I deleted over 7,000 photos and videos on my phone. I kept the ones that make me happy, grateful, or just plain laugh. This photo is from 2013. It was one of the starts to my #holymotherhood series (like holy sh*t, not the other kind of holy even though there’s a lot of that kind of holy on the hashtag now). It’s all holy, I suppose. This photo makes me happy because motherhood is like this sometimes: white knuckling my morning coffee while this one swoops in like a leaping tornado. It’s also very sweet too. Like the kind of sweetness that says, “let’s climb back in bed and snuggle awhile.” I feel grateful to not be a mom of a toddler. For me, those were some of the hardest years to parent. Now, B can make his own breakfast and pack his own lunch. At age 8, he’s in this fun, curious stage of ease. Often schooling me on math and science and stars and planets. He’s still just as snuggly, only 60 pounds or so heavier. Like all those photos I’ve kept, I have held on to many things that no longer exist. Stories. Drama. Memories. And trauma. I know many of my hang-ups and hard truths. And I’ll not be surprised when more bubbles to surface. There’s always work to either stay on tread and let on or ride new surf and let go. Even if that means clearing out some composition and characters in frame. #holywomanhood #writeclubnow #writewhatsreal #writeyourheartout #thisismyyoga #yogamama #letgoletin #parentsbelike #holyandwholly https://www.instagram.com/p/B3VcE89hsa-/?igshid=1c2gk0df82f3n
