This is my Camino

There are days my mind drifts back to the sway of trees, cool mountain air, and floating coffee aromas of the Camino. I close my eyes and the path is before me, mounds of backpacks lumbering into the horizon barely formidable in the hues of the distance. Deep breaths for the day, the quiet rhythm of boots crossing a sandy path, and the Return. Always the return into the mysterious morning silence ushering in the morning fog with all its promises for the day. Hushed whispers cross the path, friendships form, stories exchanged. Water from a stranger, shade from a tree, snacks of olives and prunes from local food stands. The not knowing of where you will lay your head and the trust that you will always have a place. The top of a church enclave, the basement of Catholic mass, perhaps the attic of a local’s home will become a safe haven for the night.

In reality here I am with my whiney toddler, pregnancy hormones, and a floor that hasn’t been actually cleaned in weeks. The chaos of my day engulfs my thoughts with no sign of the unhurried time of the Camino anywhere. I was explained this my friend Jenny recently and she told me: Rebecca, this is your Camino. This is your Camino now, in real life, happening before your eyes. That night I was brushing my teeth and disappearing into the fantasyland of possibly having no children in the house someday and silence and all the time in the world to wash my hair, and in that moment I heard - that time will come, but this is the spiritual practice. The peas smushed into the floor, the cries of my child as he reaches up to be held, the laughter of showing him a world of adventures. This is the Camino.

It is common along the path to encounter pilgrims on their fifth, sixth, seventh Camino. We all carry a longing to return to the place of transformation. We think it is the place that has formed us, crowning it with a magic we expect to continually rediscover there. No doubt, the history and landscape of the Camino is spiritually charged in a way I have rarely encountered in other places. But we don’t live our lives along the Camino. The Camino is in fact the life we encounter after Spain. To bring the path here, to see each day within the mystery of opportunity is to find God along life’s Camino. The Camino lays the foundation, gives me a framework, and has allowed me to experience these days as part of the journey.

We need friends who have walked with us over years of time to remind us of these truths. To help us return to what we already know about ourselves. Thank you Jenny for being that for me; for seeing me and using this sacred experience to help me see Motherhood more clearly. There is nobody else like you. You have reminded me that this is my Camino and I will carry these words in my heart.

His little breathing when he falls asleep in the car and his answer with “yeah’s” to every question. 

The way he stomps his feet to go crunch, crunch, crunch in the leaves and runs to gives us open mouth kisses. 

Fascinated by every airplane that goes by and waving to every dog. 

Going up and down the playground with the proudest little closed mouth grin like he just accomplished something wonderful. 

He bounces his head up and down every time he hears music and could sit and listen forever. 

He has the sweetest, most sensitive spirit that I’m learning will someday be his strength. 

He is filled with joy that is contagious among strangers everywhere we go. 

His red hair is continuously a talking point and the subject of many interactions throughout our day. 

He doesn’t like to nap more than an hour a day, but it’s only because he has so much curiosity and excitement with life, combined with his daddy’s FOMO, which I know will ultimately lead him on extraordinary adventures. 

I love this child with a love so deep that he can cause my heart to burst with joy and simultaneously tear my heart in two at any given moment. (How does that work?!) 

My prayer is that he will grow to be courageous and strong, knowing God is with him wherever he goes (Joshua 1:9). 

This little boy is a world changer and we are so lucky to be entrusted to guide him as he grows. 

Partial Solutions

On Saturday, we headed north to Cardiff on an 84 degree day to watch the sunset behind the ocean as Ben caught some waves with a friend. Jack and I splashed in puddles on the sand and chased birds on the shore.

While hanging on the beach with my friend Raquel, we discussed the reality of being a Mom. Giving up freedoms, making sacrifices, constantly multi-tasking... the usual stuff. I asked her how she manages to work out at home with a three year old and a baby and she asked me - have you heard the term "partial solutions?" I have heard of this, in fact, but in this moment it struck me in a different way.

