deep feelers

I am a deep feeling person.  I have birthed some very, deep feeling people.

Being a deep feeling person is a blessing, and it can feel like a curse sometimes, too.  I am easily able to feel deeply for other people because of this gift, and I think this helped me in not becoming a bully in school… and I see this is also a tool that is helping my own children not be the bully in school.  We genuinely do not want people to feel bad.  When people feel bad, we feel bad.  We deep feelers can also fall in love, and love people very easily and quickly.  It is so good to be loved by deep feelers, and it is so good to love as a deep feeler.  There is lots of  happy with deep feelers, lots of over-excitement (which is probably my best trait in life – if you need someone to get excited for you, I am usually going to be your girl).  Lots of joy and lots of hope.  But there is also lots of sad, lots of hurt feelings, lots of mixed emotions, and plenty of being misunderstood in this world that would like you to just not feel.

Raising my own little deep feelers has taught me so much about being more gentle in this life.  Being more gentle with people, and especially being more gentle with myself.  As my first deep feeling baby grew up, I realized that she and I were just alike – there was nothing wrong with me at all, which I had previously suspected, due to the world’s standards.  I simply came this way, just like she did.  I learned to embrace my deep-feelingness, along with hers.

We are not “dramatic” or “overly emotional” or “too sensitive”, we are just feeling… all the way down to our hearts.  All day, every day.

By far, the hardest thing I’ll do as a deep feeling mother, is send my deep feeling child out into the world.

Please be gentle with them, I’ll plead with the universe.
Please don’t let them be teased by other kids at school.
Please don’t let them be too harshly disciplined by their teachers.
Please don’t let any unkind words damage their free little spirits.
Please don’t lead them to toxic friendships, relationships, people who will misunderstand their deep feelingness.
Please protect their relationship with themselves.
Please help them to embrace their deep feelingness for the blessing that it is.
Please let them love – freely, and wholly, and without fear.
Please let them embrace the world’s pain, and learn from it.
Please lead them to the ones who need to be loved.
Please help them find ways to help this world.
Please embrace them, 
I’ll say to the universe.
Don’t make them feel like they’re broken.
They are NOT broken.

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snippets of our happy place

One quiet Friday afternoon, my house was (mostly) tidy, my babies were sleeping and the house was quiet.  I love afternoons like this that sneak into a busy week and feel calm and effortless.  They are like oxygen to a busy mother.  I walked around the house – touches of my nestings in every single nook.  My house wasn’t in perfect condition, but I snapped a few pictures anyway.  This lived-in home is a happy one for my family.  I love the feeling of walking through my door to be greeted by it’s bright colors, stories, and evidence of life all around it.

I am such an advocate for creating a happy space in your home.  Whether you live in a student’s apartment, or the dream house you built last year… you deserve to be so happy in your own home.  Hang some things on the wall, add in touches you love in accessories, invest time in nesting your space.  You will be surprised by how much of a difference it makes.

I sure love our happy little home.

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reunited


 

On labor day weekend, we packed up our borrowed trailer and our family of 6 for our first ever real camping trip.

Brady’s family (The Harris Family, Major’s namesake) come from all over the place – Colorado, Nevada, Utah, and Arizona to camp together for 3 days on arguably the most beautiful mountain in Utah, Pine Valley.  Because we are lucky to have Pine Valley in our city’s backyard, in years past we have opted to sleep in our own beds and travel up for the day.  But this year, for some reason, we felt a pull to stay up on the mountain.  I’ll call it: divine suggestion.

We had not a lick of cell phone service, so we left our screens in the truck all weekend and enjoyed some serious old fashioned family togetherness.  Nothing superb or extravagant came up over the weekend, but even still it felt like an incredible weekend.  I really wanted to UNPLUG, and that also meant from carrying my phone around every second for pictures.  So, I sacrificed a lot of photo-ops, but still feel sound about my decision.  Here are some things I don’t want to forget about the Harris reunion 2016.

