On dreams.

I could say once upon a time I had dreams. Dreams of being successful, having a “good job,” finding Mr. Perfect, getting married and having two little babies. Dreams of big nice house, with rolling green grass, gorgeous flower beds and a living room and kitchen to make a magazine jealous.

I never did though.

I never had future dreams. I never dreamed of graduation and college. I never dreamed of jobs and careers and how I would survive in life. I never dreamed of future partners or spouses. I most certainly never dreamed of babies.

I was, to put it simply, impractical.

I dreamed of making art, not necessarily being successful, actually I usually imagined myself poor and bouncing from friend to friend’s houses. I dreamed of dying young and tragically and then, finally, being recognized as the artist I was.

I dreamed of one day finding out that I was something else – a witch, a fairy, a mutant – something magical. I dreamed of having powers and being reclaimed to secret worlds.

I dreamed of aliens and space and the world ending and going to live in the stars.

Years and years later I still dream impractical dreams. I dream big and bold and fantastical dreams. I still dream of magic and adventure. I still dream that one day I will have powers beyond my imagination, wings, or that a man in a blue box will fly me away.

Every so often I tether a few balloons and bring myself down. Then I dream of owning a farm and making yarn. I’ll dream of writing and illustrating children’s books, or even writing just a book. I will dream of selling my art because I can and want to, not from a need. None of these are still the most realistic dreams.

Mostly though, I still just dream of magic and adventure.

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he dreams

and there he lay;
his head softly pillowed,
his mind off on adventures.
his dreams taking him off
to lands so far away.

he sleeps and he dreams.
he dreams and he flies.

he dreams
and he builds worlds
and futures
so bright.

he dreams.

he dreams sample - life as their mom

this post originally appeared on my old blog on February 21, 2014

she is blooming

she is blooming.
she is no flower, weak and easily broken,
but a tree growing to tower and sustain life.
a sapling she may still be,
but every year that her leaves bloom once more
is a year that she continues to soar.

one day she will provide so much.
life. protection. strength. refuge. home.
but today she is still blooming,
and has a while more to grow.
her limbs are still reaching,
her bark gets thicker by the day.
her rings are still forming,
marking all of her progress and her change.

she is blooming – no she is soaring!
her roots will be strong and they will go deep.
and the storms will not easily bend or break her.

she is a blooming tree - monsters + tutus

the red chair

this morning i sat you in your red chair.
you were wobbly, but that proud huge smile when you stayed up by yourself eased my worry of you falling.
i went about my day and i came every time that you cried out.
you played with your toes, i worked, we took so many moments of being together.
you on your red chair, i by your side.

this afternoon you climbed onto your red chair.
you are starting to fit it pretty well, you can get on and off on your own. “no me” you say when i try to help.
i went about my day and i came every time that you called for me.
you played with your cars, i worked, we took some moments of being together.
you on your red chair, i by your side.

this evening you sat down on your red chair.
your feet swinging, your toes scraping the ground. i no longer even offer to help you, but you still want me around.
i went about my day and i listened just in case you called.
you read your book, i worked, we took just a few moments of being together.
you on your red chair, i by your side.

tonight you did not sit down on your red chair.
you were too big you said, the chair too small. you would break it you said, i asked you to please sit just one more time.
this time i did not go about my day, i listened to every word you gave me.
i poked fun at your hobbies, you gave me small grins. i said that i love you, you said that you knew.
you on your red chair, i by your side.

the next morning your red chair was empty.
it is now tattered, worn and cracked. it now looks so incredibly small and fragile. it now looks lonely and sad.
i tried to go about my day, but your red chair kept calling me back.
you were not here, i was alone.
your empty red chair and i by its side.

inspired by this photo from Stephanie Pearl-McPhee

it’s time, my love.

it’s time, my love, to end your day and rest your head.
it’s time to change out of your played in clothes, wash off, and snuggle in close.
it’s time for a story, or two or three, and a song.
it’s time for last smiles, last hugs, last sweet little kisses.
it’s time for thank you’s, and I love you’s.
it’s time to rest your head on your pillow, and wrap in your blanket.
it’s time to hold your lovey close to you.
it’s time to close your eyes,
and it’s time to say goodnight.
it’s time, my love, to go to sleep and visit the land of dreams.

DSCN4969 copy

little boys (7/365)

little boys are so much more than muddy toes and scattered toys.
they are love and joy and silliness, and frogs and dogs and bugs.
they are happiness wrapped in gunk, they are dreams wrapped in gum.

little boys bring sunshine, but they also bring the rain.
a day with them is like a summer storm,
one minute a raging tempest one minute a calm day.

life without little boys is oh so very calm.
a lovely quiet stillness, a glassy waveless bay.
but for that calm you sacrifice oh so very much.

as for me I will take the storms and the messes and the bad, no good days.
I will take the craziness, because it is all balanced out by their neverending love.

lay your head on my shoulder (5/365)

lay your head on my shoulder,
the day’s been long, your eyes grow so weary.
we’ve done so much, explored so much,
grown a little more minute by minute.

lay your head on my shoulder,
they’re there for you, waiting to hold you near.
slow your breathing and listen closely,
my heart is singing out a lullaby just for your ears.

lay your head on my shoulder,
it is time to sleep, the moon is high.
the stars are out, the sun is sleeping,
and now it is time for you close your eyes.

lay your head on my shoulder,
i will still be here, right here, while you sleep.
loving you, holding you,
a safe harbor while you are off in the land of dreams.