the gift of hope

One year ago I closed 2014 with a heart relieved and encouraged- we made it, we're still making it. It seemed that my goals for 2015 would be simple: My first act in 2015 will, most likely, be nursing my sweet Alice. In wee, early hours we will nuzzle sleepily together and I will quietly welcome another year of absurdity and revelations. Perhaps that is my entire hope for this new beginning- that it be defined by a spirit welcome to revelations, the quiet and the profound, and that I cling dearly to the gift of those nearest.

I'm closing out 2015 with an enormous amount of relief that it was a quieter year, a simpler year, an even- dare I say it?- downright easier year. This has been year of waiting and being, not a wade-stumble-slog-it-through survival as 2014 so often felt. Thank God. 

2015 provided opportunity to grieve, reflect, and breathe. We celebrated small, significant victories. I found myself again, knit anew as a mother. It had taken some time to recognize my own reflection, but there it was waiting for me when I stopped rubbing my eyes. 

And, before I knew it, my daughter was a whopping year old, no longer nursing. Jake and I did our darnedest to cherish each other and this incredible human in our care. We made another one too. Oh, the absurdity! Another soul resides within me! In mere months, our family will find new wings again. 

2015, what a gift you were. 
2016, what hope you hold.

Happy New Year-
Kimberly

a quiet welcome

It is always difficult to be present here and now and this task is made ever more challenging on December 31. We're on the brink of a new year, a new number to scribe on checks and journal entries, an end and a beginning juxtaposed clearly between 11:59PM and 12:00AM.

I ended 2013 feeling anticipatorily absurd: We are committing to do our best and love our most honestly, accepting that we will fail often at this endeavor...Jake and I are opening to a third party the small sacred world of affection we occupy together...We have made a baby. We will share our lives with this little being and in turn be made richer once again. We are letting go of something good for something altogether better.

Those very things happened- the honest loving, the failing, the sharing and the being made richer. Life got bigger and smaller this year. It got frighteningly complicated and hard, while also establishing a clarity I have never known before. This year, 2014, ends in simplicity. I'm reminded of Little Red's lyrics from Into the Woods: "I know things now, many valuable things, that I hadn't known before."

Photo by Sarah Leaman

I know now the depth of our community and what active, love incarnate looks like. I know now the insecurity of misplaced identity. I know now the wealth and comfort which are most important- and, shocker, they are not monetary. I know now the immense and terrifying love of a mother for her child. I know now the admiration of watching those you love in turn love this extension of yourself, your baby. I know now that healing and forgiveness come in fits and starts. I know now that the buttery skin of my baby is my favorite thing in the whole world.

My first act in 2015 will, most likely, be nursing my sweet Alice. In wee, early hours we will nuzzle sleepily together and I will quietly welcome another year of absurdity and revelations. Perhaps that is my entire hope for this new beginning- that it be defined by a spirit welcome to revelations, the quiet and the profound, and that I cling dearly to the gift of those nearest.

Happy New Year-
Kimberly

the absurdity of it all

In the months before our wedding, Jake and I knew we wanted to go through with the whole ordeal, but we were also feeling something unforeseen: mourning. We were letting go of something good for something better. Jake mourned the loss of bachelor living. I mourned the loss of living alone and the independence of my own little space. But we both knew we were letting go for something better. The vulnerability and teamwork of the commitment we were making would mean a richer life, a life shared.

Again, I feel myself in this place of upending and mourning. As the baby kicks I am filled with awe, but in between kicks I am filled with anxiety. Jake and I are bonded together in a new, terrifying way. We are taking on a responsibility for which there is no real training. We are committing to do our best and love our most honestly, accepting that we will fail often at this endeavor. I am letting go of my body as I know it. Jake and I are opening to a third party the small sacred world of affection we occupy together. We are letting go of sleep and the ability to put off laundry for months at a time. We have made a baby. We will share our lives with this little being and in turn be made richer once again. We are letting go of something good for something altogether better.

How absurd.

And with those thoughts, I enter another year. A very big year indeed. Happy New Year.

MS Paint drawing of yours truly by my dear friend Sarah

auld lang syne

I am ready to say goodbye to 2012. It was a hard and fast year. But, 2013? I've got good feelings about it. And even though 2012 was more difficult than desired, good things happened too. I like to make resolutions and look forward, but I also appreciate a moment to reflect on what I'm taking with me into a new year.

