Everly Says…
“A man just ran by that window NAY TED (naked)!!!”
Said our daughter, who gave us quite a fright, until we realized she had confused the meaning of being naked with someone not wearing a shirt.
“A man just ran by that window NAY TED (naked)!!!”
Said our daughter, who gave us quite a fright, until we realized she had confused the meaning of being naked with someone not wearing a shirt.
They warm my heart through and through.
Song: Households by Sleeping At Last
Love,
M
When we bought our little white house on a quiet street, I was immediately drawn to the skinny park that ran the length of the neighborhood loop. It reminded me of a tiny version of Panhandle park where Brent and I spent countless days when we lived in San Francisco.
It’s a little narrow strip of land, maintained by the city, where Crepe Myrtle trees and Long Leaf Pines dot the green grass and a few neighbors have claimed small portions of it for vegetable gardens.
I am guilty of sometimes sneaking over when the the snowball hydrangeas hang heavy with blooms to snip off big clusters of white flowers to put around our house.
Our little park just barely qualifies as one, but it is where we escape when we need to get out of the confines of our own house and yard but don’t have the time or energy to go far.
We have come to love it as our own. A place where the kids run free and Brent and I lay happy in the shade of the trees. Right now, the buttercups are blooming and of all the gifts this little island of green gives to us, it is this event that tops the list.
The buttercups are here
and we are counting them
picking them
dancing in them
swimming through them
every day
until they go.
Love,
M
The kids and I were on a playground on Saturday when I heard another couple discussing Arlo’s sunglasses. I couldn’t find his regular ones and so I had put him in a pair of too-big green ones that we keep in the car as back-ups.
We do not go outside without a hat and sunglasses for our son. Arlo’s albinism causes a condition called Photophobia that makes his eyes extremely sensitive to sunlight (and even some bright indoor lighting). If you have ever experienced the discomfort of walking into a bright room after being in a dark one, you can get a small sense of what it is like for him. He can’t tell us what exactly he is experiencing yet but others with the condition describe it as often blinding and very painful to be outside on a bright day without sunglasses.
When he was a tiny infant, we noticed how he would try to shield his eyes and close them tightly whenever we took him out. It wasn’t until he was diagnosed with albinism that we realized just how uncomfortable he had been. Even now, should we find ourselves in a situation where it is bright out and he doesn’t have his glasses, he has learned to tuck his head into my shoulder to hide his eyes.
So we are diligent about hats (which provide some shade for his eyes) and sunglasses. We have several pairs, including some high-end ray-bans which under most circumstances seem frivilous to put on a toddler - but they have high quality, dark lenses and fit his face the best. He has always hated the strap-on type that most folks in the albinism community recommend, so we go with what works.
At the park on Saturday, his back-up sunnies didn’t fit his face well and would slip down his nose every few minutes. As a typical toddler, there are some days when he is just not in a mood to wear a hat or glasses, no matter how uncomfortable he is, but on this day, he was trying his best to keep them on.
I kept going over to help him adjust them and tried to tuck them into his hat to help him keep them on.
I heard the woman next to us say loudly enough for me to hear, “How sad that lady is forcing that little boy to wear all those stupid accessories. Just let him play.”
It made all of the blood rush to my face and tears fill my eyes. My first instinct was to go over there and give her a piece of my mind, but I didn’t. I took a deep breath, and then another, and collected myself. I watched Arlo and Everly chase each other around the playground while he kept pushing those poorly fitting glasses up his nose over and over again.
I wished he could play without all of those “stupid accessories” too but I was really proud that he was patient enough to try and keep them on, despite the fact that they were clearly an annoyance. We are teaching our son to advocate for himself and want to normalize any of the measures we have to take that might make his experience different from most children.
Arlo’s albinism means we have to be obsessive about sunscreen (we always carry a bottle with us) and very thoughtful about when and where we take him to play. We know all of the playgrounds in our area that are covered by big shade trees. We carry a pop up tent and an umbrella in the car at all times to provide extra shade if we are somewhere that doesn’t have any protection. While we want him to learn to think about how to protect his skin and eyes as he grows, we never want to make a big deal out of it. We want him to know that it is just a thing and that every single one of us has a “thing” whether others know it or not.
As for the lady on the playground… I suppose I should have confronted her and explained why he had to wear sunglasses in the first place. It would have made me feel validated and possibly made her feel ashamed for judging us - but instead I just felt compelled to ignore her. If there is anything parenthood has taught me, it’s to stand tall in what I know is right for my kids regardless of judgement from others.
The children were oblivious to the whole thing, but it made me think a lot about the confidence we hope to instill in them. Speak up when you want to, but don’t feel like you always need to explain yourself. We do what we have to do and we make the very most of what we’ve got.
