Till we are called to Rise

I frequently find myself drifting back to memories from this time a year ago, when I was so blissfully unaware what was just a week ahead of me.

It's like she's still out there, the year ago me. Somewhere on the time continuum she is tidying up the wrapping paper from her daughters first christmas and discussing baby names with her husband for their unborn child. She's happy and in love. And I want to hold her hand as she begins to face the pain ahead of her, the months of being strung along, the awkwardness of finding herself pregnant and alone. But I can't. Instead I whisper to the wind:

We never know how high we are

till we are called to rise

and then if we are true to plan

our statures touch the skies

(emily dickenson)

Let's hope that 2010 will be safely filed away forever as the worst year of my life.

Only onwards and upwards for 2011 please! No more looking back, there are new frontiers ahead of me: Home owning, raising two children, figuring out what kind of a career I want (now that I'm all grown up), and who knows, maybe I may enter into the scary world of dating this year...

Thank you all so much for your support and listening ears this year, It's meant a lot.

xo

A Mummy For Two Years

Molly turned two last week. Unfortunately her birthday was spent unpacking boxes and hanging curtain poles, but it all needed done and she won't remember. I can hardly believe it's only been two years, It seems longer. So much has happened, so much has changed. I feel different, Motherhood changed me. It was like I found myself for the first time. I found something I could do, something I was born to do. Does that mean I'm great at it? No No No, but I do know how to do it and no one else can be Molly's mummy but me. It's my job. My vocation.

So much has happened in the last two years. I became a mum, I got pregnant again, I lost my husband, I moved house, moved country, returned to live near my family for the first time in 7 years, I found there is pride and solidarity in single parenthood, I met and named my son, gave birth to him pain relief free ( I like to drop that one in whenever I can ;o). And after all that, we've set up home again.

That's a lot for just two little years. When I look back at photos of myself from two years ago, I barely recognise myself. Who was that girl? I'm starting to agree that "A person is a collection of selves. We change over time, we never stay the same on our journey to the grave."

And then there is the Mollster. I can't believe how much she has changed in the last year. She took her first few unassisted steps a few weeks after her first birthday. Now she runs and climbs everywhere. These days she is a pro-jumper she just seems to bounce everywhere. A year ago she hadn't uttered her first word, now I can have a full fledged conversation with her. And now she is a big sister. And the best big sister I can imagine. She adores her little brother. ADORES him. She can't stop kissing and hugging him. His name is the first thing she says in the morning 'Wheres Finch? Mummy!'

She likes to join in on tummy time with her baby bro

She is a wonder. Making friends and winning fans wherever she goes. She won't let anybody push her about. Strong willed and full of dances. I love her. I like here.

I stumbled upon this image a few months ago and have been saving it for the right occasion. It is beautiful but it makes me teary.

Installation by Miranda July

Happy Birthday My Girl.