mothered by love

I am Jeanette. Daughter of Doreen​ Granddaughter of Charlotte Great Granddaughter of Alice. Mother of Julianna Amelie Grace and Isabella Charlotte Rose This is my motherline. I was mothered in a way that gave me freedom, and voice, and a path of my own. I was mothered to see good, …

Julianna Amelie Grace – 8 years

My Julianna Amelie Grace. Eight years. How is it possible? We’ve sure lived some life together since then. More changes than I ever could have imagined possible on the stormy night you were born. More joy. More sadness. More celebration. More heartache. More crazy, brilliant, goofy, silliness. Transition after transition …

Dearest Isabella {a birthday letter}

Dear Isabella, Eleven years ago today I welcomed you into the world.  You were everything I had dreamed. From your birth story: With a rush that was almost anti-climactic her body slid out of mine and my husband and midwife brought her up out of the warm water and onto …

magic balm

There is no clock in my room at the summer house, not even an electrical outlet. It’s one of those undetermined witching hours between midnight and dawn.  I am drowsy but not asleep, struggling with the wicked combination of jet lag and a brain that has the propensity to buzz …

let her doodle

she doodles everywhere. faces and shapes and lines. simple and complex. fantastical, nonsensical free flow and elaborate, deliberate worlds. on letters, and envelopes, and the back of her sisters advent calendar. on the clipboard attached to the wall above my desk. on checks waiting to make it into my bank …

a mama’s heart.

I have a mama’s heart. It may have something to do with the two girls who lie now in their rooms just down the hall from where I sit tonight pecking away on my keyboard. The older, stuffy nose and red swollen eye be damned, is stealing a last few …

art is always real

We were in Julie’s room one night, my eldest daughter and I.  I wanted to show her how the canvas painting she had carefully labored over for Julie’s Christmas gift was framed and hung on the wall. I said, gazing at her masterpiece with no small amount of motherly pride, …

wholeness

I’m on my way to bed, but I leave the hall light on for a moment to tiptoe into her room.  Every night I do this right before bed, sneak into their rooms one last time, my light kiss on the head a prayer to the universe to keep them …