And for me, the thing I got was two beautiful, happy kids, running around a playground and a little boy who makes his mama so proud every time he puts on his hat and glasses.
Love,
M
It has been a hard and heavy week and I am ready to hear the corporate America door close behind me and soak in the goodness of my family for a few days. Our plans include barefeet, returning overdue library books, tackling laundry, pulling weeds and balancing little bodies on the balls of my feet while they pretend to be airplanes. We plan to spoil our appetites with frozen yogurt before lunch and to take a trip to our favorite field in all of Raleigh for some wide open and wild galloping. A healthy mix of the have-to-do with the want-to-do should have me in top fighting shape before another work week begins.
Can I tell you two more things that I am ready for? Running my fingers through the wiley, strawberry blonde curls on my son’s head and listening to Dovie’s funny “what I did today” recap. Every work day, when I am away from them, I crave those simple, precious exchanges.
Friday afternoons are most definitely the worse - as the anticipation of getting home to them is enough to drive me crazy sometimes. Hurry up, weekend.
Love,
M
(To the nurse at our pediatricians office, while standing on the scale, and in the sweetest most innocent voice you can imagine)
Everly: When I….(pauses and blinks her sweet little doe eyes up at the nurse) …When I grow up, I get a knife!!
At this point, the nurse looks up at us like, what kind of devil spawn child do you have here? We had to explain the backstory. Everly knows that she is too little to use a knife when we eat, so she has begun to use it as a measurement of age. Like “Mama, is that girl old enough to use a knife?” It has become one of those off-limits things that she is eager to be old enough to do, like crossing the street without holding our hands or getting her ears pierced. Every time she sees me cutting up her food she says, “One day I’m going to do that myself!” It is sure to be a joyous day in our household when she finally gets to cut her own steak!
__________________
(To my grandfather, interrupting a conversation we were having about raising chickens. She walks straight up to him, puts her hands on his knee and says very loudly and confidently)
Everly: My favorite thing is to be nay-ted (naked) with the chickens!
My grandfather, who wears a hearing aid, looked over at me, unsure if he heard her right. I laughed and had to explain that last summer when we went to Vermont, Everly spent an afternoon playing in the garden among the chickens and for some reason, that experience -out of all we did that week, has stood out as a favorite memory. Whenever anyone brings up chickens, she has to talk about her naked afternoon.
Having been witness to the reactions she gets when she says these funny comments out of context makes me wonder just how much she is telling her preschool teachers that we are not there to explain! With all this knife infatuation and nudist chicken loving, it’s possible they think we are total wackos.
Has your child ever said anything out of context that left you fumbling to explain? Oh the mouths of babes!
Love,
M
My grandmother Doris, was built of sweetness. I can think of no other way to describe her. My earliest memories are of sitting around the table in her small house, eating her homemade biscuits with globs of butter and strawberry jam while she stood with her back to me, a floral apron tied neatly around her waist, washing dishes.
I’ve been enamored with her hands since I was a small girl. I’d study them, turning them over and over again. I was mesmerized by the purple blue veins that ran like splintering map lines underneath her paper skin.
Her life has not been an easy one, but the world has never broken her of that innate sweetness. Even in her late years, as her mind has drifted off to places where it can not be pulled back, she has looked at us with the most loving eyes. Even when she struggles to remember my name or sometimes even my face, she lays her sweetness down in its place and we enjoy our time together for what it is. She does not recognize my children, but always smiles with such pride when I remind her again that they are hers.
In the past few years, our time together has mostly been spent holding on to those soft, weathered hands. They shake now with tremors beyond her control. She used to write the most beautiful letters before the tremors made her words illegible. I remember opening her cards and feeling so moved by how much effort she had obviously made just to form each letter, the paper deeply indented with the pressure she used to keep the pen on its course.
Brent and I traveled to the mountains of North Carolina yesterday to be with my grandmother and my extended family. This weekend she took a hard fall and was hospitalized with a brain injury. Too fragile for surgery, not even the doctors can tell us what the outcome will be.
In moments of lucidity, she would open her eyes and attempt to tell us things. At one point she said to me, I wish I could teach you… before her eyes closed again. Still later, as I held her tremoring hand in mine she whispered with eyes closed, Let it be.
A lifetime of wisdom summed up in three words.
Let it be.
It is hard to watch what old age takes away but I am comforted by what it can never steal. The greatness of my grandmother’s love travels the length of her blue veins straight into me. Into my family. Into the universe.
I kept lingering at her bedside last evening, knowing that we had to drive back to Raleigh soon. I was afraid to say goodbye. Even now, as I have already done so, I ache for more chances. I know the great joy that awaits her when and if the Lord calls her home, but the selfish part of me wishes for more time to keep her soft hands warm in mine.