Our days are not perfectly smooth and we don't always accomplish what I had thought we would in that day. But I am learning to live into "partial solutions." Which is difficult for a perfectionist like me. So often I strive for the fully achieved goal (I'm even hesitant to post this blog, because I don't have time to comb back through it before Jack awakes from his nap...), but something is better than nothing.

Today, this is my partial solution. Writing here is better than not writing at all. Here I am, in full form, unedited, but it's better than nothing. Some days, that's all I can manage. And that's okay.

Japan, in brief

What we discovered in Japan is that extended travel as a parent is a completely different thing.

When we were dating, we took a 10 day road trip up the coast. Slept in our car, tent camped along the way, biked the 18 mile drive outside Santa Barbara. We stopped anywhere and everywhere that looked dreamy and magical. When we were Newlyweds, we flew off on a 17 day European Adventure. No responsibility, no care in the world. We eagerly woke up to explore cafes and walk 30k steps. We did as much as we could (including an unlimited gelato festival TWICE) and returned tired each night, yet ready for the next day.

Enter Japan where the mantra was please just let me be in bed as long as I want in the morning with a quiet cup of coffee and perhaps something to read.

We observed our pathetic get-out-of-the-door-around-noon selves, joking that we didn't need to go to Japan to make that happen.

But we DID go to Japan and what a dreamy country it is! We were drawn to it for the obvious reasons - sushi, Ramen, Hello Kitty - but walked away knowing it for all the not-so-obvious reasons. The culture is one that forever remains with me. Gracious, service-oriented, kind, quiet. Bows to strangers; the cleanest streets I have ever seen. The 7-11's where you can buy a full gourmet meal and mochi on the side. The Japanese Moms looking effortlessly chic in dresses and stockings toting two children on their bike and one on their back. Markets lined with fresh fish being served up on rice and rows of squid samples that we passed down. The train stations where people file in line and DO NOT CUT, as a social norm. Such a culture I have never seen before, nor do I expect to see again.

One of my favorite days involved renting bikes in Kyoto and exploring shrines and villages in the surrounding area. It was a perfect 75 degrees. We stopped for beers and meat buns. We had a full view of the mountains encapsulating this idyllic city. Wafts of noodles floated through our path as tiny streets appearing as alleyways gave way to bike lanes. Days of these kind don't come along too often and will remain one of the happiest memories of our lifetime.

There is also the kimonos, the onsen (spa) culture, the tea, the kaiseiki, the miso soup for breakfast, the high speed Shinkansen train, the fact that Ben was a full foot taller than most people... but those are memories harder to put into words and easier to experience in entirety when there.

Here's a few photos from our trip.

That Shrine Life. It's a thing. Tokyo, Day One.

Sashimi lunch bowls at a locals spot where we had to point to pictures to order.

Train Station food was some of our favorite! Gourmet, fresh, delicious. Also - the trains there are very fast.

My biker babe.

We discovered the joy of eating with a bib the last day. Didn't realize how much slurping noodles gets on your clothes!

And of course, all was made possible by Grandma Mickey who has an inseparable bond with our little Jack.

This morning started with Jack tears and ended with mine. Usually his moods don't effect me to the extent of joining him; but on this particular morning - a combination of jet lag, of pregnancy, of Ben leaving early, of Jack screaming and screaming and screaming - it got to me. I felt the exhaustion of being with him. And then spiraled into questions of - If I can barely handle him how can I handle two?! And then persisted to Google Parent-Day-Out programs and scrambled through an email to put Jack on a Wait List. And counted down how many years until he's in school or out of the house or I don't know - married?!

I didn't know what to do so I drove to the mall. I guess that's where I go to feel consoled (?!). Jack finally stopped crying, but I did not. When we arrived, I had to walk around for a bit because there was no way I was walking into Zara with a return with such embarrassingly puffy eyes.

