything and everything is a life lesson. With that comes time constraints for our pursuits. Mental fatigue. Physical fatigue. And that can do a number on the creative process... the space one needs to hold for forming words and thoughts, let alone stories or essays! But all of these things can also enhance our creative lives.

There is nothing better than walking alongside a child, hearing their insights and seeing the world through their eyes, to expand the horizons of your creativity. 

I've got a wonderful group of homeschooling parents ready to participate in this series, and I look forward to learning from each of them. Our posts will be casual, in a Q&A format. I will be publishing the interviews/conversations here on Mondays as they come in. We might not have a post up every Monday, but keep a look out!

My hope is to encourage not only homeschooling parents, but any parent who feels lost in the depths of parenthood and is having a hard time finding their footing with their creative life. We don't have to give up our pursuits because we also want to have a family, and we don't have to give up the option of homeschooling because of our creative dreams and ambitions.

Everyone's process is different, everyone's lives are different, but hopefully we can find some commonalities and learn from each other... possibly catching that life preserver we all need thrown to us at one time or another on this incredible journey of creating in the midst of it all.

If you are a homeschooling parent who is in the midst of creative pursuits, or know someone who is, and would like to contribute to this series, please contact me at crnnoel(at)gmail(dot)com. 

April showers...

It's snowing. Big fluffy flakes that jump over the porch railing and dance on the wind.

Today was slow. We hung out in bed, my girl said "let's get up..." And then moments later she giggled and pulled the covers back up to her chin.

I'm noticing gray hairs and crows feet, but it's easy to look past those things in the mirror and focus on my eyes. Sometimes they sing.

There are baths to run, books to read, dinner to put on... but the snowflakes are dancing on the wind, laughing in the face of April showers.

March's book pile

March's list is diverse and full of both fiction and non fiction. Here we go...

1. Etched on Me: A Novel by Jenn Crowell
This novel was absolutely hearbreaking. I cried several times, and cringed through passages that if it were a movie I would have covered my eyes and hoped for the best, all the while expecting the worst. But the beauty of this book is that there's hope. Even if the main character can't find it, the minor characters that support her most certainly give and hold hope for her. A brilliant read, but be warned that the subject matter is difficult and you will find yourself raging at the injustice of bureaucracy...

2.This Perfect Mess by Melanie Haney
I met Melanie several years ago through blogging, and I've had the absolute pleasure of getting to know her in person and call her my friend. When I saw that she had self published a collection of short stories and essays I ordered it right away. Focusing on motherhood, Melanie has an honest way of sharing her truths, from the difficult to the beautiful and everything between. I love her writing, and will read anything that she puts out into the world!

3.The Life-Changing Magic of Tidying Up: The Japanese Art of Decluttering and Organizing by Marie Kondo
This book... I wanted to love it. And I liked it very much! But I did find that some of her practices were difficult to implement in a house with (relatively) small children. I did use her method for my clothing, which was an incredible process. It was so freeing to look at what I had in terms of what brought me joy, and the rest went out the door! I felt so much lighter after! What I took away from the book was the concept of only keeping what brings you joy, and I've moved through the house keeping that in mind, but also taking consideration the rest of the family. I'd love to do a whole sweep of the house, but I'm realizing that I'm not the one with the hoarding tendencies... if you catch my drift... and I'm working with the kids on this issue. What's interesting to me is what the kids say brings them joy. We went through their playroom and while there was a lot more left than I would have liked, they were able to weed down a bit. Long story short, I enjoyed the book, but found the author a bit... immature... but the concepts are certainly applicable to any household.

4.Flicker (The Shine on Trilogy) (Volume 1) by Anya Monroe
As mentioned last month, I enjoy Anya's books tremendously! This was no different, and I'm looking forward to reading the next two books in the trilogy... but I'm trying to pace myself!  I found the characters believable, and enjoyed their journeys to find purpose and light... and just like her other books - this wasn't a predictable ride!

5.Splinters of Light by Rachel Herron
I've read most of Rachel Herron's other work, and this was one of my favorite books that she's written. I've watched her writing career, from her first memoir to her steamy knitting inspired fiction {seriously, it's a thing!} and then her exploration into more.... serious... fiction. Splinters of Light was another heartbreaking story. It centered around a mother who finds out she has early onset Alzheimer's, and how it plays out with her and her family. While this was a heavy story, there was Herron's trademark humor to help pull us through.

6.Dear Thief: A Novel by Samantha Harvey
Oh boy. I loved the beginning of this book, and the language throughout. Samantha Harvey's writing reminds me of Jeanette Winterson... that luxurious use of words that capture emotion so masterfully. Ultimately the language and writing kept me reading, though by the second half I was bored and was fairly annoyed that the story kept going... BUT it's worth a try. With lines like:
 “When I got you home and we asked where you had been, you said, ‘I’ve been in an elevator, going up and down.’ So we sat you out in the garden at the mossy table and gave you tea, and asked you again. ‘I’ve been in an elevator, looking for love.’ ‘For two years?’ we asked. ‘Love is hard to find.” 
how could you not enjoy this book even just a little?

