June Photo-Dump: Beautiful Chaos

I know, I know – It’s August. I know … *sigh* …

Oh, June. Who remembers June? Friends and food. Summer is a sure thing for good food and good friends. Strawberries from our garden. Farmer’s markets in full swing. Old friends we miss now that school is on break and schedules have changed. We made some new friends in the grocery store, though, which was serendipitous. (Although we haven’t seen them now for a month. I’m terrible at friends.)

And we got a new (old) lawn chair from a neighbor, a new favorite toy from an Instagram friend, and a new carseat ’cause my baby isn’t a baby anymore.

I got to attend my friend Amy’s birth as a totally rookie doula, which was amazing beyond words, but you know me: I tried using words anyway.

He watches sunsets now, and sleeps in when he wants to. He likes skateboards and he was practicing dribbling a basketball when the big kids took the skateboard away. At least he’s still too small for the carnival rides.

Because I’m definitely not ready to let go of him. Not ready to watch him walk through that little gate and take his place on a dragon or a train, or anything that’s going to move him beyond my reach – up and dow, spin him around, and all on someone else’s terms, guarded by someone I don’t know. It’s just a small circle. He’ll be right back.

How do mamas ever survive their babies growing up? 

How do you ever send them to sleepovers or college or watch them kiss their new brides without your heart rupturing in your chest? How do you ever find the courage to let him walk through doors without you to find his own place on this adventure? How do you ever muster the self control to stand still on the other side of the fence and smile and wave and make faces while he spins and rolls beyond the safety of your arms?

I don’t know if I’m brave enough to be a mama after all.

Fortunately for me, I got to end June in the presence of mama greatness. Jay and Raynna were gracious enough to host us for a couple nights on our journey to Myrtle Beach last month. I spent the day in awe of their six amazing children, and the sweet, gentle woman who nurtures them. A month later I know I still speak with great reverence of that morning – watching her conduct the orchestrated chaos that somehow (I’m still not sure how) landed eleven people around a huge breakfast of fruit salads and home-made biscuits and gravy.

Maybe that was the theme for June: beautiful chaos. I think that’s a pretty accurate description of my life recently – from babies becoming toddlers and to learning how to work from home with said toddler (which sometimes means forts and very long morning baths and pots of water in the backyard … and very long afternoon baths), to carnivals and home births and sunsets and puddles.

But I think it’s important to note that this is more of a Monet than a Pollock. Up close – in the moment – both look like a mess, but no one is flinging chaos on a canvas and arbitrarily declaring it beautiful. A Monet from the proper perspective is beautiful, but I’ve also never seen one incomplete. I imagine it still looks like a mess until its finished, and only the Artist knows when that is – or when it will be.

It’s so easy to get overwhelmed by the lights and the noise and the unpredictability of it all – the chaos. But if I can remember to take a step back, the beauty eventually appears – or if it hasn’t yet, I can at least know that it will when I’m finished.