Jack played and laughed by the fountain and I started laughing as well. I looked back on the hours of our morning as a seemingly distant memory. Although if someone asked me - How are you? I was surely to breakdown into a puddle before them.

There are moments like this as a mom. We don't have it all together all the time and can't be expected to. It is a hard season right now - learning how to navigate a new rhythm of my one year old refusing to nap and in turn being whiney and throwing tantrums when he doesn't get his way. Learning to find God throughout my day when all I can think about is wanting a nap. People say "These are the days!" and I don't fault them for it. But also - memory fails us (you). Yes, there are so many delightful moments with Jack when I wish nothing more but to be present with him in all his joy and curiosity with life. But there are also these kind of moments when the world feels like it's beating down on you causing ruin to everything you used to know and love in life which in turn seems to erase your identity itself.

God gave me a gift because for the first time in weeks Jack is napping - for over an hour. I have a second to pause. A moment to breathe. Perspective. Awe. Gratitude.

Yes we just returned from Japan. More on that to come.

Written the Other Day

As I sit by the water with Jack finally asleep after a long and hard protest, I am reflecting in gratitude for moments in between the exhaustion that have been life-giving, abundant in beauty, and filled with the type of feeling I want to hold onto forever.

We drove to find fall up in Julian last weekend, and it was everything autumnal I could hope for this season. We walked around town in beanies and Patagonias, reminiscent of cooler temps in the Midwest this time of year. We picked out pumpkins with Jack and took pictures in the patches. We picnic’ed in the hay field and Jack made us laugh with his constant babble, little expressions, and teeter-totter walk. His instability led him to taking a tumble on the gravel, splitting open his hand and lip... so we drove to a local convenience store and bathed him in hydrogen peroxide. Minor injuries and a teary Jack didn’t stop us from grabbing homemade pie on the way home. It is a day I will never forget and hope to replicate year after year as our family grows.

We took time to rest the past few weekends. To slow down and do some yard work and watch football and nap and be together. Most of our weekends have been filled with travel and visitors (which we love) - but it’s always a treat to slow down a bit and spend time enjoying our home.

The exhaustion comes when Jack refuses his naps (he does MAX an hour a day split between morning and afternoon....) and the screaming while trying to get him to sleep for 45mins each time wears on me. I am learning to focus my perspective on the positive. I am thankful for Jack and being home with him, even in the draining moments. He does not make it easy on his momma! But I’m here for all of it - the messy and hard and tiring days - I will keep showing up for him.

Teaching two nights a week has been a needed mental and physical release for me. I am nearing the end of the term and we have our trip to Japan on the horizon. I am ready to have a little break and time away with Ben doing what we do best - exploring and eating and being together.

My hope in this season is to continue to renew my mind in Christ. My world can get so small and my focus so convoluted some days. When Scripture is in my heart and I remember that it’s not about how much time I spend with God, but that I direct the entirety of my being towards him throughout my day that is where transformation happens. I want my mind to meditate more on Him and building His kingdom. I am learning what this looks like in this season. I am trying to be Present with open eyes and ears to what He’s doing around me and in Jack.

I want joy to be the hallmark of my days. And this is only possible through gratitude. I am so thankful for this life God has given us - we have more than we could ever ask or need.

ReplyForward

The things I've learned this summer:

I really really love being a mom and have accepted this part of my Identity. It is not the entirety of who I am, but a piece of me has come alive in this calling in a way nothing else could've shaped me.

Parenting a toddler is fun and challenging - but in ways so much more enjoyable than a newborn. Maybe I wasn't made for newborn life... but last summer was SO hard. The adjustment to being a mom, the lack of sleep, the postpartum hormones, the newborn that can't wear sunscreen, the labor recovery, the thought of not returning to work, the new rhythm, the loneliness, the constant questioning if I was equipped, the breastfeeding, the screamy cries lasting for hours, the nighttime swaddling and rocking and feeding, the claustrophobic sense of being with a tiny human and no adults all day, the homesickness, the paralyzing "should's" from everyone, the sleep training, the EVERYTHING. In ways, if I could have another child and skip the newborn phase, I probably would. Or at least cancel out the first 3 months??? I am incredibly thankful for this summer with Jack. For pool days and library storytimes and park strolls, and beach evenings with a picnic and chasing seagulls and Daddy. This summer with a toddler in tow has been magical!