7.Beautiful Ruins: A Novel by Jess Walter
It took a few chapters for me to get into this one, but ultimately I loved it. I loved changing time line, the different perspectives, and the many - many - story lines that were all tied up together to make this gift of a book. The story spans decades, and was so fun to read... and now I want to watch Cleopatra... if you've read this you'll know why!

8.Tiny Beautiful Things: Advice on Love and Life from Dear Sugar by Cheryl Strayed
I didn't love Wild, Cheryl Strayed's memoir, so I wasn't sure what to expect from this book. I was blown away. Strayed writes with such honesty. The advice she gives in her columns is what you'd want your best friend to tell you... only you probably wouldn't listen because it's hard to take at times but it is ultimately all so true. The humanity that is shown in the pages - both from the letters that people write to her and her responss are eye opening, and heartwarming.  All I can really say is: read this book, you won't be sorry.

“I'll never know, and neither will you, of the life you don't choose. We'll only know that whatever that sister life was, it was important and beautiful and not ours. It was the ghost ship that didn't carry us. There's nothing to do but salute it from the shore.” ~ Cheryl Strayed

9.The Rosie Project: A Novel by Graeme Simsion
This was a cute story with a quirky narrator. I wanted to like it more than I actually did... I skimmed most of the second half because I wanted to know what happened, but I found the narrator very distracting and almost annoying {think Sheldon from The Big Bang theory... fun for 30 minutes at a time...} For this story I understand why the author chose to write it from the first person, and I appreciate being inside the character's head and some of the insights we gain from that. However, I think I would have preferred at least some sections to be third person - or even first, but from a different characters perspective. Again, a cute, light read!

10.Hausfrau: A Novel by Jill Alexander Essbaum
This is one of those stories where the writing was much better than the story, but still it was such a well crafted book. You can tell the author is a poet, her words are crafted in such a way that they make you feel all the feels. It reminded me a bit of The Awakening by Kate Chopin {which I liked better... for the record...} I was rooting for the main character right up to the end, waiting for her redemption. I won't give any spoilers, but I will say that I was incredibly disappointed in the ending. I'm sure some will argue that it was the only way to end the book, to stay true to the character, but I'll argue that there's always another way. Regardless, this was a well crafted book, and as a writer I appreciated the structure and the writing style.

~.~.~.

The past month or so I've loved hearing what you all have thought about some of the books on the monthly lists! As with all of the lists, I'm not recommending everything, just sharing what I've read. I take no responsibility for your enjoyment or displeasure in reading any of the books I've listed :)

What are you all reading this month?

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the duality of motherhood

{photo credit: my mom, June 2008}

A dozen mothers sat in a circle on the floor, toddlers bounding from laps to toys and back again. Pregnant with my second child, a daughter who was at that time the size of a watermelon in utero, I juggled my son who, at a year and a half, clung to me and my belly like glue. His chubby arms were around my neck, his head under my chin. That summer the heat was overpowering, and the whir of a window fan was the only source of relief until we mothers mustered the energy to get the children into swimsuits and outside to the kiddie pool. Toddlers stuck to sweat covered mamas, water bottles in a rainbow of colors sat between us as we took deep breaths of sticky July air and Cheerio dust.

I remember catching every single one of the mothers sighing deeply. We all commiserated with exhaustion, talking about how DONE we were. With motherhood. With sleepless nights. With dinner time battles and temper tantrums and not having a moment to ourselves. And yet. And yet every one of those mothers - myself included - had in their eyes a look of love held only for their offspring. A softness when their child came up to them needing something. A kindness reserved for boo boo’s and pouty lips. A well of patience that, as any mother will tell you, never truly runs dry.

I've never been a group person, and my time in mommy groups was short lived. However, I received a priceless gift from those playdates: the knowledge that I wasn't going crazy. As mothers we live with duality every moment. The intense love you have for a child still exists in the moments that you want to pull your hair out and walk out the door. The utter disgust that runs through your mind as you change a messy diaper, while at the same time gushing over the cuteness of a baby bum. And also the feeling of isolation that comes with the constant chatter of a child, constant movement and needs to take care of. The isolation that comes from never being alone. Duality, every moment of the day.

If I hadn't seen other mothers live first hand with these dual feelings, I would have thought I was the only one. I would have thought I was going insane. But with connection and conversation came the unspoken acknowledgement of the complicated and gray lives that mothers lead. Nothing is black and white. Nothing is simple. Everything is layered and changes moment to moment.

Outside the air hung around us, toddlers splashed and sat in the kiddie pools that were laid out in our hosts back yard. My son clung to my leg as I tried to inch him closer to the pool, hoping desperately that he would find a place among his peers. Wishing for a bit of space between our bodies to cool my skin, and at the same time praying that his body would never be far from mine.

collections and reflections

{Collections and Reflections...}

Seashells and painted stones line our windowsills, decorating chipped paint and smudged panes. Touchstones of quiet, reminders of waves and creativity... 

