wonder mother

{via pinterest}

my mother is a superhero. and i wish i was her.

my entire life, she has been the most put-together woman i have ever known. my earliest memories are of her seated at her desk sipping at a silver, hand-held caraffe coffee with her hair laid perfect and her make-up pristine.

and i have strived to match her footsteps. and i am failing.

because as i write this post, i am clad in men's Dr. Pepper pajama pants with my hair tossed back in the messiest of ponytails, taking the smallest bites of applesauce from a plastic container in an effort to keep my stomach settled.

and i am about to be a mother myself. and i want to be the most pristine of women with my future children collected and composed. but if they are anything like me, they will be ruffians and i will be flustered perpetually.

that is, if i keep attempting to be a woman i am not. a woman that she has never asked me to be, and would never dream of requiring of me. time and time again, she tells me

be you. not me. 


and that's what i have to do. because it is weary being someone who is not me, and walking in shoes far too big for my small feet. and this is my motherhood journey, as she had hers with two daughters who both turned out a bit alright, i think.

and so i will reach out and take her hand for now. and when i get scared and when my little one is tucked away, i may run to her arms and weep for comfort that only a mother can provide.

she is my mother. i am not.

and for this, we are both grateful. and for this, we overflow.

i realized today that i have allowed this pregnancy to push away the corners of my brain. 

and i have forgotten to announce the winners of my last giveaway, which i was supposed to do in January. my goodness.

the winner of the Shabby Apple timepiece necklace is Ashley

the winner of the pearl earrings is Blythe.

congratulations, girls! contact me with your addresses as soon as possible!

and don't forget that you still have two days to enter the current giveaway. 

Stitch

Take your needle, my child, and work at your pattern; it will come out a rose by and by.  Life is like that - one stitch at a time taken patiently and the pattern will come out all right like the embroidery.  ~Oliver Wendell Holmes

I am not a seamstress.

Not by any stretch of the imagination.

People often ask me why I don't have a shop on Etsy. While I do have an Etsy account, I tell them that I could never have a shop because my gifts are not something you can sell.

I cannot bottle my voice, sell my poetry as a garment, or send some moment in theater baked into a lump of divine chocolate goodness.

All of that to say, I cannot sew.

I was not one of those homeschooled girls who threw herself into the world of fiber, needles, and intricate stitching. It just never interested me all that much, despite how hard my grandmother tried to lure me into the magical land of her sewing room.

I wanted to like sewing...it fascinated me, but i never found myself called into this world like so many others.

But yesterday, all that changed.

I went to the store and made a few small purchases: five yards of red and white satin, needles, pins, two spools of thread, and a small spool of black ribbon.

I sat down on the floor, took a deep breath, and proceeded to spend the next eighteen hours in the world of the seamstress.

And finally, from the ashes of well-poked fingers and sore hands,

...from staying up until 2am to the welcome accompaniment of the fourth season of Buffy the Vampire Slayer...

...a beautiful two-sided superhero cape was born.

I could not be more proud of my pattern-less creation...for all of its lopsided and crooked stitching, random moments of gathered lumps, and maybe one or two blood drops from my own battle wounds.

And as I stared at this creation...once only a pile of fabric and miscellaneous materials, now something wonderful and beautiful...I heard the whisper of my King.

See. I am making all things new. 

See, I am making you new. 

You are My creation. 

You are beautiful. You are perfect. You are Mine.

And oh, how I love you. 

I am His creation. He poured labour into me. He poured all of Himself into me...yes, even His blood. 

And I am His. 

And He gazes on me with pride. 

I see crooked stitches.

He makes my way straight.

Stitch by stitch.

"See, I am doing a new thing! Now it springs up; do you not perceive it? I am making a way in the wilderness and streams in the wasteland." ~Isaiah 43:19