It's okay not to travel. In the past, it has felt like we would have a trip at least every month. This year, we slowed down a bit - a little due to focusing our funds and energy into yard-making, but also because it is no longer too relaxing to travel with an active child. We have done day trips here and there to give us our fix, but nothing too long or far away. And it opened up the opportunity for us to truly enjoy the beauty and settle into the simplicity of SD life.

I can live anywhere when I have friends. I used to take Jack on walks around the neighborhood and pray that God would give me just one friend. I'm not asking for too much over here, just one - I would tell Him. He knows the desires of my heart and has given me not one but TWO of my best mom friends here in Clairemont. Walking over to the Busches for a Sunday hang of hot dogs and beers last night made me feel that much more connected and grateful. It doesn't matter where you live as long as there is community.

Ben makes it possible for me to thrive. Parenting is such a game of teamwork. We need communication and support and to love one another in the ways that deeply speak to each other. I couldn't do each day without Ben. He taps in when I tap out. We look for ways to serve one another. We are growing in the process.

Finished is more important than perfect. It used to be difficult for me to start things if I knew it couldn't be perfect. Sometimes this led to me staying up way too late on a project and other times it led to not starting anything at all. With new time constraints and continual interruptions and a child who gets into literally everything, I don't have time to make things perfect. Whether it's cleaning the kitchen or working out or writing a card or making dinner or writing a blog post or planning for my upcoming classes, I used to tell myself that it was never enough. Do more and work harder. While I strive to do excellent work, I have learned to be honest with how much time I can devote to things. Some days a 10 minute yoga youtube is all I can do... and that's okay. 5 minutes of reading before bed is better than nothing. And sending the gift is better than waiting for the most perfect and thoughtful item to come along (then subsequently send it late...). I still really want to make family photobooks and the perfectionistic feeling is REAL. I am learning to just get it done instead of make every photo edited and flow together with the next one. I'm a work in progress in this area!

It's more work to get out of the house, but it's always worth it. Somedays it's crazy - between Jack not napping and the endless trying-to-do-it-all. But if I can plan one fun outing for us, it puts myself and Jack in a better mood. It feels more adventurous and more lifegiving. Our favorite things to do together are: Fanuel Street Park, La Jolla library, Communal Coffee (kids area), San Diego Zoo, Children's Museum, PB Tuesday Farmer's Market, Mt. Etna Street Park, Waterfront Park, Little Italy/Lofty Coffee, Mom Hangs at the Pool, Trader Joe's (yes it's an outing)... and now that school is back in session we will plan to go for walks on Mission Beach boardwalk again (otherwise it's too full of tourists!) - if/when Jack decides he likes the stroller again. Ugh.

Waking up early is always worth it, too. On the days I have gotten up before Jack, everything seems more palatable. The morning is when my brain is the most fresh, the most ready and primed for the day. I sit outside with my journal. I watch the leaves wave in the morning air. I pray. I drink coffee while it's hot. I settle into the day in a more peaceful way than a screaming toddler. This is something I aspire to make more of a habit and integrate into my daily routine.

I used to sense the deepest inspiration from urban environments and traveling, which is not my reality right now. So looking for ways to grow on a daily basis is a discipline I am always trying to lean into.

Jack in the 5pm light.

I just want to stare at this photo all day. My two best guys right here.

Pirate booty keeping Jack occupied past his naptime at the beach.