I've been thinking about how I used to write so much, online. About how blogging has changed, and I wonder if that's good or bad, or it just is. I'm reserving my words for the novel I'm working on, and focusing my energy there... but with that comes space from here, and the longer I go between posts the harder it is to write them. When I was writing daily on the blog, years ago, it became a habit. And words flowed more freely, and I didn't think so much before I wrote. 

Now I'm stuck in my head when it comes to sharing my writing here. I share bits and bobbles on Instagram, and they fill the space for writing publicly... for the most part. But there's still a longing for wide open spaces that blog posts offer. So I don't know. Stuck in my head. I think about all of the people who wrote the blogs I connected with years ago, and so many of them just stopped writing. Stopped putting things out there, stopped connecting in this vulnerable way. 

And that's the thing, when you're out of the practice of being vulnerable in a certain way, it takes a long time to get back there. To say, here I am. This is my offering. I don't care what you think, I'm here. 

Because sometimes we really do care what people think, regardless of how much we know their opinions of us don't truly matter. 

Maybe that's what this post is today, me dipping my toes into vulnerability once again. I'm here. Showing up. Trying once again to make a habit of connecting, opening up, spilling over and getting uncomfortable. What else is the point of blogging, anyway? 

February's book pile

February brought with it cold temperatures, lots of snow, and plenty of opportunities to curl up with a book {or ten....} Below are the books that I read this past month.... 

1. Free to Live: Create a Thriving Unschooling Home
by Pam Laricchia

As with Free to Learn: Five Ideas for a Joyful Unschooling Life I enjoyed Laricchia's thoughts on the unschooling. Free to Live is a continuation on her first book, and dives deeper into the unschooling lifestyle. A quick read that is full of insights and while some ideas seem obvious, others gave me pause and many YES! moments.

2.First Frost
by Sarah Addison Allen

Having read all of the authors previous works, I knew that I would be in for a treat reading First Frost. And I was not disappointed. First Frost is a sequel to Garden Spells (Bantam Discovery) , which I didn't realize before I started reading. But even without having read Garden Spells I would have enjoyed First Frost. Another quick read, Sarah Addison Allen weaves beautiful stories that are filled with human truths about love and life, but with a bit of magic that fills in the edges.

3.For Sure & Certain
By Anya Monore

I've followed Anya for over a year now on Instagram, and have been looking forward to the release of her books for almost as long! For Sure & Certain was her first published book, and I gobbled it up. The story was sweet, refreshing, and had plot twists that caught me off guard and kept me reading... and I might have cried at the end... it could have been because I stayed up until 2am finishing the book, or Anya's writing. Let's go with her writing!

4.Fog Island Mountains
by Michelle Bailat-Jones

Fog Island Mountains was one of my favorite books from this past year and then some. It's not only a lesson in Japanese culture, but a view into what our hearts do with grief. Bailat-Jone's writing reads like poetry, and I highly suggest reading this book slowly, savoring each word. It's a breathtaking and heartbreaking tale, one that I will reread again in the near future.

5.Fifty Shades of Grey (The Fifty Shades Trilogy)
by E.L.James

I know. But this is a judgement free zone, and I'm including this in the name of transparency. I'm late to the 50 shades party... but a friend of mine took me on a date to see the movie and then I HAD to read the book because I felt like there HAD to be more to it than in the movie. Obviously, I didn't read the book for the writing {which is subpar at best...} but for the story. And I found the story in the book much different than in the movie, in good ways. I enjoyed parts of the characters relationship that didn't transfer well on screen (the emails between them!! They were funny and sweet and could have definitely taken the edge off of the movie) The books and movie have brought up many discussions, lots of strong opinions, and huge issues. I've read much about it all and have read many well thought out and intelligent articles, if you're interested I can point you in their directions. But I'm not going to get into a big discussion here... I'll just say, I'm glad I read the book to see what all the hype was about, though I'm not sure I'll read the other two in the trilogy...

6.The Magician's Lie: A Novel
by Greer Macallister

I wanted to like this book, very much. I wanted it to be another Night Circus. But it lost me several times. The story itself was fascinating and interesting, but the author just couldn't keep me in it. That being said, it was enjoyable enough for me to finish, but wouldn't mark it a must read.

{You should know that my philosophy on reading is that life is short and there are too many books out there for me to read things that I don't enjoy. This past month alone I've put down three books I couldn't get into for various reasons. So if I've finished the book and it's on this list I enjoyed it on some level :) }

7.The Island Queen: Celia Thaxter of the Isles of Shoals
by Julia Older

Having grown up on the Seacoast of New Hampshire I've always had a fascinating with the Isles of Shoals, and of course a bit with Celia Thaxter. This historic fiction account of Celia's life was a fun, fascinating look at her art, the poets and story tellers that she rubbed shoulders with, and her love and family life. For me it was fun to read about places that I visit daily, the town that we live in was mentioned several times, as well as other spots on the East Coast that are familiar to me. I'm curious to read a biography and see how the stories told in the novel line up to her actual life. This book might turn some off from living on an island in the North Atlantic, but it made me long for ocean spray and being lulled to sleep by the waves... {I'll most definitely put a retreat on the Isles on my wish list!}

8.The Dream Catcher
by Anya Monroe

Her second book, and my favorite thus far! This story felt more developed than her first, the characters a bit deeper and more complex. I loved all of the characters, and I'm finding a love for the whole Young Adult scene. Just like For Sure & Certain, I finished this in a day... staying up way past my bedtime to find out what happened and how everything would turn out! Such an enjoyable read!

