I am a glow stick.

Jan 12

I wish I could confidently ink the ever popular phrase, “regret nothing” in French of course, somewhere across this fleshy canvas that blankets my soul. I’ve been thinking a lot about this concept sporadically over the past few weeks, maybe years. It would be such a lovely phrase to call my own, to say to myself or others without actually speaking a word.

But I have regrets. I am guilty, and for every occasional day I proclaim “I have no regrets!”, there are two more days that follow, suffocating beneath the opposite sentiment. Is it even realistic or fair to strive to be that person who can say they regret nothing? Somewhere along my 27 year lifeline this ideal was sewn into the thread of my subconscious and placed upon a pedestal. The concept that – sure, we all make mistakes, but one day when you uncover just the right amount of confidence, you’ll feel a glorifying sense of acceptance wash over you and realize that everything happened for a reason. That nothing was wrong, everything was worth it, and regret is just a ghost of Christmas past.

Regrets are like scars, which I also bear – some more proudly than others. They refine, define, and remind. Frederick Nietzsche said that in order to give birth to a shining star, there must be chaos in one’s soul. That concept makes a little more sense, I think. So tonight’s question is: is the chaos better served embraced, mastered, or allowed to run wild and free until death do us part?

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Memorial Day Weekend

May 26

I’ve had a lot on my plate, nothing out of the ordinary. Lately, these girls do the best job of making me slow down without even trying. Like, when I’m trying to catch up on bills or write month-late thank you cards and we decide to make art. Live it. Love it. Go with the flow.
Art Girls

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jindra0526_1

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Someday I will be strong enough to lift not one, but both of us.

Jul 06

Not much to say this week. Today is number *OH WAIT, LOST COUNT* without sleep and I’m less eloquent than I’d prefer. But that’s alright. I do think an occasional smack across the face from life can be beneficial. You know, to remind you that your body and brain have limits [despite all efforts to defy]. I’m still recovering from the residual mixed emotions from my NYC trip along with a myriad of other normal life woes of a 25 year old superwoman. Whine, whine, whine. If I were a grape, I’d be a CABERNET. But tonight I’m a Blue Moon wheat ale. Floating between effervescent and feverish.

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Mother’s Day – 2012

May 13

I just wouldn’t feel right if I didn’t blog on my, well, this feels weird – second Mother’s Day. It technically should be my first, but as my little ladies decided to make their earthly debut a few months early last year – I have TWO under my belt. The best gift I received was in the form of one hour of extra sleep. The new pair of TOMS were pretty fun, too! Audrey and Paige decided to sleep until 8:30 a.m. today, which is a true rarity. They knew I needed it. I haven’t even gotten around to posting pictures from their first birthday party which happened just last week, but here’s a few gems to sum up the most recent day’s events. Mom’s are cool. That’s about all I have left at 11:00 p.m. on a Sunday night.




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April 1, 2012 – Life According to Instagram

Apr 01

Today my lovely ladies are 11 months old. I admit, in a tired sheepish-bad-mama tone, that I nearly forgot until the end of the day. I also forgot that it was April Fool’s day. But I’ve never been too keen on jokes. One year ago I was deepening the dent in my couch with my tiny-yet-large pregnant self, depressed yet excited and whole lot of scared. I probably forgot on that day too, that it was April Fool’s. It’s one of those moody Sunday evenings and I’m winding down in the dim light of my quiet living room with some Adele and a glass of red. Crazy how time flies when you’re having fun. Every parent in the history of ever must say that at one point or another. Here are a few precious moments captured in today’s early morning hours, before life swept me up into another whirlwind haze. If you listen closely, you can hear Monday sharpening her claws.



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