Canary yellow wallpaper and plastic and mini hot dogs in the oven. A bird singing in the corner brings life to stale air like a deflated balloon slowly blowing up to real size. A den dark and dusty filled with couches we were allowed to sit on and a firm rust carpet smelling clean but not fresh. All the other couches are reserved for Adults, covered in plastic because in my seven year-old mind, they are always moving. Butterscotch candies and those strawberry ones that had a filling nobody liked. Two movies to choose from: Ratoutoille - the singing cartoon mouse - or Fantasia - the one that scared me with the dancing brooms. Dimly lit lamps so fragile because they are made of seashells and quilted blankets pulled tight over mounds of pillows. My Grandma Audrey in an oversized moo moo, blotting sweat off her forehead before it falls between large plastic glasses frames. My Grandpa is excited to see us, but not the kind of excited that makes you feel that if you wanted to you could stay forever.

This is my memory of Grandma and Grandpa's growing up. I don't have very many more because they lived in California for half the year. This was the first time I learned the existence of California. I pictured sun and golf and old people.

I had no idea I would live here. I had no idea Palm Springs, where my Grandma and Grandpa spent those six winter months, would be a frequented getaway spot for me and my friends. I had no idea I would get married here or raise a child here. I had no idea I would have a home here. Sometimes life tricks you in that way. You have an idea of a place you never considered living because you think you're headed in a particular direction, then you're displaced and off kilter and end up in the land that only existed in your imagination; materialized in front of you it feels different than your thoughts so much so that you're convinced it is a different place than the one you first heard about when you were seven.

And you love it with a love that you didn't know you could have for another place from which you did not originate. A piece of your heart loves it; perhaps not your whole heart. But still, you feel connected. Maybe because of the seven year old picture or maybe because you have made it Home. There is something inherently beautiful here that gives you an imagined memory of your Grandparents laughing by the pool, drinking Chardonnay by the stars, and strolling in the cool desert evening. A piece of you feels like you might have existed here before you knew it. That it's not an off-course journey traveled, but the one you were on from the beginning. Starting with those wallpapered walls and mini kitchen TV and the tiny bird chirping in the corner.

Weekend Getaway: Laguna

In most ways, Ben and I pride ourselves in being Minimalists.

We like uncrowded corners, the Essentials Only, and the things we have are the things we regularly use. Ben is, of course, better at it than I am. I thought I was completely organized until we met and I saw his pantry. We both appreciate this way of life and compliment each other in this way.

However, I realized this weekend that we are also Maximalists.

While not necessarily in the lifestyle/home way - in the moments type of way. Putting Jack to sleep in a shared hotel room is no easy task. While I sat outside listening to him scream, pacing the hallway with the monitor, wondering if everyone hated us, Ben walked five blocks to the grocery store to pick-up sea salt dark chocolate + wine so that we could enjoy our after-bedtime time by the pool with optimistic hopes of sleep for our Jack. While on the way back from a day packed with a surf, run, on-the-go naps (Jack literally fell asleep in Ben's arms as we walked to breakfast!), pool, and packing up, we had a window of time before dinner. Ben suggested we stop by the Safari Park and I'm so glad he did. Even though Jack's hat mysteriously got lost within the first five minutes of walking through the entrance (not sure how he managed to throw it so far?!) we had the park to ourselves. The lions looked right at us and the gorillas made us laugh. It took a bit of standing under the water misters in the 88 degree temps combined with Raffi on youtube for Jack to make it through - but we powered up and did it. And even when we're tired or Jack doesn't nap or we only have a little bit of time, what I continually realize is that it's ALWAYS worth it. These memories and times together as a little family of three are so sacred. I recognize it won't always be this way and I want to be present to it all - in the busyness, sleep deprivation, baby-luggage chaos, being together is the whole purpose.

Jack asleep in Ben's arms on the walk to breakfast

Our little fam!

Always an early morning in a shared hotel room! Surf/Run to start the day

My surfer man

Jack loves the pool and so does Ben

Anything cuter than a pool babe?!

Love starting family traditions with these guys

Photo from our room balcony. And Jack's little face... Can't get enough!