9.Euphoria
by Lily King

Oh my goodness... this book. This book held my interest for every single page, and I'm not really one for exploration and anthropological stuff. But the story is about a strange love triangle, and human nature... and so much more than all of that. The writing was excellent, and even though at first I wasn't sure of how I felt about the ending, it truly fit. All of it fit like an intricate jigsaw puzzle, and it left me in awe as a writer.

10.A Half Forgotten Song: A Novel (P.S.)
by Katherine Webb

February's book list ended on such a strong note! I hand't read anything else by Webb, but I'm aching to now. Webb's writing is intricate and lyrical, and every word is spot on. It was not a quick read, even though I couldn't put it down, because I didn't want to miss a single word. The characters in this book stretch you to find gray areas, and to find your comfort level with them. Because, as Webb talks about in the author Q&A at the end of the book, sometimes good people do bad things, and sometimes bad people do good things. I'm still stunned over the ending, and reminded that our memories are such individual things... two people will never remember an event in the exact same manner.

~~~~~

Phew! I'm not sure March will hold as much room for reading, as I'm making an effort to work on my own novel in a serious manner.... but I'm excited about my to-read pile.. and enjoyed revisiting February's pile. What are you all reading? Anything that you can't put down, or that has stuck with you long after you finished? I'd love to hear!

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28 Days of Play

Today I have the pleasure of participating in Rachel Cedar's 28 Days of Play series. For the month of February and into March, parents are sharing their thoughts on the subject of play. I've been reading along and there have been such wonderful insights and revelations about the way we as parents approach play with our children. It's truly an honor to lend my words to this series, and join the other moms and dads who are opening up about this complicated and full topic. 

 "I had an entirely different essay in the works. One filled with neat and tidy truths about how my family and I bring play into our lives. But the thing is that the neat and tidy truths don’t always give you the full story. The messy, won’t stop tugging at you truth, that’s where the beauty lies."

{Continue Reading Here}

Comments are closed here, but I'd love to read your thoughts over on the You Plus Two Parenting blog! Thank you for running such a beautiful series, Rachel! And a big thank you to Lindsey for connecting me with the project. Click on over and join me!

celebrating together

Yesterday we spent two hours in the woods across the river from our house. After we passed the sledding hill we didn't catch site of another human being for our entire adventure. The crunch and swish of our snowshoes kept us all company, as did little sibling squabbles and the occasional snowball hitting someones back...

The air was crisp and the sky grey, but the snow... the snow was brilliant. It took a long time for my eyes to adjust to all that white. The landscape looked like one gigantic white sheet - my depth perception was lost and more than once I stared until I could finally squint and see where the hill raised to meet the sky, where the inclines started and stopped.

Shortly after we started out it dawned on me and I shouted up ahead to Lucas, "Do you know what day it is?" He turned his head back towards me and smiled, "Yes." "Eleven years!" I yelled and threw my hands up into the air. 

Eleven years ago, yesterday, we went on our first date. During February, the month of love, we fell head over heels for each other. It was fast and hard, and we've been together ever since that first night when we ate at Finz, strolled around Salem and looked at ice sculptures. He was the first man who asked if he could kiss me as we said goodbye. I think it was that moment that I knew. I say I knew the night I met him, and I mean that, but on our first date, I really really knew. I cannot imagine life without him. He's my tall dark and handsome man, and even though real life isn't all romance and rainbows all the time, we've got it as good as anyone could ever hope or dream. 

Some years we remember our dating anniversary way in advance and plan for a night out. This year was not one of those years. Last minute we decided to make reservations for our favorite local restaurant. We ate and dined and gazed into each others eyes and reminisced about these last eleven years. We even walked to a little cafe for coffee and dessert after dinner. And most amazingly? We were a party of four. The kids came along on a date night that started after we'd normally eat dinner, and they were kind and thoughtful and participated in dinner conversation {"Bleck, love???" might have been the rudest comment that came from the peanut gallery, which isn't half bad!} and savored dessert and even thanked us for taking them along. Seriously. We've got it made with these two.

Yes, we like our date nights. And yes, going out just the two of us is necessary sometimes for the sake of everything that is good and holy. But how incredible is it to be able to enjoy a date night with your kids along to witness the love you have for each other, and to know when a special occasion comes that they are included? There may have been a few more trips to the restroom than normal, but last night was a good reminder that just because we have little ones and might not always plan for a sitter... that doesn't mean that we can't all enjoy a night out. The celebration of relationship milestones is really a celebration for the whole family. If it weren't for that first date, none of this would exist.

So we celebrated. Together. And then after a day of fresh air and exercise, an evening of good food and smiles and decadent desserts, the two of us fell into each others arms. Just like nearly every night of the last eleven years. Drunk on our life... happy, and better together than apart.

January's book pile...

You all know I love books. I love smelling them, fresh from the library or the Amazon box. I love holding them, the weight of pages filling my hands or sitting on my lap. I love thinking about the work and pride that went into each one. And I love reading... 