I left yesterday heavy, but her wisdom was a warm blanket around my shoulders. Hours away from her now, I have been repeating her words to myself and lingering in the afterglow of my day at her bedside.
Let it be. and so I will.
Love,
M
I got a comment from a reader late last week that I’ve been rolling around in my head all weekend. It’s long, but instead of paraphrasing, I wanted to put a portion of her words here:
“I really used to like this blog. What happened? Don’t become a caricature of yourself. It’s ok to grow up. The rest of us are. I want more of your serious posts. Where is the woman in all this? And just write. WRITE. Get it out without over thinking the words. I know you want to be a writer but you’re coming from real life experience, not poet fantasy land. The posts where you were angry dealing with your son’s medical issues, those were beautiful. And you didn’t go on about the sensuality. It had a real source. It had real heart. I miss the writing from that place. Anyway, again, I know I have no place to criticize and that this will be taken poorly by your other fans. I just miss the old blog that I loved checking everyday for new posts. Take care.”
My first reaction: Ouch.
My second reaction: You are right.
The thing I appreciate the most about my readers is that you guys are not afraid to be honest with me. It stings sometimes, but I am grateful for the feedback. There are a lot of good things that come along with writing a reasonably popular blog. But I think it’s an easy trap to only want to hear the good and brush off or delete the criticism. I’m not really interested in living in a bubble where I only surround myself with people who never get real with me. Even my closest friends, the ones who love me unconditionally and support me always aren’t afraid to grab me by the shoulders sometimes and call me out when I need it. They keep me accountable.
The encouragement I have received from readers of Dear Baby has significantly impacted my life. I have found courage, comfort and advice in your words. Your love has been a great pillar for me through a time of significant change and growth. I do not write that lightly, I sincerely mean it when I say you have made my life better. But I also welcome those of you who don’t always have glowing words for me. I like the dialogue. I fully support your right to not agree with me or even like me for that matter. The love and the push back. The praise and the criticism. It is a very healthy yin and yang that help keep my viewpoints balanced.
I am struggling with my blog right now, as the number of posts I’ve put up lately reflect that. I have written daily and weekly at this web address for almost four years now. The highs and the lows and every thing in between. But the reality is that I am not always being able to turn it on - to go to that inspired place. I am fighting with it every day. The words are there but I am torturing them. I have dozens of half written posts. They sit neglected in my draft folder, most likely never to see the light of day. I go back and reread them, hoping to salvage something and I find I dislike them even more as time goes by. I guess even discarded thoughts can decompose. I could blame it on being busy, but the fact of the matter is that I have always been busy. Being busy has never stopped me before.
When it comes down to it, I think my life has become as balanced as I can remember. There is no new city to explore. No pregnancy. No big move. No sick child. No big vacation. No major life event. I am in a state of every day normalcy. Things are quiet and happy. This is a place that I’ve eagerly sought and it is doing me a lot of good.
I feel peace but peace doesn’t necessarily inspire me to write and my blog is a reflection of that right now. There is only a finite number of ways to say the same thing over and over again. My internal springhead is a trickle so I am filling up these pages with small anecdotes and sponsored posts and a lot of photos. I’ve known it for sometime and the honesty in the reader’s comment above makes me realize that you see it too.
So what do I do? Do I go quiet until the words find me? Do I put up half hearted posts so that I am at least saying something?
There are four years of my heart tied up in this blog but I am going to just stand here a little naked and admit that perhaps I am not as interesting as I once was. There is a strong likelihood that you will outgrow me at some point as our lives continue on. Perhaps it has already happened. The simple truth is that I am no longer a carefree twenty something. We have laid roots in a little town. Our children are precious, but they aren’t babies anymore. We are healthy and happy and in all that goodness sometimes there is nothing new to say.
Authenticity is incredibly important to me and I want to be transparent with any of you who have loved me and cared about our family in any form over the past four years. This is most definitely not a goodbye to blogging post. And I am not looking for encouragement today, because the beautiful truth is that nothing is broken.
But I have come to realize that I am in a period of life where blogging doesn’t feel as fluid as it once did. I am still figuring out where things go next, but I want to thank you for the time you have already given me. Thank you for allowing me to evoke some emotion or response in you. Thank you for coming along on this crazy, often chaotic, always beautiful, sometimes incredibly ordinary ride with me.
Love,
M
It has been years since this video originally graced my blog. It is dark and grainy and poorly shot, but it is something I cherish deeply. Brent and I laid in bed Sunday night watching old videos together. This one had us both quiet as it transported us right back to that tiny closet changing room in our basement apartment in San Francisco.
Getting a laugh out of our new baby was a bigger milestone than I even knew at the time. It was the first of many instances over the course of parenthood where our children have assured us that we are doing ok. We spent so much time in those early weeks and months just trying to figure her out -feeling so unprepared and bumbling - and then she went and laughed and everything felt ok. The joy of that realization was tangible.
