dirty feet. wide open mind.

twenty five.

This is just a list of simple things. Small things. That I always want to do. But don't do.
But. I. Want. To. Do.
This 25th year of my life.
So I'm gonna try. 

Sorry the type is sorta wonky... actually, I'm not 'cause I kinda like it. This is the first time I've used the typewriter I thrifted a couple weeks ago and I had to try and remember how to use one! 

First paper related thing I've created in a long time. and it was fun. 

I'm kind of really delighted about being 25. and I don't really know why...  
and a bit nervous. 24 started with Neil getting laid off work and ended with us grieving the miscarriage. Just like I was when 2010 rolled around... I feel a bit shy about it all right now.    

But today... today is just yoga and sunshine and playing with paper and Neil's softball game and birthday french fries.   
Good stuff.

come back to me.

I told you Saturday, I would be back with more.
I had a little too much fun with Kara's dare I guess. I took more than one photo I actually liked.
It feels like I cheated a bit though, the window light washed out my skin quite a bit so you can't see the smaller spots, though I think the large one on my chin makes up for it... maybe. My hair is dirty as I was just about to jump in the shower before deciding to just "do this", but oh well.

I've spent a good part of this summer really trying to embrace the fact that this is my body. This is my face. This is my hair. This is what I look like. It is beautiful. It is unique. And it is me.

(I'm in a very antique mirror on a very antique dresser that belonged to my great, great grandmother. And yes, the walls are maroon with a black border and black accent wall. This room used to belong to my sister in law, and she liked it dark! we're not quite ready to paint the house yet.. so thank goodness for the giant window behind me.)

And this isn't about to become some diatribe on how beauty products are evil. It's more about me saying - what can I do for myself to stay true to myself? What should I put on my skin, on my body, around my curves and into everyone else's eyes that actually helps to show my truth and not hide it.  
Being pregnant really put this in motion for me. (and going through the miscarriage too... really puts priorities at the front of my mind.) I just started falling so in love with my body and what it was doing. I want to continue to foster that. This body, it truly is my temple.

I've been fighting and hiding and complaining and mistreating my hair, my skin, my body... since I was a teen. Because I worried about what everyone else thought or how I should look or what my boyfriend would think or how cool it was or what this magazine said and what the heck for? Nothing.


So I've stopped spending two hours every morning, sweating to death in a bathroom trying to straighten out my wavy, thick hair. I've stopped battling my eyelash curler and I quit worrying about the fact that my lips don't have a lot of natural color. 
I keep my eyebrows plucked, concealer on my spots and dark circles. Sometimes I'll put a bit of nude eyeshadow on if I'm looking especially tired. 


I still wax the insides of my thighs because I grow more body hair than my own husband (*sigh*) but I've stopped trying to make eyeliner look right on my eyes because it just doesn't.
but if it did, or if I felt more comfortable with how it looked or it looked like me, then I would wear it. but I don't. and it doesn't. oh well. let it go.    
I want to spend time enjoying my beauty. Not fighting it. Not wasted hours trying to make something work that just doesn't. But lovely moments that are authentic and helpful and true. Trying on clothes that fit, that aren't a size too small just because I wish I had a smaller chest. No more hours in Sephora trying desperately to find an eyeliner or a lipstick or maybe a lip liner this time that maybe I'll actually like. How frustrating. No more deciding not to wear my long skirts out with family/friends because I look like a giant hippie and no one else does. Because someone else might think it's weird.   

You get my drift. I just want to be me. I don't want to pretend I'm all natural or anything here. Far from it. But I have to start figuring out what works for me, what actually works for me, and look like myself. 

I'm going to be 25 years old tomorrow. It's just time to stop being so insecure and covered up and over embellished or much too plain. And again, just look like myself.

I'm typing from a place of strength right now... there will probably be many other days of weakness, of feeling not good enough or not right.
But there is no right. There is just exactly who I am.
So I need to remember that. 

no makeup.

because she dared us to:



More tomorrow... right now I've got a house to clean and a shower to take because we're having a little bonfire/smore party tonight!

because burn centers are no fun.

So yeah, it was only almost 3 weeks ago, but how was your 4th of July?
Neil's family throws a huge party every year, and this year we did it on the 3rd, that being a Saturday and all.
Much fun was had, many fireworks were lit and I took too many photos as per usual for family events.

(my sis in law, miss Kelly.)