So, since I've enjoyed posts for years on what other people are reading. I've been so inspired by lists of books... from Lindsey to Kristen, Virginia and Kara to Danielle and Faith... just to name a few...  I thought I'd go ahead and start a monthly list of what I've read....

January's book pile...

1. The Lost Girls: Three Friends. Four Continents. One Unconventional Detour Around the World.
by Jennifer Baggett, Holly Corbett and Amanda Pressner

My writing buddy Les decided to start a book club, and this was the first book. I'll admit, I had a hard time getting into this book. It's a non fiction account of three friends journeying around the world, told in the three distinct voices of the authors. Once I got into the rhythm of each story teller the story flowed better, and I couldn't put it down! This book is a great one to read in the winter months, though make sure you're ready to deal with some major wander lust.

2. The Storied Life of A. J. Fikry: A Novel
by Gabrielle Zevin

I can't say enough good things about this sweet story. It's about a bookseller who has had his life turned upside down, and what happens to have it turned back upright and a bunch of twists along the way. It's a beautiful story, filled with nods to the literary world. It's a quick, feel good read that left me in tears.

3. The Ship of Brides: A Novel
by JoJo Moyes

I've read most of Moyes novels, and this one is in my top three. The Ship of Brides takes place after World War II, on an aircraft carrier. Hundreds of Australian war brides are making their way to England, and the story follows four of them on their journey. As always, expect the unexpected in the story. I find that it takes a few chapters for me to get into any of Moyes books, but once I get there I am in it, and can't put down the book until the ending where everything is tied together masterfully.

4. Outlining Your Novel: Map Your Way to Success
by K.M. Weiland

I'd seen this book around Instagram, pictured by other writers, for months. At a point where I needed some guidance on where to go with my novel, I finally picked up this book. Weiland sheds much light on the benefits of outlining, breaking down misconceptions that those of us who haven't used outlines before might make.... like that outlines stifle creativity and are boring {ahem....} She gives straight forward tips and hints to use to create your own outlining process. Because of this book I've been able to think about my novel in new ways, and don't feel nearly as overwhelmed as I did just a few weeks ago.

5. Windfallen
by JoJo Moyes

This Moyes second novel, and I loved seeing how her writing has changed over the years. Her newer books are more succinct, but this story has beautiful scenery and landscape details that her later books haven't included as much {possibly because of the location... this takes place in a seaside villiage} Another story filled with complex characters and interwoven stories.

6. Time of My Life: A Novel
by Allison Winn Scotch

I've had several of the authors books on my list for quite some time, but I finally requested them from the library. Time of My Life is a quick, entertaining read. The story line is something that I think we all think about from time to time - it all hinges on the question of "what if?" The main character gets a glimpse of what life could have been like if she had made a few different choices... and leaves the reader asking their own what if questions! A nice, enjoyable read for a snow day.

7. Free to Learn: Five Ideas for a Joyful Unschooling Life
by Pam Laricchia

After spending some time on Laricchia's blog I decided to take the plunge and buy all three of her books. I started with this one because it was her first book. She dives into the five "paradigm-changing" ideas about learning and living that she has found while on her family's journey of unschooling. Generally I shy away from labels and whatnot, but as of late I've realized that the way my family lives and learns alligns most with the unschooling principals. Unschooling, to me, is homeschooling without the curriculum, it's learning along side children, helping and guiding, not necessarily teaching. Now that my children are both reading I am more confident in the way that we spend our days, not guided by a curriculum, but by interests and curiosity. All that being said, I enjoyed Laricchia's book, and found myself nodding along as I read. Her writing is clear and concise, and she does a beautiful job of explaining unschooling without the severity that some radical unschoolers possess. {We are far from radical unschoolers... and I still hesitate to use a label of unschooling.... or any label at all. We do what works for us, and adjust as necessary... which I believe is the whole point of homeschooling in general!}A great read to add to the bookshelf for any homeschooling/unschooling family.

8. The Last Letter from Your Lover: A Novel
by JoJo Moyes

Yup. Another one by Moyes! At points this felt a bit like An Affair to Remember, but Moyes added her signature twists and turns and this ended up being another one of my favorites. One of the loveliest parts of this book was the idea of love letters... the power in letters and how we don't write them like we used to. Now it's all texts and emails. Remember what it felt like to get hand written notes, to see the penmanship of your loved one? I can still picture the handwritten notes and letters shared in high school, I bet I could pick out and identify friends and old boyfriends handwriting in a heartbeat. As with all of Moyes books, I read this in not quite two days. Her writing is easy to read and is utterly captivating.

9. The Theory of Opposites
by Allison Winn Scotch

As with Time of My Life, this story revolves around the idea of fate and destiny, and how much control we have over what happens in our life. Another enjoyable, quick read, though very similar to her other work. What I did find interesting was this is one of the few books I've read that deals with the impact social  media has on our lives - Facebook and texting in particular. I makes me wonder what dating would have been like if Facebook had been part of the equation {I joined facebook after the kids were born!} and what dating in the digital age is like now. I'm kind of thankful that Lucas and I were together before the days of FB stalking and public relationship status buttons!



