the colors of mexico

the colors of mexico

the soft flesh of a mango
dripping orange down my chin making a river to my elbows

blue skies, a blue so magnificent, peppered with wispy white clouds, like marshmallows,
the kind they don't sell here at the market

skin every shade of brown,
from dijon yellowish to deep coffee kernels
my sons, who are mexican, güeritos white as crema

the red of pomegranate seeds in september, sprinkled over drowned chiles
my fingers stained after trimming and cutting a kilo of fresas,
and the right side of your flag

green palm branches swaying against a clear sky, the definition of freedom,
the symbol of home I look for
so as to never get lost

pitaya, nopal, guayaba, chayote, camote
rich in color and flavor and dense in nutrients
that replenish the soul

our feet, after a long day of work and play
coated with a dark grey dusting of grime,
evidence that the outside world sneaks past the bars and gates that secure us in

the yellow motorcycle that now mostly sits parked,
reminiscing of its journeys across mountains to oceans days away,
through cobblestoned colonial cities, up the sides of cliffs not forgotten

purple bougainvillea flowers so intense with color,
crawling along brick walls, surviving persistent heat and pounding rain

i'm blinded and reminded
that beauty surrounds me, disguised as it may be
by the gray of concrete and the brown neglected weeds

inspiration.

"there is no greater agony than bearing an untold story inside you." | Maya Angelou

{source}

______________________________

do you have a story waiting to be told?

convos with solo.

Solo: I have a surprise for you!

Me: Oooh... okay. ::closes eyes::

Solo: No winking! Mommy... I say no winking!

-------------------------------------------

Solo: Humpty dumpty sat on the wall, Humpty dumpty fall on the wall.... Wait a minute. That how it go?

Me: ::giggles::

-------------------------------------------

Solo: ::very close to my face:: Mommy? You have a mustache.

Me: When daddy comes home he'll help me take it off. Remember that purple wax stuff?

Solo: ::blank stare::

the next morning...

Solo: ::looking at me intently:: Mommy? You still have that mustache? ::comes closer:: Yep!!

------------------------------------------

Solo: ::playing outside with the hose:: Brr! That water just give me fist bumps!

Me: o_0

inexplicable.

God, you've blessed me.

I woke up with my sick baby 4 times last night, one of which included crying for almost an hour.

I'm so lucky.

My 3 year old still has coughing attacks, and we're not sure of all his food allergies, and it's often he doesn't sleep through the night. His tantrums are fierce and his mood swings unpredictable, but his hugs are gold and his kisses magic.

I'm so incredibly, inexplicably lucky.

Two boys, two perfect and beautiful boys, with their distinct personalities and needs and demands, with their growing love and attachment to one another that literally takes my breath away daily... Them. Entrusted. To me.

I'm so tired. So beat down-exhausted-haven't slept through the night in well over a year-drained. But, if I can look past the weariness and the daily nonstop demands - and today I CHOOSE to look past them - I see that what I have is incredible in ways even I can't wrap my mind around.

That I was chosen to be their mom, that they need me (which so often I complain about their need for me), their silky smooth skin and gummy smiles and contagious laughter and sparkling eyes.... given to me at a cost that sometimes feels unbearably & endlessly hard ...

and yet,

I'm so so unbelievably, undeniably lucky.

My God, how you've blessed me.

~~~~

My words today are born of the grief I feel for Diana and her heavy loss; a loss that my mind cannot fathom, explain, or understand.

two years.

As of today I've been blogging for TWO YEARS.

This here was my very first {and awkward} post. Back then I think two people, maybe 3?, were reading. Now I think I'm up to the double digits.

In May 2010 I had just finished my master's degree in Counseling. I wanted something new to stimulate my brain, some adult interaction, and a creative outlet. This blog was born.

I was one year, almost exactly, into treatment for Postpartum depression & anxiety. I had a 21 month old "baby." I was struggling with the decision to expand our family. I still didn't feel recovered or healed & I was desperately looking for a community to connect with online.

Through this blog I found everything I was longing for, and much, much more.

I found an army of women who've been through the fire I survived.

I found incredible women & mothers to encourage and support me through my second pregnancy and my ongoing postpartum experience, round two.

I am blessed.

With Rainer, almost everything has felt different. I've had this blog to process and vent; I don't feel silenced. I have a support group; I don't feel alone. I have my past experience; I don't feel afraid.

It's hard as hell, don't get me wrong, but I'm making it. We're making it.

"Therefore put on the full armor of God, so that when the day of evil comes, you may be able to stand your ground, and after you have done everything, to stand." {ephesians 6:13}

To Stand.

Two years later, three years into recovery from PPD, another baby born, I'm standing.

Thank you, all who are reading, from the bottom of my heart. You are a piece of that armor.