I've been meaning to tell you.

My camera broke!  Can you believe the nerve of that beloved instrument?  I have to actually send it in!  And pay money!  And LIVE WITHOUT IT for 4 to 6 weeks!

Despair!  Misery!

Actually it seems I'm in denial.  It's been sitting here lifeless for several weeks and I can't force myself to take it in, and in the process of my denial, I'm forcing myself to live without it for even longer.

Pull yourself together, Brittany!  Just take it in!

Okay, I think I've managed to imagine myself driving to the store with my children in tow and giving my camera to a man who will take it away from me and send it far, far away.  But he promises to send it back to me all shiny and new and freshly clean.

Yes, I can see the day when my beloved instrument returns to me in the mail...at the shop?  (Do I have to drag the kids back in to the store?? Again?  It's so painful.  It takes so much energy.  I hardly have the energy to type this now just thinking about taking them all the way back to the store!  Do you know what it's like with TWO squirming toddlers?  They are strong.  And loud, too!  Maybe the other kids will be helpful?) 

Okay, it comes to me in the mail.

And I'm so grateful!  Almost as if it was meant to break, just so I could enjoy such a beautiful and newly perfect camera once more.  And it was all worth it in the end.

Here's the last picture from my camera: 



Isn't she cute?

See that little footprint?

So cute. 

Well, the cute person who made that footprint is about to send me to the loony bin.  At this point I'd just be glad to get some alone time in my padded cell.  Maybe some uninterrupted sleep?

She has boogers running down her face.  She wants me to hold her, but then while I have her in my arms, she'll try to peel my hands off her, like really, mom?  do you HAVE to be touching me?

Even though she keeps throwing all her food onto the floor, enraged, I still think she is sweet.  And I know that she probably just feels like there is a big clump of sand in her diaper.  Rubbing her biscuits raw.

Hello, 35. Nice to meetcha.

Dear Thirty-Five,

Let’s just get this out of the way: I didn’t like you at first. I’m sorry, it’s true.

But I think it’s because you made me feel anxious. And it’s like when my daughter feels hurt or sad, she lashes out. I heard the sound of you with my name and it scared me. But here’s the thing—I don’t feel any different. I feel good. So you must not be so bad. Remember that show, Thirty-something? Well I don’t. I never watched it because it was for old people. At least they sounded old to me. But now I know. That’s not even close to old. Who knows, maybe if that show was on today I’d watch it. Maybe it would still be lame, but at least it wouldn’t sound so old.

So I’m in my late thirties. Do you know what happened when you and I became one? My beloved Mr. Soucy took the day off work and sent me to Boston. Just for the fun of it. Just me and my book on the train! Just me and myself looking at all those beautiful things at the Museum of Fine Arts. So, Thirty-Five, you can’t be so bad because that was rad.

You know what else? I’m in a good place. It has taken, well, thirty-something years to get here, but I like the feeling of knowing myself—the good and the bad—and loving myself anyway. I like the reality of wisdom and clarity. I’m sure there is more of that to come and I’m looking forward to it. Do you know what else I like? Perspective. I like knowing that things change and hard times come and go and good times are to be embraced and remembered. The seasons are whipping by so quickly these days and if there is a lot of rain, I know to just hang on and the sun will eventually come out. If I can’t go out to my barn and paint, just hang on and eventually I will have the time. There is peace in perspective. It’s hard to be patient, but still. You know what I mean, right?

I just wanted to let you know that I’m glad you’re here. I’m gettin’ all geared up for you, Thirty-Five. Let’s take it one day at a time, one goal at a time. You and me.

With love,



Brittany

granola bars

Something I've been meaning to share...



I've been making home made granola bars and they are so yummy.  I like knowing exactly what is in them (and what's NOT in them).  It always seems a little easier to say yes to something sweet if it is made by Yours Truly. 



I use Ina's recipe.  Loosely.  You know, I put in what I have on hand and what my littles will like.  But mostly I copy Ina.  Because I love her.

(number 12)

wordless wednesday::a few things that made me happy this week

Translation:  I'm thankful for...
everything. 

Because it is special. 

Each and every thing is special to my family. 

Even the trees.
(6 years old)

a yummy sunday to you

madsen

Clicky there and I get entered to win a free one. 

The thought of sticking all five children in a bucket and riding into the sunset puts a smile on my face.  Piled high.  Doing tricks.  Maybe I could attach a high wire contraption and we could put on a show for the nieghbors as we ride by. 

Or we could just sit there quietly and watch the scenery.

Either way, it sure would be grand to win one, no?

grateful friday : medicine rain

As I help my first-grader with her homework, nothing I say is right. I try everything I can, every tone of voice, but no matter what is said or how it’s said, she is defensive and angry with me. I ignore her rudeness and take a deep, cleansing breath and try once more.

Nope.

As I begin the negative-talk inside my head about how I must be a horrible mother who makes her children feel bad about themselves, my brain rushes me to the past. Suddenly I am in southern Utah.

The bon fire filled the desert night with brightness, making the stars hard to see. There were people all around and they were focusing on me. I hate when lots of people are focusing on me. It makes me feel like hiding. I struggle to keep myself from running.


What would they see in me? This was my Naming Ceremony and they had thought about me and my qualities, my good and my bad; my strengths and my weaknesses. They had each thought about what I brought to the world and the people I come into contact with. I was a councilor to kids who needed help and understanding. Did I make a difference or did I leave The Field worrying about their struggles and trials every week for nothing?


The person I loved most in the world was in front of me. He looked like a desert nomad and I loved the ghost bead necklace and the shaggy hair and beard. My heart went soft and I struggled to focus on the words he was saying.


Medicine Rain. I am healing and wise. I am nourishing and life giving. I am like a medicine man of old, full of wisdom that heals those who need healing. I am like the medicine that goes into a body and fights the bad stuff hard enough that the body can heal. I am like water, hydrating all that is living and thirsty allowing life to flourish and grow. I am like the rain that falls from the sky and reaches everything, cleansing it and leaving it fresh and new.

My name is Medicine Rain. I am healing and wise. I am nourishing and life giving. I am gentle and kind.

I am back in my kitchen, the light casting its artificial yellow light through the room and the rain is coming down loudly outside. My darling girl sits working with a frown and a pencil with an eraser that has been all used up. She must be having a bad moment. I love her and she knows it.




I feel blessed that someone I trust with my life told me about myself. I’m grateful that he saw those things in me and told me about them. I’m happy that I choose him every day and I feel blessed that he still chooses me.

leg warmers

what could be easier to make than little tubes to warm tiny legs?

I just measured around little thighs, cut some stretchy fabric, and sewed straight (kind of) in a zig zag stitch.  Then I put them on and they played with string.  I love that we live in a time that we can just cut stuff up and leave the seam showing and call it a "ruffle" of sorts, don't you?  Now I'm going to go cut up some old sweaters and T-shirts to keep my babies warm this fall. 



xo,
Britt