There you have it, January's book pile. I'm excited for February, and all of the books on my shelf... the ones pictured above but not listed are the first to be read this month.What are you all reading? I'd love some suggestions!


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down the rabbit hole and back

Last night I traveled down the rabbit hole of Throw Back Thursday {#tbt if we're being all proper...because it's a thing...} which means I scrolled through years of photos on our server,and I let a few tears fall and smiled so big that my face hurt. 

Because seriously.... look at these toddlers!

So adorable. And squishable. And overwhelming for all of my senses. 

I scrolled and I scrolled, and then I got to the most recent years and I had to stop. I shuddered with disappointment because of the lack of photos. Instead of hundreds per month, we're down to.... well... lots less. And the quality, don't even get me started. The camera phone doesn't compare at all to the crystal clear photos of my DSLR. I couldn't even remember the last time I used my big girl camera. Last night I made a promise to myself to get out the big camera, and to capture photos like I used to. 

This morning I grabbed my big girl camera from the top shelf of a dining room bookcase. My boy was eating made by him cinnamon and sugar toast while reading a book on monsters. A perfect opportunity for the fancy camera, right? 

The batteries were dead. 

While I slipped the battery into its charger I grabbed my phone and took a picture. Then I looked through the most recent folders of digital photos, and I realized that even though I'm not taking hundreds of photos, I'm still taking photos. There's still documentation of the kids at every age, at every height, doing the things they do on a daily basis. It's not perfect, but it's something. 

I wonder about those days that were spent taking so many photos. It's funny how things change. Now, I need to snap fast if I want a picture of the kids - they move from one thing to the next so quickly, it's easy to miss it. And they're not right by my side, needing supervision every second of the day. I do revel in that. The freedom that comes as they get older. Their closeness granted me ample opportunities for close ups, but my sanity appreciates the breaks and the time spent in a book, or writing, or knitting while they play by themselves, read by themselves, or play with each other. 

There's also something to be said for not having the bulk of the DSLR between us. Now, when I'm immersed in a picture perfect moment with the kids, they really need my attention. They want me to listen, not to snap photos. We have conversations at the park, not just strolls to expend energy before naptime. They talk lots and have opinions and big questions... all of which need thought to answer instead of a smile and nod. It's funny how things shift, change. These subtle things that take me by surprise in motherhood.... 

Maybe now I'll keep the batteries charged in my big girl camera. It's nice to know it's there. But it's also nice to know that snapshots taken in haste between breaths with the smart phone are as good of reminders as any of moments spent immersed in life. 

2015... shaking things off

And so it begins, another year. 2014 was the year I spent dwelling on abundance, and low and behold there was much abundance. There was always enough of everything, if not more. Even when it didn't seem like it was possible. Food. Money. Shelter. Love. Patience. Health. 

I was searching for a word to assign to 2015. And then it came to me. Not a word, but an intention. A phrase. The kids both got mp3 players for Christmas, and having recently discovered the incredible world of Taylor Swift, my daughter bops around the house singing "Shake it off... shake it off..." her hips swaying, her eyes dancing, her tiny voice becoming not so tiny. 

This is the year that I will learn to shake it off. To not care what others think. To shake off the comments that aren't really about me, even if they sting. To shake off the slights that come by way of getting cut in line, or a rude person at the post office. Traffic. Misunderstandings. Bad moods. Bad vibes. Because like Taylor says... the hater's are going to hate, hate hate, and the fakers are going to fake, fake, fake, so I'm just going to shake it off, all of it. 

I might even swing my hips, and my voice might even grow while I'm at it... 

Are you focusing on an intention, a word, or a phrase this coming year? I'd love to know what it is! 

{Writing Naturally: Winter begins on Monday... there's still room to join!}

waiting...

'Tis the season of waiting. Of watching. Of listening and hoping and saying silent prayers of please and thank you all at the same time. It is the season of patience and wonder. Of creaming butter and sugar together, and drizzling chocolate and stirring endless cups of cocoa. Of the scent of pine wafting through the house, of needles on the floor and counting the days and the nights. It is the season of wide eyes and many questions and even more yes.

It truly is the most wonderful time of the year in our house...wishing you and yours a very blessed holiday season, and a happy new year!

silence laced with breath...

Last night the four of us snuggled in bed and watched the Toy Story Christmas special on TV. We sat under the heaviness of the down comforter, smooshed up against each other.Our hands all gravitated to the same place, and for a few moments there was no fidgeting, no "he's taking all the covers!" or "she's elbowing me!", no complaints about the spot they ended up with... just hand holding. I could feel all three of my favorite peoples skin at once. These are the small victories of motherhood, of life really. Connection. Touch. Love.

