attachment parenting



before holden, life was rushed.  my days passed like the blur out the window of a speeding train, my face pressed against the sill attempting to discern whole objects out of the hazy greens and blues.

life revolved around getting to where i was going.  getting to work, getting to the next meeting, getting home to my husband, getting to dinner, getting to bed, a ceaseless list of deadlines.

of course, i enjoyed my life, but i failed to notice all of life around me and truly enjoy every minute.

but holden changed this.  he taught me to look at time with slow eyes.  we swim in every minute, every second of our waking hours, soaking up every last drop.

almost every time we make our way up the front walk after being away from the house, holden stops me, begging to be put down so that he can draw with chalk, dig in the dirt, or search for and clean spiderwebs off of everything in his sight (his latest obsession).

despite an impending nap, a quickly approaching dinnertime, or the multiple baskets of laundry that seem to be forever waiting for me,

i always stop and play.

we stay at the park slightly longer than initially planned, take the long way home on our morning walks, and leave the light on a little past bedtime.

the true urgency to self-imposed deadlines has been realized.  there is no race.  there is no finish line.

and through this slowing of time, i've discovered things about life...

that we live directly under a flight path meaning that airplanes fly overhead nearly every ten minutes, that the swaying trees look like a rippling sea when the wind blows and it's slightly mesmerizing to watch, that you can always find a bug or insect no matter where you are, that the moon is out during the day more often than you think, and that those extra ten minutes in bed reading in the morning are worth more than you think.

so these days, when my body sinks into the bed at night, my mind isn't racing with whats, whens, and whys

because each and every day is enough.

oh, cleaning and scrubbing, but children grow up, as i've learned to my sorrow.  so quiet down cobwebs.  dust go to sleep.  i'm rocking my baby.  babies don't keep. - ruth hulbert hamilton



mama wore: aqua dress (worn as a top), forever21 sheer heart maxi skirt, brandy melville usa necklace and bracelet, and report ankle boots.

little man wore: peek youth nation t-shirt, h&m shorts, native howard slip-ons

suddenly, it feels as though everyone around me is pregnant and i feel an enormous sense of nostalgia, longing, and dare i say, even a stab of jealousy.  ever since being pregnant with holden, i've always gotten a slight heartache when i see pregnant people, coveting to be in their shoes. but then i'll look at holden and realize with a smile i have a baby and go on with my day.  but then last week, several mamas in holden's playgroup announced they were pregnant, mamas with children the same age as holden, and i found myself frantically thinking is it that time already?  is this about the time that you have the next child?, my mind immediately racing with worry about timelines and age difference.  and as i congratulated them and excitedly asked about ideas for names, i had to stop myself from impulsively shouting waaaait, i want to be pregnant too!  i think there is just something about pregnant women that makes other (non-pregnant) women a little crazy.

i immediately texted dustin (presuming somewhere in the back of my mind that he would say something along the lines of if everyone is getting pregnant now i guess we should start trying now too): and so-and-so and so-and-so are pregnant!

dustin's reponse: cool...

me: can you believe it?!?

dustin:  ya. that's cool.

and while two seconds before the text i thought it was the most insane thing ever that multiple people in my playgroup got pregnant around the same time which must mean that it's time (to have another baby), there is nothing like a man's logic to make you realize that you are being slightly crazy.  because despite a few pregnancy announcements causing a mild case of baby fever, our little family of three is happy and content at the moment and in actuality, i don't truly feel ready for another addition to our family.  i selfishly want to give every ounce of my attention to holden and i'm not quite ready to give any of that up.

(...but i'll let you know how i feel after next playgroup).


(photos from over the weekend:  1. grace cathedral a few blocks down from our old apartment in nob hill // 2. holden's favorite shoes that aren't fashionable in the slightest, but he loves them so i abide // 3. long hair, don't care // 4. feeling the wind // 5. just happy to run around // 6. a nostalgic park for us  // 7. playing in the sand // 8. cuddles on the way out of the park )

i often find myself wishing i could blow off all of the chores, errands, and other irrelevant noise of daily life to completely and utterly lose myself in holden's company.  and in those undisturbed moments i'm chasing after a gleefully giggling little boy tottering excitedly down an open path, pushing dump trucks filled to the brim with sand as they run demolition derby over towering castles, scaling wooden fortresses and burrowing through tunnels, sifting through mounds of wood chips for buried treasure, squeezing a tiny hand while gliding down slippery slopes, steering a stationary train and calling ourselves conductors, stopping to smell each and every flower we pass and gathering bouquets of dandelions and clovers, all the while not thinking about anything other than holden and the adventure we are on.  and it's not until the sun begins to fall towards the horizon casting an orange glow across the sky that i realize we've spent the entire afternoon doing nothing at all, yet everything that's important.  this was our day today.