I love this holiday, but as I get a bit older, I grow more and more weary of all the fireworks. I love seeing the shows and yeah, so pretty, fun, all that. I'm not a big fan of random fireworks being lit off here, there, everywhere. I keep hearing about more and more people getting hurt... idunno. It's just becoming less something I want to be around. My uncle was very, very badly burned this year by a firework that was lit and then just tipped over and went off into a group of people, hitting him and catching on fire. He's actually still in a lot of pain right now, and has weekly trips to a burn center. 



I know, I know, party pooper. Like I said, I love seeing the shows, the big fireworks, oohhh and ahhhing... but yeah. I don't really get the bottle rockets and smoke bombs (blech) and all that. 

And then there is my husband:

Yes. He's lighting that teeny little firework with a torch. 
Oh my.

run away.

My blog post ideas are piling up.
This is due to two reasons.... 
 
1. my computer is very. very. very. slow. and buggy. I swear I hear it groan when I even start to open photoshop, and that is so painful to use now, which deters me from doing anything with photos which I need for blog posts! plans are in the works to purchase something else next month (yay back to school deals!) so I'm trying to baby it through until then. I'm terrified that in the home stretch it is going to crash on me or something! 

2. every time I get the momentum up to post and feel like I'm going to start posting regularly again, I lose it by the next day. of course, everything is up and down right now emotionally so that's ok but I would really like to feel "caught up" with blogging if you know what I mean.

I wanted to blog about the 4th of July, my miscarriage story, Neil's birthday (eek!), the memorial we've planned for the twins and oh yeah, I have actually been making some pretty things the past couple of days!
So here is something I wanted to share from last week and lets hope this is the start to getting caught up... 

Some of Neil's family (who live by us) invited Neil and I out to play softball, or rather, hit softballs and catch softballs. Neil plays with some of them on their church team. So we jumped in the car and headed out to join them.


I'm telling you.. and I don't know why... but this was the best drive I've had in a long time. We've cut down a lot on randomly just going out to here or there because we live about an extra 20 minutes away from anything now. Save gas. Save funds. I'm sure you know what I mean!
So it was nice to get in the car, and head somewhere for fun, without an errand or shopping on the brain.


yes. my purse has bells on it. because bells are amazing and I would attach them to everything if I could. (and that's Blue Orchid by The White Stripes on the 'pod there.)

I love good drives.

It's not even a very long one, pretty short really, but it was on my mind to just keep that car going and settle in anywhere we ended up a couple hours later... hopefully we can do that soon.
On our first "date", Neil and I drove around for an hour, in the rain, on a bunch of winding, back roads. There is nothing better to me than taking a trip and driving for hours, listening to good music, stopping for gas and to stretch, checking out tourist traps. All of it. 

(Neil, inbetween playing ball... I despise that red cap. Companies often come by Neil's work, with free goodies advertising their tools and various stuff. I gotta remember to pick him up a better cap for playing ball sometime.)
    
I need to plan a vacation... even if I never get to take it, planning it is half the fun for me... maybe in a few months we can take a little trip. There are so many places in Missouri to drive to... I really must start coming up some ideas to help with this itch to travel I have now...

grief is a wheel, not a ladder.

"Even if we try to pray, our prayers often crumble in our souls, our dreams dissolve in our hearts. Despair seeps in the doors, taps at the windows, and threatens to clog all our passages of hope. How can we speak softly to God when we see, yet again, the fruitless stain of our blood; when we feel the lifeless mass slipping from our womb; or when we hold a beautiful, perfect but still child in our arms? For some of us, no amount of explanation—medical or theological—can soothe."

 - Rabbi Nina Beth Cardin
 From Tears of Sorrow, Seeds of Hope:
 A Jewish Spiritual Companion For
 Infertility and Pregnancy Loss

I found that quote online a couple days ago, clicking through links on mothering.com. They have a really supportive pregnancy loss forum, and I like to lurk there sometimes, just for the comfort. 

This week has been really rough. I haven't slept well at all. Like I said on Tuesday, I don't seem to be able to fall asleep until after one in the morning, when I've made myself completely exhausted. If I try before then, all I think about is babies, my babies, and other related thoughts. The past three mornings I've woke up crying. And it's usually so late in the morning already, on top of the fact that the sleep I get isn't great. I just feel tired. And heavy. Just so heavy.