After the television turned off my girl asked me to snuggle her to sleep. Normally we try to give them time to wind down and hope they fall asleep on their own at this point. But they still ask often for someone to stay upstairs, or for snuggles. I said yes and her eyes danced. We snuggled together side by side in her flannel clad twin bed, flanked by countless stuffed animals. I looked across the room and caught my little guy's eye, in his own bed with his gazillion guys and books. After she fell asleep I migrated to his bed and got under the covers, his legs gravitated towards mine. 

The kids sleep so differently, it never ceases to amaze me how their personalities come out in their sleep patterns. He likes the covers up to his nose, and fidgets to sleep... but then once asleep sleeps soundly. She pushes covers off, lies still to fall asleep, and once asleep she never stops moving...

With his little body fidgeting next to mine I gazed up at the ceiling and started wondering about how many hours my husband and I have spent waiting for children to fall asleep. A lifetime. Two lifetimes. The thought and feel of my son as a tiny baby nursing to sleep came over me, and my body could feel his tininess. He would move non stop while nursing, and then all of a sudden his body would relax and sleep would overcome him. I'd use my index finger to break the latch, and a dribble of milk would decorate the side of his open mouth and cheek before it fell onto the sheets. The sheets always smelled of breast milk... 

Our children have never been "good" sleepers. My little guy spent the first year of his life being nursed and rocked to sleep... he spent only a handful of nights in his crib. My girl... oh my goodness. If we thought our son was a poor sleeper, we were so unprepared for her. She spent even less time in her crib than he did. We would rock, sway, bounce, sing, swaddle, anything to just get her to settle in for the night. There was a period of time when we literally walked her to sleep. She'd be in one of our arms, and we would pace the room, or the tiny apartment we were living in, until we could ease her into a bed - hers or ours - and then we'd cross our fingers for an hour of alone time before her next waking. 

I remember many nights, even ones not that long ago, where I felt trapped beneath a child, unable to move without waking someone. That feeling of going out of your own skin because you simply want time to yourself. During those moments of feeling suffocated, I wish I knew that it was okay to feel that. I wish I reminded myself that for every time I felt that way next to my child, my body tensing up when they moved and my voice stuck in my throat wanting to scream, there were ten others that I was able to sink in and enjoy the snuggles and cuddles and love on them. I wish I knew back then that those feelings are okay to have. To ride them out. That as a mother you're allowed to be human.

All I heard back then was how much I should enjoy every moment of motherhood. Every snuggle, every sleepless night, that I would miss them one day. Here's the thing, I miss their tininess. But I don't miss the time we spent trying to get them to sleep. At all. Relationships morph and change, and accepting them as they are is what makes magic. I still have closeness with my babies, it just looks a bit different since they are too big for me to carry in my arms for an hour as they fall asleep. 

But in the same light, I don't regret those times. Even the ones where I was jumping out of my skin. They're all part of our journey. And they're all okay. 

Last night I snuck back into my own room before he fell asleep all the way. It was late, and he has a way of ooching my rear end out of his bed. From the next room over I could hear him tossing and turning, and then all of a sudden there was silence, laced with breath...

Writing Naturally: Winter

November came and went in a heartbeat... I don't know how it's already December. I could say the same thing about 2014 in general. Didn't we just take down the Christmas tree from last year? Weren't we just baking gingerbread cookies and singing carols? Even with the feeling of the days and months slipping through my fingers, I'm glad we are here. The kids opened the first window of their chocolate advent calendar this morning... their expressions always of surprise and excitement as they find a bit of yummy chocolate in the tiny box. Today they were heart shaped, and they tell me they were so very delicious!

And with the change of seasons it's already time to think about the next session of Writing Naturally. I'm excited to share that registration for Writing Naturally: Winter is now open. Click over to see details. 

This last month I've wavered on whether or not I wanted to offer more sessions of my online writing course. Ultimately when I started it, I knew I wanted to offer it seasonally. But the more that time went on the more other courses I saw popping up, and I kept feeling like why should I offer mine when so many other people are offering theirs?  Why not? Every course that I see in the works is unique and designed by individuals who are creative and thoughtful and have their own take and spin on the writing process. I truly believe the same about Writing Naturally. And so I would love for you to join me. To be a part of the unique mix of daily emails and coaching, to inspire your writing journey, to write words and join in community and ask questions and dive into the process... 

Writing Naturally: Winter will take place January 5-16th. Give yourself the gift of setting aside time for your writing, give yourself a bed of words to fall into after the hectic holiday season. I'll be there, waiting with encouragement and inspiration. Join me.

Click here to see what previous participants are saying about their experience with Writing Naturally.

lost grains...

I find them everywhere, the grains of sand. In the slots between the wide wooden floorboards in the kitchen. Mid July finds me swearing at the grains. They stick to my feet and get dragged from room to room. The annoyance of sand on my feet, fresh out of the tub... bits of sand finding their way into carpets and shoes. 

