Motherhood magnifies imperfections.

It names us imperfect at the time we are trying to be our most perfect selves.

It makes a mockery of the image we so carefully cultivated during pregnancy.

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Little Bird Loved

Little Bird turns four tomorrow.

My sweet boy, whose arrival set me on this journey into the dark and out again. The child who wanted me and went without. Who clings to me, still. Shares my bed and stays near.

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Of Character (twisted bones)

Somebody asked me if my four children share a father.

I answered yes and the judgement left their eyes but I was left feeling uneasy. Had I said no, I would have been instantly dismissed as a person of low character.

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Smaller Memories


We have been spending as much time as possible outside, soaking up this wonderful winter weather. The school books have been cast aside and nature study, baking and handcrafts fill our schedule.

The evening’s are frosty, though, and then it is on with the fire and close out the world! Continue reading “Smaller Memories”

A Trickle

Math has always been a difficult subject in our homeschool. Even as a baby, if it had the whiff of learning, Cose was against it.And then I introduced math as an actual pen-to-paper subject where every worksheet mocked him and the numbers danced and twirled.

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