I remember, when I was... probably a preteenish age, of 11 or 12 or something, I was at my dad's house for the weekend. My cousin was in the hospital. My dad and TOM had called her, and my dad then tried to get me to take the phone and call her as well. I baulked. I didn't know my cousin that well and I just felt so.... weird about. What do I say? I felt all strange, and nervous and just did not want to do it.
But my dad persisted and I gave in. 
And the conversation was short and sweet and not the painful, awkward mess I'd thought it would be. 
And I'm really glad he made me do it. Show that I cared, that I was concerned.
I actually know that cousin much better now, and love her dearly.   

I'm still pretty awkward about these kinds of things... but I try my best to at least just say, "hey, I'm so sorry, and I'm here for you." 

I had no idea how much even that bit of simple kindness could mean to someone until now. 

I keep remembering this because, I have heard from so many people. In all kinds of ways. And I don't ever want anyone to bring up anything that they just don't want to talk about with me. I don't want anyone to fake caring or being comfortable. I even thought at first, it's going to be so hard when people want to talk to me about this. 
But it's not as bad as I thought. I actually feel so much relief and appreciate it. 
Talking about it helps. Not only that, it's like... I don't have to pretend that nothing is going on. 
To pretend like nothing is wrong... it's almost a little insulting if that makes sense. Like it's not important.
Like it doesn't matter.
But when someone genuinely wants to talk about it, or at least express remorse, then it's casual. It doesn't have to be some massive, emotionally draining conversation. And I can feel normal and be normal. Not like I've got a bullseye pinned to my forehead and everyone is trying to miss it. 

I've felt so sad to hear about other people having miscarriages before. But I had no idea.
The depth of it. 
And it's not just the sadness that I thought I was going to have a baby, and now I'm not. That's just a small part of it. I know I can still have other children, and I know I'm young and I know I have plenty of time and I know, I know all that. 
I also know that miscarriage is much more common than people realize, that some women have it much worse, can carry a baby full term, only to deliever still born, etc. I know all that. (and I can't even imagine that pain.)
From the moment I knew I was pregnant, I loved them. I didn't even know there were two until the day I started to miscarry, but I loved them. They were my children - I had two children. And they died. I never got to meet them, they barely had formed little bodies, but they were mine. And I loved them. And I wanted them with me in this world. And they died.
That is where a majority of the pain lies. For both Neil and I. We lost two children. However small, however old, however developed. We lost them. And we were devoted to them as soon as we knew they were there. 

I'm sorry if it all sounds like crazy talk, but I think for others who know, they know what I mean.
This is how we feel. I don't know how other women feel, and I don't know how other men feel. I just know how I feel. I know what Neil has told me. And I don't think there's a wrong or right with it. I can't possibly believe that everybody should feel the same way about this kind of thing or be made to feel like there's something wrong with their emotion or grief. It's just dang hard and we do the best we can.

I was going to post today about something lighthearted, but this took over instead so I guess I needed to get it out. I read somewhere that grief is a wheel, not a ladder. And I think that's so true. And I don't think this will be the last hard week I have. Or even close to it.

sleepy but awake.

Working on my blog design this morning. Seems to be taking me forever to really knock out of my head exactly what I'm wanting.... going to doing a few more tweaks today so I apologize for the constant changes. It's rather inky right now (yay!), and I'm hoping to add a bit more color and pattern to the overall idea today.
Very tired this week for some reason. I went to sleep at about 9:45 last night with Neil, woke up with him about 5:20, like every morning, but then fell back asleep and only woke up about 9:30ish. I hate doing that. I'm all about giving my body the rest it needs, especially since I'm not in school right now and have no "has to be done today" work to do. But still.... I feel like my morning is wasted when I wake up so late!

Anyways...
Wanted to share some fun things I've found over the past few days...

- Amy Lapi's FREE etsy workshop:

- Kim Smith's One Life photo class.

- Kara's lovely shop update.

- This crochet blanket pattern. I'm tempted to start on it this week. No really. I just might.

- This song.... which I have heard before but found again randomly through an itunes recommendation the other day. Now I can't stop playing it.
 

(Florence and the Machine - Dog Days Are Over)
 

Just in the mood to share, bring a little light and creativity to this place! I really *feel* like I might actually make something soon. It will be nice when the dam finally breaks because I need it. 
 
I'm still typing up my posts to talk about the miscarriage, the series of events, what have you. There are some things that I need to say, very gently, and some things that I want to make more of a statement of. It's all pretty much just a story to me, like other stories I have told, I need to tell it. It's been therapeutic and I hope to put them up next week.

I'm going to go eat my lunch... err.. breakfast? Scrambled eggs with onions, spinach, sausage and pesto sauce. I have an obsession with putting pesto sauce on everything right now. Try it, it's yummy.