I didn't bring the camera to our Thanksgiving, but we had a great celebration with friends and lots of delicious food.  So, forgive me, but this is the only photo I have right now, crooked glasses and all. 

I'm grateful for so much- friends and family always. Good communities that are there in good times and hard ones, with conversation and food and company. I'm thankful for living in a city with great theater and music and restaurants and of course, the coffee. I'm thankful that Chris and I are both excited about our jobs right now. I'm grateful that we have found such great educational communities for our kids, even when they're not perfect. I'm thankful that no one in our family has any broken bones right now.  I'm thankful for growth and changes, and taking a minute to reflect. I'm so grateful that I found my way to the Religious Society of Friends, and that even when they drive me crazy, Quakers are there inspiring me to be a better person. I'm thankful for the books and the yarn that are my constant companions, and for the ways that technology can help us all stay connected. 

Happy Thanksgiving Friends. 

Queen of Small Moments

This weekend we had self-portraits and sibling portraits. 

Chris had a one man circle pit, with his music and his wheels.

                                             
  We dressed up and played house. Went swimming and hung out with some friends. Brixton had a playdate with a set of triplets that we know from Meeting for Worship.
                             

I'm grateful for each day of him getting better, each day of our family being loved and supported and fed (physically and emotionally and spiritually) by our communities. I'm thankful for bones that heal, and family dance parties to Led Zeppelin and friends that stop by with zines and stories. 

For all this, even this, yes, this. 

self portrait

 

This is Unity's self portrait from art class. She gave herself earings and lots of bright colors, of course. That is my girl, full of color and fancy.

 

One of the big changes that Kindergarten has brought is that there is a bigger piece of her life that is a mystery to me. When she was in preschool I knew who her friends were, I knew how she played with them, I knew her favorite works and I had a pretty good idea of how she interacted with her environment.

 

Maybe that's coming, with time. I do have an idea of who her friends are ( and I am still instrumental in defining her friendships, a role I am in no way ready to release) and I hear fragments of her days, I see the worksheets and the stories as they come home. But it is clearly true, that there is a big piece of her life that belongs only to her now, a self portrait she has to show me when she comes home. (Or I have to ask and plead to see, as the case may be.)

 

I know this is what happens. My job is to help her let me go. Not completely of course, and over a long period of time but still. My job is to prepare and nourish the soil where she will inch into her own vibrant tall-stalked self.

 

It's a good thing no one told me about this part when I was a new mom, holding the small squalling collection of needs that came from my body, that felt like another extension of my body. Or maybe they did tell me and I couldn't hear it, this is an old old story after all. That first mad rush into love, when there are no boundaries between Self and the Beloved, when you become each other. And then, always, the realization of boundaries, of limits, of the edge of limbs and hearts. Learning to say, over and again, "Hello, here I am again" and teaching each other again, how to know, how to love each other.

 

She's bringing home her self portrait. She's teaching me who she is.