First Guest Post for Dec.: Lindsey

December 2, 2012

Hi Readers!

Welcome to December!

Personally, this is a hard month for me, because it’s the month of endless holiday parties and I don’t really like to be in close spaces for hours with…people.

Thank goodness for the Internet, because I can fraternize with kindred spirits without having to put on pantyhose (okay, you KNOW a man invented pantyhose. Asshole!)

I wanted to let you readers know how much you mean to me; to wrap you in that proverbial fuzzy blanket that gave us childhood comfort and sweet dreams. So I decided to give y’all the Gift of Great Writing this month. In my corner of the world crawl space, nothing gives me more faith in humanity than the words of kindred hearts.

We are separated by distance, but somehow I know these women, in ways that count, and I am so honored to feature the words of them this month.

I’m starting off with Lindsey, who writes so eloquently and with such delicacy that it makes my foul-mouthed butt ashamed at times, but she reminds me to look. And stop. Please welcome her with open arms. xoxoxo–kitch



Moments of Wonder

Last night I folded up a big Target box and put it in the recycling bin.  The box was covered in sharpie words and crayon drawings, and has been a major focus of this house for several days.  As I took it out, noticing that the air is positively swampy with spring as I did so, I thought how thrilled I am that Grace and Whit still find a cardboard box to be a thrilling thing to play with.   The arrival of a big cardboard box is met with celebrating, and provides days of fodder for playing together or alone.  I love this.

It reminded me of the night, a few weeks ago, when I decided to make a chocolate fudge cake that I’d first made for Whit, on his request, last summer.  I surprised the kids with the cake in the morning, and gave them each fat slices for breakfast.  They looked at me, bewildered wonder on their faces, suspecting, I think, that I was going to announce that I was joking and snatch the plates away.  I wasn’t, and I didn’t.  They were thrilled beyond all reason at this tiny surprise.  Grace even told me recently that she had written a “whole page” in her journal at school about this, and I groaned at her that she wasn’t making me look very good in front of her teacher.

I get the same sense of awed pride when I asked Whit recently what his favorite part of spring break was.  He said, without hesitating, “Disney,” but then he went on, “but close after that, our trip to Walden.”  Or when, after a dinner full of rowdy, obnoxious bickering, they calm down, within minutes, when we go for a pajama-clad ‘notice things’ walk.  Furthermore, that they ask, over and over again, for these walks.

Or there’s the way that both kids have adopted the small sparrow that sleeps under the eave of our porch.  “Still,” they have named him, and each night they peer around the door, checking to make sure he’s there.  Still is less a pet figure than he is a reminder that if we pay attention and slow down – if we are still – the wild magic of the world at large can come to rest, for a moment, in our palm.

I know for sure that this is one of the things I most want to pass on to my children: the propensity for delight, the willingness to be amazed, an openness to the hugeness of small things.  Whether it’s a trait or an inclination I’m not sure; I don’t know that it matters.  I do know, however, that it is one way to assure a life full of joy.  That doesn’t mean there won’t be great sorrow, too.  As far as I can tell they are often twined entirely together.  If there’s one thing I want to do as a mother, it is to help Grace and Whit hold onto their capacity for wonder.

There is surely a reason why this is the subject to which I return over and over again: the wonder of ordinary life.  The wonder of that vast design, of which we sometimes glimpse the contours, though never the whole.  The wonder of human relationships, the sky, the turning of the seasons, poetry, the power contained in the light of a day.
The wonder of living in the slipstream of time, whose eddies are both utterly unique and totally universal.  That’s why I write, more than any other reason: to record my moments of wonder, both in their thunderous joy and their swelling sadness, and to bow in thanks to the small guides who showed me the way here.


{ 24 comments… read them below or add one }

Lindsey December 2, 2012 at 8:29 pm

What an honor to read my words here! Thank you so, so much for having me. xox


TKW December 3, 2012 at 9:41 am

Your words are welcome here any time. I was so thrilled to have you!