We have questioned ourselves and our abilities so many times since then. But that first laugh turned into little arms that would reach out for us and then first words of “mama” and “dada”, tight hugs around the neck and eventually “I love you”. Since that afternoon in the dark light of her nursery, we’ve experienced hundreds of fits of laughter.
I watch this video with tears. Reliving that first taste of reciprocity between parents and child. She and Arlo have propped us up again and again in the three years since.
And it never gets old. It never stops feeling like the top of Everest. Over and over again, those tiny assurances remind us that we are still doing ok.
Love,
M
This Work Clothes/Play Clothes is a little different than my usual. This time, my friends at Tieks by Gavrieli challenged me to wear their amazing leather flats every day for an entire week (best challenge I’ve ever been given, that’s for sure). I’m definitely a high heels girl, but these soft little shoes have been turning me into a major fan of flats. I’ve talked about my love of Tieks before, but since I’ve started wearing them constantly, the thing that amuses me most is how many other women are as obsessed with them as I am. I have had women stop me in airports, around town and in the office to say, “Oh my gosh. Are those Tieks? Aren’t they amazing?” I have many conversations about them with other women who have spotted their trademark aqua blue soles and wanted to gush over how comfortable they are.
Here is what I wore to work and to play during my Week of Tieks:
Sunday: Play Clothes.
This was a gorgeous day in Raleigh. We went vintage shopping and ate lunch outside on the patio of one of my favorite places downtown. It was still a bit cool, so I kept my sleeves and skirt long, but this was one of the first real “warmer” days that preluded spring.
Top: Target
Skirt: StitchFix
Bracelet: Vintage
Shoes: Cardinal Red Tieks
Monday: Work Clothes.
A quick Monday morning outfit. I was in the mood for jeans and a tshirt but I tried to dress it up a bit for the office by adding the jacket, scarf and the sparkle from my shoes. Super comfortable, but pulled together enough for a day full of planning meetings.
Jacket: Forever21
Tshirt: American Apparel
Scarf: Zulily
Jeans: Kensie
Shoes: Starstruck Tieks
Tuesday: Work Clothes
I got this blouse at Forever21 last month and I love the length and the cut of it. It was pretty on its own, but I always love color, so I paired it with a sunny scarf and red lips.
Top: Forever21
Jeans: Kensie polka dot
Shoes: Starstruck Tieks
Wednesday: Work/Play Clothes
I worked from home on this day, so while I was technically working, this outfit played double duty as a play outfit since we had evening plans with friends. This is the second fashion outfit in a month where I’ve looked back at a photo and thought…whoa that dress is a lot shorter than I remember. I think the cold hard truth that I’ve finally aged out of most of my mini dresses has hit. Oh well, it was fun while it lasted.
Cardigan: c/o Francesca’s Collections
Dress: Vintage
Tights: Target
Shoes: Starstruck Tieks
Thursday: Work Clothes
hahahah. Oh, this pose! I’m rolling my eyes at myself as I type this. This is standard work attire for me - A pretty blouse, a blazer and a pair of skinny jeans. Most of the time I would pair this with a pair of heels, but I was more than happy to swap them out for my trusty Tieks.
Blazer: Stitch Fix
Blouse: Stella and Dot
Belt: Forever21
Jeans: Levi Strauss
Shoes: Starstruck Tieks
Friday: Work Clothes
I loved this outfit. I felt feminine and put together and the warmer temps meant bare legs! I talk about this belt every so often, but my Godmother gave me this buckle that once belonged to her grandmother. I absolutely cherish it and love how it instantly adds character to whatever I am wearing.
Top: StitchFix
Skirt: Asos.com
Belt: Vintage
Shoes: Starstruck Tieks
Saturday: Play Clothes
Hooray hooray! Shorts weather! Most of this day was spent playing with the kids and running errands. I decided to forgo makeup and was lucky enough to get a second day out of my curls (I love when that happens). I wanted something casual cool and this outfit did the trick. I would wear this lightweight, terry blazer every day if I could.
Blazer: Tart
Tshirt: American Apparel
Shorts: Sanctuary
Belt: Forever21
Shoes: Cardinal Red Tieks
It was fun to give myself the challenge to wear the same shoes every day for a week. Even though I documented these outfits several weeks ago, I find myself wearing Tieks 3 or 4 times a week now. There is a reason these shoes made Oprah’s Favorite things list, and why every woman I know who owns a pair is gaga over them too. They’re fun to wear, go with everything, and are so incredibly comfortable. I’m a Tieks girl for life now.
Love,
M
The Tieks featured in this post were gifted to me by the company. All opinions expressed here are my own.
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