3-3

I want to capture the likeness of thirty-three so far. It has only been 48 hours, but let's be honest - I've been feeling 33 for a lot longer.

When I think about this age, a few words come to mind. Thirty-three is full. It is full of time with Jack, which means scrambled eggs on the floor, a destructive path everywhere he goes, a constant figuring out of toddler brain, a steady stream of iced coffees, frustrated moments of he-won't-nap-and-I-might-go-insane, but lots of giggles and laughter and playing and nakey time, and cuteness in-between. I am thankful for our journey together this past year. Since Jack was only 3 weeks old on my birthday last year, it seems he spent his first year with my new year. In this way, I can't separate this past year from Jack. It has been sleeping schedules and swaddling and googling things at 2am; finding all the kid-friendly hot spots in San Diego, Mom Hangs and Mom Groups (and Mom Group dropouts...), and new Mom Friends and Mom Marco Polos from afar.

This year I essentially learned how to be a mom. I didn't love it the first 6 months. I desperately missed time with Ben where I felt fully alive, I missed the freedom to meet up with friends or go to the grocery without a little one in tow, I missed my pre-baby body, I missed long slow mornings full of coffee and pancakes and binge-watching Narcos, I missed freely wearing clothes that weren't "breastfeeding friendly" or stained in milk, and I missed traveling with Ben without adhering to naptimes and bedtimes. Mostly I missed sleep. Because without sleep, everything is clouded in a hazey foggy wonderland of feeling like you're mostly drowning but coming up for air every so often. After sleep training Jack around 4 months, he slept through the night most nights, but I was still doing a dreamfeed around 10pm (which we dropped around our anniversary at 7 months thanks to Grandma Mickey in town!) I continued to pump every single night until he turned one. And now - free from this crazy world of Baby, I have finally returned to myself. My hormones have steadied, my body feels better than ever, and I feel a new sense of stable that I didn't realize I missed so much.

Jack hasn't napped in about two weeks, but I jotted this down on my phone while taking him for a walk on my birthday:

At 33, I can honestly say that I have finally returned to myself. While there is beauty in the journey of pregnancy, newborn life, and breastfeeding over the past *almost* two years - (and I hope to be there again at some point) - I am equally thankful to be none of those things today. I step into a new year with gratitude and joy for this season - teaching 2 courses in the fall term, trips to CO, TX, IL, and JAPAN in Oct - I have so much to look forward to in this season and I want to be fully present for it all. I am on my knees thanking God for a new year!

As an enneagram three, we are slow to take pride in our own accomplishments. We are always seeking more, trying to be better, and achieving a new goal. I find myself always working towards something, because without the sense of achievement I am lost. But today I am filled with joy and a sense of awe with being a mom. I have learned new depths of selflessness this year in ways nothing else could've taught me other than Jack. He is my focus and my attention. My heart bursts with wanting the best for him. While at the same time, Ben is my ultimate priority. And with him, being a Mom is doable. He tells me when I need a pedicure, encourages me to buy a new dress or go get my hair done, regularly tells me to treat myself to a coffee, and above all - he is the reason I can stay home and give my life to our Jack Attack. He is my co-partner in it all - thank GOD. He brings out the best in me. He steps in when I just can't do it anymore. He loves me unconditionally. Life is better with Ben, and Jack has brought a new richness and intimacy that I didn't know our marriage could feel. Reading a card from Ben on my birthday brought me to tears because I realized that I never thought I would read words directed to me like what I read from Ben on my birthday. He is my distant dream materialized. I never want to forget that or take it for granted.

Full, yes. 33 is full of opportunities on the horizon and life to look forward to. Of course there is the daily "humdrum" of dishes and laundry, but in it exists God's spirit and presence with whom I yearn to connect. I believe 33 will teach me things I can't see yet and I'm here for it all.

We're all happy because I showered.

Hunky husband.

Best dinner and cocktails at Fort Oak. I want to repeat it over and over again!