|Wonderful women that I am still in touch with. Both are mothers now, too!|
|Oh gosh, that was probably a conservative estimate. I've never been good at estimating. I have no idea how many books I've read by now...but I did just buy a hardback copy of Salamadastron a couple weeks ago! Finally!|
This last picture is my personal favorite. It is...precious to me. And not because of my charming, youthful punctuation error.
When I skimmed through this book a few months ago, after having not seen it for...a decade or more? I felt a serious jolt when I came to that page. Of course I've always loved writing, and I've always been aware of that love, but...I didn't know. I didn't know the extent to which I was, right now in my life, living my childhood dream. There it is, in my own hand. I wanted to grow up to be a mother/author--(Fabio voice) and not the other way around.
What I desire to write changes from time to time--sometimes I have really focused on my picture books, sometimes I want to be serious about poetry, sometimes I've worked on a novel. Right now, I quite enjoy writing this blog, and so when I have time, that's where my attention goes. And my dream has expanded beyond just writing--I love to read and edit and help other people with writing. I love to write about birth, but I want to do more. So, I hope that one of the biggest accomplishments of my 26th year will be becoming a CAPPA-certified natural childbirth educator. I have all my books, my manual, and my training DVDs. I have created a schedule for when I want to complete each step of the certification. I am pretty much psyched out of my mind about it.
But even though those things are sometimes easier to make small-talk about, they represent a fraction of my life and my focus. I am a mother. I am a wife. And I love it oh so much. I love teaching Luke and laughing with him. I love family cuddle time on our bed. I love to relish in the bright-eyed, chubby beauty of my baby girl. And I love my sweet, joyful husband, who never gets down about anything, who wishes me Happy Birthday probably hundreds of times on my birthday.
Gosh it sounds trite to try to list it all out like that. Look, this is how I feel about my life:
Earlier this year, sometime in my final weeks of pregnancy, I woke up. It was exceedingly early, with only the tiniest bit of light sneaking around the edge of the curtain. Luke had come to cuddle in the night, seeking his daddy's warmth in the air-conditioned chill. I laid there, pressed back to back with Nick. The symmetry of our arrangement in bed pleased me-- baby Mama Dada toddler. Baby girl kicked and wiggled a bit, to let me know that she was awake too. I laid there, with my heavy belly sunk into the memory foam, surrounded by my family, and I could not stop smiling. I was too happy for tears. I wanted to scream and shoot lasers out of my hands and blast through the roof of our apartment and rocket through the sky until I punched through the atmosphere, because surely my joy could not be contained on this planet. But to do any of those things would break the tender slumber of my husband and son, and would disrupt the antics of my enwombed baby girl. So, for the better part of an hour, until I fell back asleep, I grinned madly to the point of face-ache.
Here's to 26 more years as happy as that.