I’ve always been full of ideas. I’ve dreamt up too many Etsy shops, coffee houses, magazines, crafts, and stories to count.
But if you know me, you know that I do not have an Etsy shop. Nor do I run a coffee house or a magazine. Despite being a multi-passionate idea machine, allowing those ideas to have wings of their own and live outside of my head has been my greatest creative challenge.
I’m a little embarrassed to admit why this happens. But, I have a feeling I’m not alone in this struggle, so here goes. (more…)
I just learned something shocking about myself. It’s been true for years, but I had no idea until a little over a week ago.
First, a little background information: I come from a family of seamstresses. Two of my grandmothers are seamstresses, as is my mother. I grew up wearing handmade dresses and clothing my dolls with matching miniatures. My mom is so good, in fact, that she made my wedding dress.
With such talented ladies encouraging me, I learned to sew. At first with a needle, thread, and a swatch of scrap fabric. Then, with a machine. I made blankets for my Barbies and scarves for my dolls. And it was all fine and good. (more…)
I learned about setting boundaries in a room full of tiny humans.
I take my 16-month-old son to a RIE group where he can explore and interact with other littles his own age. But in all honesty, the class is for me.
I’m attempting to take a RIE approach to parenting my son – consciously fostering independence in him while being respectful of his needs and emotions. This may seem like a no-brainer, but it’s actually (more…)
Every so often I get itchy.
I don’t mean, I-must-be-allergic-to-something itchy. I mean, that feeling like something’s not quite right. Like my shoes don’t fit and I want to get out of the house and DO something, but I don’t know what. It’s when I hear my favorite song and it’s just that old song again. I feel stuck in a rut and desperately want to get out. (more…)
“I don’t regret anything.”
I used to say this. A lot.
I’ve made mistakes (some of them rather significant). Declaring that I didn’t regret anything was a way of owning it all. I felt like I was saying, “This is who I am, flaws and all. This is me: the good, the bad, and the ugly. Take it or leave it.”
I’m not sure where I got this philosophy from. Maybe I caught some (more…)
Every once in a while they creep up on me. I only know they’re here by the tightness in my chest, by the shortness of my breath, and by the slide show of ‘what ifs’ that flash before me, keeping me awake while I listen to the sounds of my partner sleep.
I’m talking about the Mean Reds. Or, in case you’ve never seen Breakfast at Tiffany’s, Fear (to be more specific, ALL the Fears). (more…)