  • No family makes you feel like you have birthed the royal bloodline like the Harris family.  The great-aunts dote over the little ones like they are little kings and queens.  I was glad to be nursing Major, because otherwise I wouldn’t have seen him all weekend.  That son of mine knew just how to take in the attention.  He smiled each time he was looked at, calmly went from person to person, and when he was tired, he would simply slump down on the shoulder of the person he was being carried.  Angel boy!
  • My girls were so busy crafting in the craft area, building forts in the woods, running around playing with cousins, hiking, climbing, and game-playing that I pretty much didn’t see them all weekend, but my goodness they had a blast.  My heart swelled with each filthy pair of jeans I placed into the washer once we got home.  Childhood at it’s finest, I tell you.
  • Grae couldn’t wait to go to “the mountains” and she liked it just as much as she thought she would.  She announced at least 200 times, “Mommy! I see the mountains!” throughout the weekend.  She of course marched to her own little beat, and when she was tired she would say “mommy, you wrap me?” and I would sling her in my wrap (because Major clearly wasn’t going to be needing it with 100 extra arms around). She snoozed in that sling each day and I felt us connect in a way we hadn’t for a while.  Tender mercies!
  • Stella got a pocket fisherman for her birthday and was bound and determined to use it.  A whole truck load of cousins went down to the lake, and about an hour later, they all walked home.  Where is Stella and Brady? I asked.  At the lake.  Stella refused to come home until she caught her first fish, which she did! Made her whole trip!
  • We slept terribly the first night, and I wanted to go home for the second night, but Mr. Miller urged me to consider staying another night.  Usually, he would have given into me easily, but I knew he wanted to stay, so I dropped the matter.  He switched me places on the second night and hopped up for each child’s need, in place of me doing it.  We all slept soundly that next night and I was so glad we stayed.  I felt extra grateful for a good man to love me, and a good father to raise my babies with.

On the drive home we talked about how amazing it is to have a family so large with zero animosity or negativity – at all.  Each Harris loves and adores the next.  And never for a second do I feel like an “in-law”.  I wondered for a lot of the ride home how I ever lived without the Harris’s for the first twenty years of my life. I’m still not sure, but I’m so glad I’m part of their tribe now.  I can only hope I will raise a posterity just as special. ♥

 

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Are we done now?

Another month has ticked by where I feel like I have somehow cheated the system because I was given the perfect baby.

It feels like I got home from the grocery store, after spending $15 to find out that I received $50 worth of groceries.  I call the store, and they say, “Our mistake! You keep the extra groceries, you lucky lady, you!”

I’m so happy and in love with this baby, I almost feel guilty.Does everyone love their baby as much as I do?  Did I love all my other babies this much?  And I’m reminded that yes, they do, and I did.

“So.. are you done now?” they ask, abruptly bursting my baby bliss bubble.

Am I done? I think.  Am I done loving a tiny human this much?  Am I done smelling heaven at the nape of his neck every time I feel like it?  Am I done squishing perfect human flesh, filled with soft, billowy, heavenly chub?  Am I done being so very loved for zero reason or performance?  Simply because I am me, and that is so extremely, terribly enough for this little baby angel/human.  Am I done?  The question feels insulting.

“Three girls and a boy, that sounds perfect, doesn’t it?” Mr. Miller more states than questions.  And I agree, it does seem perfect.  But is it?  Can I close this chapter and be okay with the perfectness now?  Will the perfectness and fulfillment of my family this size last?  What about the next stage?  Will they all love me this much forever?  Will my womb ever stop longing for another to grow?  Will my hip ever stop asking for the weight of my own growing baby to sit?  Will my breast ever stop expecting to give and give and give?  Will my arms ever stop reaching out to pull my baby into them?  Will my soul be okay with never receiving another life through it?  These babies of mine have been life, they have been answers, they have been God, and love, and truth, and purpose.  These babies have been sometimes my sole source of happiness.  If I stop having them, will I be able to continue life by myself?  What will that mean for me?   What will that mean for us?

As these thoughts swirl through my head in a ferocious emotional storm, the baby fusses.  He’s hungry, and he clings tightly to me as I feed him.  His paws kneed at my chest, his legs wiggle on my lap, his fingers tangle into my dangling hair.  In this moment, I am every single thing he needs, and he is every single thing I need.  And that is so extremely, terribly enough.

Maybe I can’t finalize this chapter because I don’t have to yet.  Certainly he, and the heavens above, don’t need that answer today.  So I’ll put those questions in a box and pull them out much, much later.  Because I am in a love affair with motherhood in this stage right now, and the question of “maybe one more?” can dangle around and keep the magic abreast for a little while longer. ♥

 

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