January / a blessing / a family tradition
February / Song a Day Siblings / finding through-lines
March / My Proudest Moment / this event is going to maintain this title for a long time
April / an object of affection / thinking about Meema
May / my favorite part / a tiny post, but a good one (if I do say so myself)
June / the iconic and the lovely / our west coast vaca!
July / on turning 27 / to my dad
August / on Walden Pond / crossing one off the list
September / and we run / a family past time
October / honesty / part of why this year was so hard, and something to bring with us in 2013
November / listening skills / another lesson I'm thankful for

There it is- another year, come and gone, with lots of experiences in between. But, like I said, I'm excited for 2013. I think some big things are on the brink. 

just a year

We have my husband's first treatment of 2012 today. Next month he's due for his 6-month everything- MRI, full blood work, check in with the neurologist. Its always overwhelming, and a little scary, but I'm honestly excited for what 2012 is going to bring on the MS front. I'm excited for the books Jake is reading and the hope they're giving him for gaining some control over the disease. I'm excited for the progress of MS treatments. I'm excited for our new year.

I do think today is the day when saying "Happy New Year" is no longer appropriate though. Its been over a week now. We're all back to work. I'm buying books for my grad classes, and auditions are this weekend for my next couple shows. It's not a new year anymore. Its just a year.

So, Happy Monday instead! And happy whatever-new-things-happen-today.

[photo credit: an etsy shop i love]

let there be time

Montreal was perfect. Just enough energetic, and just enough lay-around-time. More on that tomorrow. Before I reflect on all the French accented fun, I want to give 2011 a proper send out. Jake and I spent quiet moments over the past four days talking about who we want to be in 2012. What kind of marriage do we strive for? What kind of friends, siblings and children do we want to be? Its a lot to think about.

So often we know more what we don't want, than what we do. You date a guy who does that thing and realize you can't end up with a guy with that. You do a certain job and realize it is NOT what you want to invest your energy in. You take a bite and know that you won't order this dish again. Its the learning curve of life. And this is what New Years gives us- a moment to acknowledge what that curve taught us this year- what dishes will and won't be ordered again. 

So here it is. A few things I'm trying to take from 2011:

- Don't press "ignore." Answer the phone! I want people to know I care about them, even if that is as simple as picking up the phone. I never regret sliding that little bar to the right. I don't want to be that person who never picks up.

- Take time. High points of this crazy, hectic, stuffed-full year were when we paused. Our wedding day was absolutely incredible, and I wouldn't have known that as deeply without the respite of our honeymoon. Time. Let there be time. I don't want to be that person who never takes a breath.

- Mutton is disgusting. Don't order it. But do keep eating meat. Leaving 6 years of vegetarianism in the dust was the best undoing of long-held philosophies all year. I don't want to ever get stuck in a rut and stop thinking.

It was quite a year...

...and here's to a new one. I'm already a little overwhelmed with you 2012, but I'm not scared. We're in this together.

Auld Lang Syne

Despite my adamant feelings about embracing Christmas for all its wonder, no matter my age, I struggle with New Years. I think it has something to do with the romantic, adolescent years when I longed for New Years to look and feel like idyllic, televised, Times Square. Instead it just looked like sparkling cider in my living room, and watching the ball drop on the glass screen of our tv. Then, in college, I could only picture the final scene of When Harry Met Sally. No matter how fabulous the New Years Eve party, it just can't live up to that scene.

The last two years were spent with lots of friends and themed dressing up. We ushered in 2011 with a Decade Party- I was clad in an awesome 1970s vintage, paisley and sequins find, and Jake wore a just-as-vintage track suit. He spent the night threatening to wear it at our wedding. The next morning we met back up with the same friends and a crew of us ran three miles to the ocean, and then polar-plunged. I'm third from the left with the guys, trying to look like I'm tough and won't whimper myself into the freezing water.

This year we're trying a new approach- travel. Today we're breaking out our passports and hitting the road north to Montreal. It's our last trip of 2011- the year in which we moved into our first apartment together, got married, and went on our honeymoon. I started grad school this year. We got a dog. We paid off some debt. I turned 25 and Jake turned 30. It was a big year. Time on the road will carve a space for reflection.

And it'll be our first trip of 2012- we're not coming back until Tuesday night. Three days of art museums, boutique European shops, Notre-Dame Basilica, and lots of French food. As for New Years Eve, I'll try to keep my expectations in check. Ice skating and champagne sound just lovely.

Happiest of New Years to you! Here is one of my favorite scenes of all time- what better way to end 2011?