I have never actually met Sarah. But, I want to.
How do I know this?
Because her photos and her words floored me. And I don't think that you can be floored by someone unless they are pretty stinking awesome.
An Alumni group brought us together and I am so privileged that Sarah was willing to reach out to me and collaborate on the Mamma Anthologies. Just beautiful. And, my favorite - honest and very real.
It is now very much my goal to meet this awesome woman someday.
You can check out her amazing work here and further contact information is at the end of the post.
Thank you, Sarah, for your willingness to share and your beautiful story today. It is SO good.
Photos & Text by Sarah G.
Here's the story:
I just hit control-enter down to the fourth page. I'm a ridiculously sentimental and emotional person, and my first three tries at this Mama Anthology project earlier this week were about beautiful things: my daughters learning to be sisters, my journey through mamahood as a biological mama and adoptive mama (both commonly known as just “mama”), and sentimental letters to my daughters. But here I am. It's Friday night at 9:47, and I'm just feeling like it's time for a different story. I remember somewhere Ashley wrote the word “honest” when describing the takes on motherhood she was excited to see. Well, this is one part of the honest, my friends.
I love my kids. Yeah, I know you know what I'm going to say next. Whenever mamas write about the tough parts of mamahood, we have to start it with that line. It's in the handbook (or so I hear – I never did receive that handbook). And it's so true. I love my girls so much that sometimes I feel like my heart will burst. They have opened my eyes to a kind of love I never knew existed. I feel beyond honored to be their mama.
But, dammit, sometimes...
Sometimes I am done for. I need a Heath bar and a glass of crème brulee beer (yes, that's just as delicious as it sounds), and I need some kind of alone. Tonight is that night. It was just the kids and me for 4 of the last 5 days and nights (deep bow to the single parents out there – deep, deep bow). One stayed home from preschool one morning from being sick, and I tried with all my might to work while she sang extremely loudly about her deep love of fairies (it went a little something like this: “I love faiiiiiiiries! I loooooove faiiiiiiiiries” x100000000). One has been having recurring nightmares of burping a flower out of her mouth (no, I promise I'm not making that up). We're all tired and battling sickness. I feel like my patience is drained, and my energy too.
But... I love them so. Even when they howl in the morning when I wake them up for school (even when I've let them sleep in). Even when they give me a hug and “mistakenly” rub food all over my favorite shirt. Even when I get an email from a fellow mama because her daughter got off the bus crying because my daughter said they couldn't be friends anymore. I love them. Even when they sneak my wallet off the counter and take out all my cards while I'm checking out a lens at the camera store (they're kind of like small tigers, waiting to pounce when I am weakly distracted). Especially when they climb onto the shelf at the craft store to snuggle with a bolt of flannel. I love them. Even when, while in the checkout line at said craft store, they head to the tiaras and put at least 5 on each of their heads, then twirl around with them on when I've already asked them to put them back three times. Even when we are in a hurry to leave and they're climbing on the cart rack, performing wild feats of daring do. Even when they decide it's time to have a dance party instead of put on their pj's. Especially when they do that. Even when they have full-on meltdowns at bedtime because they each want to cuddle the same stuffed animal at night. (Sidenote: all of these things and many more happened today, the same day I had a small meltdown from being overwhelmed and also witnessed my business proposal shot down.)
I love them, and I love them, and I love them. I love them when they're mad, when they're happy, when they're driving me completely insane, when they're silly, when they're horrible, when they're amazing, when they're tired. I love them all the time. And I tell them that.
And it's worth it when my oldest sees me struggling with her little sister in the morning, trying to take deep breaths and be patient – and she takes my head in her hands and says, “It's all going to be alright, Mama. You know that, right?” just the way I say to her. And when I lose that patience and my youngest does a “Mama! I have to whisper something in your ear!” And I bend down to hear in a soft whisper, “I love you. Even when you're mad at me. And even when we're happy. And up to the moon and the stars and in my heart.”
And I love them. And when they finally fall asleep, I head straight for that crème brulee beer. And it's all glorious.
Sites I Dig
The Road is Home
The Seed & Plate
Sharon Covert Photography
The Define School
The Noisy Plume
Sarah Gee Photography
Fox & Owl Studio
The Stork and The Beanstalk
Mellow Yellow Photography
A Simple Little Journal
What I've Been Reading
The Girls by Emma Cline
A Land More Kind Than Home by Wiley Cash
Dark Places by Gillian Flynn
Never Broken by Jewel
Hold Still by Sally Mann