Heather December 2, 2012 at 9:00 pm

Lindsey this is beautiful. We are trying hard to focus on wonder around here too. My boys are delighted by the Christmas lights popping up around our neighborhood and during our drives to and from various practices. I love that my oldest son has stopped asking to go to Disney and instead wants to take a trip to the mountains. We are becoming more “stop and smell the roses” kinds of people (whenever we can) and I love it. Thank you so much for sharing this. Dana, thanks for bringing her over!


Devon December 2, 2012 at 9:14 pm

Beautifully articulated, Lindsey! As usual, you are an inspiration.


michelle December 2, 2012 at 9:32 pm

this is sweet and wonderful and a much needed reminder at this crazy time of year

thank you


michelle December 2, 2012 at 9:35 pm

this is beautiful and wonderful and much appreciated at this crazy time of year

thank you


Katybeth December 3, 2012 at 8:23 am

What a beautiful and precious picture of wonder your words paint. Cake for breakfast! Why Not!


TKW December 3, 2012 at 9:42 am


I am in complete agreement. Sometimes, you just need cake for breakfast. :)


Debbie December 3, 2012 at 10:08 am

Beautiful. I love your “notice things” walks and think we should all take them. Can I wear my pajamas?


philosophotarian December 3, 2012 at 10:51 am

I saw “guest post” and thought I’d probably skip but then I recognized the names “Grace and Whit” and was delighted to see one of my favorite bloggers hosted by another of my favorite bloggers. The world is good!


Cathy December 3, 2012 at 11:24 am

I truly enjoy seeing my blogging friends come and visit each others’ spaces. Makes me feel all warm and yummy inside.


Jennifer December 3, 2012 at 1:26 pm

Simply beautiful.


Kristen @ Motherese December 3, 2012 at 2:12 pm

I love this post and the reminders of this simple, difficult wisdom. Thanks to you both. xo


Tinne from Tantrums and Tomatoes December 3, 2012 at 2:38 pm

Wonder, that is why I love being a mother : you get to relive all the wonders of your own childhood.
Also kitch, about those pantyhose… just put on stay ups. SO much easier.


The Meaning of Me December 3, 2012 at 7:13 pm

Lindsey, I’ve enjoyed many of your posts on your blow and now this one as well. It took my daughter to teach me how to slow down and truly enjoy and experience the world around me. She stops for everything – a leaf, a snail, a flower, a sunset. I’m happy to say that I do, too, so much more than before she entered our lives. May these children always hold onto the ability to wonder in awe at the world around us all.

Thanks, TKW for inviting Lindsey!


Caitlin December 3, 2012 at 7:16 pm

beautiful.. especially the last paragraph. encourages me to write more :) thanks TKW and Lindsey for the inspiring post.


alisha December 3, 2012 at 8:16 pm

what an absolutely light-filled string of words! thank you for sharing them here, and thank you to your lovely host for having you.


Phoo-d December 3, 2012 at 8:58 pm

Absolutely lovely. I think we will need to introduce “notice things walks” around here!


idiosyncratic eye December 4, 2012 at 4:47 am

Moments of wonder indeed, I hope Still is with you all for a very l0ng time. :)


Biz December 4, 2012 at 11:28 am

I loved this guest post! Such a wonderful writer. :D


elizabeth December 4, 2012 at 8:25 pm

Curiosity is one of the most important things to cultivate at an early age–I’m convinced that’s how old souls are cultivated.

Nice to meet you Lindsey–I’ll have to check out your blog given TKW’s endorsement!


Contemporary Troubadour December 6, 2012 at 2:44 pm

So glad Kitch is hosting you — wonder is one of those things I forget to hang on to as an adult, and in this particular season, it’s a good reminder to renew that feeling wherever you can find it.


Arnebya December 7, 2012 at 7:34 am

It is difficult, sometimes, to stop and just be, see, enjoy. Your words remind me that there is wonder everywhere, that our children see it (and usually in deliciously different ways than we do.) I love finding out what the best part of an experience was for them, especially since it’s usually different for each child. For the boy, it’s typically still that he farted and everyone laughed but that’s not the point.


denise December 13, 2012 at 7:02 pm

So wonderful to read one of my favorites at one of my favorites. xoxo to you both


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