Everything Floats

The day has been hot and as I fall into the cool water, much, besides my sweat and the ache in my muscles, is shed.

I float. Every bit of me floats, and I smile as I look down. It is dark, the murmur of NPR in the background, and no one can see. In this moment, as I am entwined in my cocoon during my transformation, I love my body. I am allowed to love it, and not because I am alone, or that it is so dark, or because I must, but because I want to. It's an easy love, and I dive back into the water, letting it glide over my skin.

I decide that I am done with the self-loathing. I had told myself to stop this a long time ago, have talked about it, I think even written about it, but this time I know that it's really gone.

It's nice to hear, but I don't need those compliments any more. I don't want approval from anyone. I will just happily wear my skin, my muscles and bones, my fat, and I will love it. I will watch it change, too. I will watch it like one watches a sunrise, in aw of each phase and its beauty, until the sun is fully risen and we can't imagine it any other way.

Yes, everything floats when I'm in the water, but that only makes it easier to see, better to admire.

IT CAME! A Erin Condren Pictorial Unboxing

I love the packaging for these planners. Absolutely lovely. (Also, book photo bomb.)

My little pile of freebies: a cute little sticker I gave to E., a postcard, and....

Woohoo! Free cover for my planner! (Already ordered and on it's way.)

And now on to the really good stuff!

Two pen holders for my two planners and a packet of "Keep It Together" bands that coordinate with the cover of my new planner.

The new cover to my old planner. Perfect for summer!

As previously mentioned, I'm a quote junkie. I like to have something meaningful on the cover of my planner, because it's something I see several times a day. I like these little reminders. If you can't see this clearly, it says, "You can never cross the ocean unless you have the courage to lose sight of the shore."

And the new planner!! It's an 18 month-er and I'm so pumped to start using it tomorrow! My previous planner is going to be strictly for school planning. (Also, baby hand photo bomb!)

Poetry Friday (Which Was Poetry Sunday and Will Probably Become Poetry Saturday)

 'Ahidziskeii

It's not a grand thing after all,
just that warm comfort in murmuring "good night"
before I sink into that dark quiet
that exists when we're together.

Otherwise, when I'm traveling,
same same 'good night' on the phone,
and I listen intently (for wheat I'm not sure",
leave a light on for safety, drift off to sleep, half-listening;
a little noise and I'm sitting up in bed, surveying the room,
sometimes even the entire block from the hotel window. 
I rush to the phone and double check,
should  I dial o or 8-911?
I check the locks again, then lie back down 
afraid to sleep, yet wanting to sleep, knowing 
that fatigue will be obvious in the morning.
I've had so much practice. 

When we're together, checking locks doesn't occur to me,
local crime seems so far away (never mind
that we are in the heart of the city),
I insist upon complete darkness, and what I ams sure of 
is that if I turn over, your warm chest or arms will surround me.
That should I awaken, confused as to where I am (once again),
you will reach for me knowing exactly how to reassure me. 

And when we drink coffee together
in this bright California morning, 
mountains towering around us, I move closer to knowing
what the Creator means by "nizhonio 'ahidziskeii."
They are sitting beside each other in a house of beauty. 

Lucy Tapahonso

Five years ago today I married the man I love the most, who makes me smile the broadest, laugh the hardest, and can piss me off more than anyone possibly could (and still accepts my apologies and forgiveness). When I read the poem up above, I see my husband and I, together in our home, our own "house of beauty." It is his "warm chest and arms" that make me feel safe and protect our family. And when he isn't home, there is a hole in our world and things just don't seem quite right. 

Our marriage is quietly special and subtly sweet. There aren't any ostentatious gifts of affection or over the top gestures of love, just the little things bind our family together. Things like never going to bed without a kiss goodnight, or the phone calls to one another when we reach our destinations, or still holding hands as we walk into a store.

I want five years, twenty, fifty years and more with him, learning more about one another, raising our babies, and having our best adventures.