But by February, even November, I long to find stray sand. Hanging out in a bucket, or a coat pocket. The bottom of a fabric grocery bag that was used to lug sand toys and beach towels to and from adventure days on the beach. The grins put smiles on my face as I remember the cry of gulls, and the warmth of the sun on my skin, the salt soaked bathing suits and SPF 30 drenched faces. The memories bring warmth when quilts won't do. The glimpses of sunshine, or the sunset of a perfect August evening. 

So next summer I will not dust my sandals off, clapping them as a call to forget, to leave it all behind. The grains... I will not sweep each one. I will remember, each summer, the cold of winter and the grain of sand... poetry for the hope of spring.

Walden with Mr. G...

We went in the name of irony. On a November night, with rain in the air, the signposts dark. He was from Canada, a guest at the hotel I where I was working. He was there every few weeks on business. Mr. G.... Mr, but he was only a few years older than myself, a college senior, living off campus and working 40 hours a week.

Walden, he said. Is it nearby?
Not far, I told him, let me look it up.

And then we hatched a plan, we'd go after my shift ended at 11:30. We rove down 95 to 495 in my little blue Saturn, windshield wipers furiously doing their job. I forget what we talked about. He made fun of how I said college. The Moulin Rouge soundtrack played through the speakers. We passed the parking lot on the left and barely saw the sign. I pulled over and hit the hazards. We jumped out, camera in his hand.

Take a picture of me in front of the sign! Laughter was on his voice.
Why are we doing this, again? I asked.

Back in the car he explained, his friend despised Thoreau. Mr. G... was indifferent to the writer, and always wanted to be contrary. And so years before Instagram selfies, we took his picture to send along to one of Thoreau's supposed biggest critics. A picture of Mr. G.... giving a thumbs up at Walden. It was then that I knew that there'd never be an us...who poses ironically at Walden? And it was that thought that was my final mental argument when I said goodbye for the last time to Mr. G...


{Written during one of the Writing Naturally workshops. I'll be revisiting pieces I've written during the in person workshops and the online course... and sharing here.}

grey sky

November is like this. Grey skies. Lots of grey skies. Darkness comes so early in the evenings... it always surprises me, every year. How it can start getting dark, the shadows changing, by 3pm is a mystery to me. It doesn't feel natural, and yet on the other hand it feels comforting and cozy and perfect.

NaNoWriMo is going well... I'm plugging along. The first day began and I struggled to work my way to the word count with my story from last year. It tugged at me, and not in a positive way, for the rest of the day. Sunday came and with it brought a bit of snow, and a lot of relaxing, and finally I was all tucked into my bed with flannel sheets and my laptop and I was ready to write. And then I couldn't. So I scrapped the story, last year's that I was so excited to work on and through, and then I started over. I easily caught up to the previous days word count and kept going. 

There's something to be said for resistance, absolutely. It's always there to help you. The trick is navigating what it means. In some cases it means "yes, the struggle is worth it." In others it's a true sign to let something go. 

I'm still learning those how to navigate the brutal honesty of resistance. 

{can you tell I'm reading The War on Art by Steven Pressfield? There are parts I love and parts I'm just kind of meh about... but it's worth it. I just wish the book were a little bigger because I find it truly award to hold... have you ever read a book like that? It just didn't physically fit... hmm...}

Back to the work, my friends... 

October

Well, hello there... long neglected blog. It's been a month. I haven't typed words here for the entire month of October. This month blew by like leaves carried on strong gusts of wind... with change in the air and color dancing across our eyes. 

This month held birthdays. Travels. Writing Naturally. Mentoring. School days. Sick days. Days. There has been much going on both on and offline. And it's all been good. 

Writing Naturally: October was an experience I will not soon forget. I was able to witness openings, awakenings, growth, and many ahha moments for the writers who participated. Amazing. {a few of the participants had some incredibly kind things to say about the course, they're over there on the "testimonials" page, look to the top and to the left!} There will be a Writing Naturally: Winter session, I'm thinking in January. Stay tuned... 

I'm sitting here with a cup of earl grey, and my novel from last November printed out. My trusty plain old college rule notepad that holds notes on where I wanted to go with the story, the second story line that needs to be woven through... 

Last year as many of you know the kids and I had Lyme, and I was on serious antibiotics for most of the month of November. It was not a pleasant experience... but during that experience I was also writing my heart out for NaNoWriMo. After November I took a break, and tried many times to go back to my story. I couldn't. I ended up having almost a physical reaction every time I opened up the file. I kept remembering the physicality of November, and it really doesn't have anything to do with writing. It's all tied up and meshed together in my head: the Lyme, the medicine, the fatigue and aches and pains and other issues, the story, the words.... 

And so this year I'm determined to move forward. Today I reprinted the story, and I'm excited. The kids can't stop talking about Halloween, and I can't stop thinking about how Saturday is the beginning of NaNoWriMo 2014! I'm going to rewrite my story, without feeling sick to my stomach every time I look at the stack of papers or open my computer. I'm going to push through. Because the story is there. It won't let me go. There's so much work to do, so many words to write {ahem... 50,000...} and it's going to happen. 

As long as it's been, as many gaps as there are on this blog, time wise, I still adore this space. I may not be a consistent blog writer any longer, but in this season of more work than blog it's nice to know it's still here. This space. I have a feeling it won't be another month before I'm back...