three

creator

I create an art studio at my kitchen table. I create a moment of connection to nature in his room. I create bubbles in a bath, a mountain made of pillows quickly turned into a wrestling ring and endless construction zones for digging. I create a safe space on my lap where stubbed toes can be healed with a kiss and a rub, where questions like "what is life?" and "what is speechless?" can be answered. I create simple cookies that bring smiles and jumps for joy. I create a nest of a bed where he can be wrapped "like a burrito," snuggled, smiling, and surrounded by his closest friends. I create moments of breathing when the world seems too cruel and the emotions too much. I create a campsite, restaurant, doctor's office and repair garage with a simple invitation. I create concerts full of train, twinkle, and temple songs.  I create made-to-order lunches of endless mac n cheese. I create window washing games and weed-pulling sports. I create opportunities for him to prove himself to himself. I create his vocabulary and the little library by the side of his bed.

I create his world. Every day. 

These creations are not seen by anyone but me and him. There is no credit for or documentation of the creations that now consume my life. This work does not connect me to anyone outside of this little two person sphere. And sometimes that's lonely and exhausting and patience-trying and boring. 

But I am a world creator. He is worth it. And I hope it's enough. 

peace and motherhood

rrww

nothing new regarding social media

I just finished watching The Social Dilemma on Netflix and I would just like to add my testimony that it is true.

But in all seriousness, I've been trying to cut way back on my social media intake lately and I will tell you I feel like I've been freed. While my Facebook account has been basically obsolete for years, my Instagram usage was sky high at the beginning of the year. I'd find myself on that app for hours a day, coveting things I never knew I wanted, reading endless and mostly forgettable memes, and feeling despair and anxiety at the seemingly hopeless state of the world and the people in it. 

What a great way to spend your life, right?

After an especially consuming and depressing season on the gram, I and my husband knew I had to do something. I took the app off my phone and began my rehab. That might sound like a joke, but it's not. For days my fingers would automatically swipe twice to the right and hover over the empty space where the app used to be before I even knew what I was doing. I would sit and wonder what that especially appealing influencer was doing this weekend, or whether I was missing out on awesome shopping deals for things I didn't want but hey, what's the harm in just checking right? 

It was weeks before I stopped missing it. 

And instead I have sat and played in the sand more, been more aware of my son's point of view which point of view usually consists of garbage trucks, diggers, and airplanes. I've passed my reading goal for the year and enjoyed moments as they happened, rather than worrying about whether I got a photo. I've caught more of the nuances of a two year old, played a few more board games, and been more content with what I have. 

I haven't left completely. This documentary describes the usefulness of a tool that sits and waits for when you need it to accomplish a task - like a bike. It's there and helpful, but only when you need to use a bike. Social media can be this, but it's not designed to be so. Social media doesn't sit and wait for when you decide to use it. It reaches out with likes and pins and mentions and emails in order to get your attention at all times. 

I want to use it as the tool it can really be, which is why I followed the example of a cherished freshman roommate who only looks at social media on her computer. The apps are off our phones, and I have to make the conscious decision to type in the website to see its contents. At this point, I can catch up on new babies being born, friends celebrating various achievements, sisters running absurd distances, and brief checks on the influencers without the weight of it being carried around with me all day. My mind literally feels lighter. 

And if I ever do feel the strong desire to share something again, I do. I re-download the app, post my thing, and then delete the app off my phone again. 

This program presents quite dire circumstances due to the the manipulation and algorithms behind social media. It is well worth watching and considering how you use these apps, or how they are using you.

Thank you for coming to my TED Talk.

A moment I witnessed from the back window which I could have easily missed 

rrww

let's hear it for the blog

 

Around December of 2019 I was brought face to face with my hubris. My hard drive, with 10 years worth of photos, gave up the ghost. Me, being the combination of frugality from both the Frost and Weiler families, had turned my nose up at the idea of paying to store my photos online. In my mind, my little hard drive, dutifully named "HARRYPOTTER," would always be there for me. It was a blow to my ego, and I felt betrayed by a hobby that I had found so much joy and fulfillment in. Since that time, I have almost stopped taking photos altogether. What's the point in putting so much effort into documenting and organizing your memories if they can all just be gone in an instant? 

But then I remembered the blog. It's been warming this little web address on the internet for just shy of 10 years. And during my more dutiful years of blogging, had more than two posts each week. While I laugh and cringe at my younger documentation techniques, it has been a joy to relive memories I had forgotten, see pictures I thought were gone, and recognize the growth I've gone through.

I made a goal in my Sanvello app to start taking a few photos again. It's a major way that I've found creativity in my life. This week we went to Hebgen and that seemed like a great place to start again.

I often roll my eyes when the blog gets mentioned, laughing it off as an old hobby from a long ago time. But I'm so grateful for the time I took to document. Moral of the story? Let's all blog again. 

Or just back up your hard drive.

peace and the blogosphere

rrww

the best two years

To our golden boy.

love,
rrww

i'll miss you, i'll miss you not

Things we will not miss about Minnesota:
-snowpack on roads from December to April
-poorly timed traffic lights
-merging lanes shorter than our couch
-having to bag our own groceries

Things we will miss about Minnesota:
-strawberry/raspberry/apple picking
-parks on every other block
-ice skating on frozen lakes
-cheese curds
-excellent hospitals
-lakes and trails
-hearing the Minnesota accent while up north
-the people the people the people

I better stop before I convince myself to stay here. *gasp* If only we were moving in the middle of February. This state has the unsettling ability to replace gray with green and white with blue, making all residents forget winter ever even existed.

Just glad this little man is coming with me. Families should never be separated.

peace
rrww

one

My son turned one yesterday. 

One. 

The simplest and most basic number, and yet it holds innumerable memories, emotions, and events. 

Best one yet. 

peace and birthdays