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My Village

I’ve been thinking about my village lately. Those people who hold me upright when I think I might just fall right over. Women, mostly. The carriers. The holders. The givers. There is an unspeakable kind of solace I find in my village of women and they have become as essential to my living as air. Some days it’s like they breathe for me, and I don’t take that kind of love lightly.

They know something is up the minute I answer the phone. They tell me things I don’t want to hear, not to be hurtful but to be real. They don’t let me dish crap upon myself. Most of all, they love my child like she is their own. Maybe this is an exaggerated statement because perhaps no one loves a baby like her own mama, but still, I see it in their eyes. I know they understand it – the most important and cherished job of my life – and it’s endearing to watch them share in it too.

Your kids are my kids. Is there a more beautiful thing to say to a friend? I honestly can’t think of anything.

 

My friends,

You might not know how much it means to me when you grab my baby for a goodbye kiss before you leave our house, but I notice.

How you pick up on every new little thing – she waved! she’s standing! she’s dancing to that song!  – and how you are genuinely as excited as we are.

I love how you scour the internet for cute baby clothes, how you send texts late at night asking me to go in and give Ella a kiss for you, how you call her your little one.

Don’t think I didn’t notice when I came over to your house that Ella’s photo is taped to your fridge, next to wedding invitations and birthday parties and other things worth celebrating.

When you come over to hang out, you probably don’t know that I talk about you when you leave. I tell Joel how lucky I am, I tell him how he ‘d have trouble topping the sisterhood, I talk about all the things I admire about you. All the things I notice.

I do notice.

And those times when I’m overwhelmed with the challenges of life and family and marriage and finding where the freaking car keys are, I do not take for granted the cooked meals, the phone calls, the “I’m here for you”s.

I notice it all and I drink it dry. You make me happy. You make me feel as though we are in it together;  this one wild, crazy, messy, and beautiful life.

 

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Friday Phone Dump: The small things keepin’ me happy this week.

instagram dump 2 best

 

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sunday craft sessions :: twin toes $2.50 vinnies score on a thrift shop morning rummage :: 6am playtime in the tent :: painted toes keeping ever so still :: love :: valentines day breakfast :: making love potion for v day ::  monday breakfast out…just because  :: first ever red tent spa day

“When it’s over, I want to say: all my life
I was a bride married to amazement.
I was the bridegroom, taking the world into my arms.

When it is over, I don’t want to wonder
if I have made of my life something particular, and real.
I don’t want to find myself sighing and frightened,
or full of argument.

I don’t want to end up simply having visited this world.”

― Mary Oliver

Wishing you a fab weekend. See you back here soon.

5 Responses to “My Village”

  1. Jenna

    Having a community of women is SO important. I wish that i lived in your “village” and was a part of such an encouraging, loving, and supporting group of girls!!!

    Reply

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