I dropped five pounds of frozen chicken on my foot this morning. I wish I was kidding. The day definitely started rocky, to say the least. Getting my youngest out of bed and ready to go can be a real nightmare some days. She has a way of turning the smallest things into a crisis … Continue reading On getting through the pain…
On forgetting…
Whoops! I was supposed to start writing yesterday and completely forgot. It was Sunday. I blame the weekend. And the fact that I had what felt like eleventy-billion kids in my house all damn day. I forgot to do so much. Forgot to take meat out of the freezer for dinner (so we ended up … Continue reading On forgetting…
On getting back into it….
A million years ago (or what feels like a million years), there was this thing called NaNoWriMo. And a buuuuunch of my writer friends particiated. For those that don't know, it's National Novel Writers Month, in which the challenge is to write every single day for an entire month in hopes of actually finishing that … Continue reading On getting back into it….
On knowing what matters…
I know the school year rhythm is finally starting to soften around me. The mornings don’t feel as chaotic, the afternoons feel more predictable. There’s some comfort in that. There are still crazy morning and busy afternoons, arguments with my kids, frustrations to manage, and relationships to help them navigate. But feeling a little more … Continue reading On knowing what matters…
On Not Counting Anything….
This is what I know after existing in France for a week. I know I felt light there — in my bones, in my breath, in the way I moved through the world. Life felt easy.Yes, I was there on vacation. I didn’t have to plan meals or manage my family’s routines. That’s an obvious reason why … Continue reading On Not Counting Anything….
On when the magic fails…
I know I showed up. Loudly. Boldly. I spoke my dreams into rooms and rituals. I spent money, took trainings, achieved certifications. I tried every angle.I know I wanted it so badly to work—the hustle, the magic, the manifesting.I know I did the vision boards and the moon circles and the candles. I did the … Continue reading On when the magic fails…
On losing time…
I know I feel like I’m running out of time.I know 45 feels like an edge—like I should have more to show for my life, my education, my experience.I know I hear the clock ticking when I look at my bank account, my empty calendar, my house that’s never as clean as I think it should be. … Continue reading On losing time…
On closing doors…
This is what I know. I know I don’t really want to do this anymore.Not like this. Not here. Not in this shape that asks me to convince people that birth can be better or that I'm damn good at what I do, even if I don't fit the mold so much of Texas asks … Continue reading On closing doors…
On leaving a mark…
I know I want to be remembered.I want a legacy, a community, a mark that says, I was here and I mattered.I know I envy the people who build big circles around them—rooms full of students, loyal clients, familiar faces who show up again and again.I know I want that too. Or at least, I think … Continue reading On leaving a mark…
On knowing what to keep…and what to leave.
Being a doula asks a lot of me. A LOT. It asks for my nights, my weekends, my plans, my projects.It asks me to put my family second sometimes. It asks me to hold the weight of other people’s experiences, often at the cost of my own spontaneity, rest, and freedom. Sometimes even my own … Continue reading On knowing what to keep…and what to leave.
Use. The. Clutch. 