Just a spoonful

just a spoonful one Dear Reader,

I think of you a lot. I think of what you are doing and how you are feeling. I think of how you came to this little space on the web and decided to stay. [I am really glad you did]

But more than all of that, I think of all the things I want to tell you, the ways I want to encourage you and hug you and lift you up. And it can leave me a little frazzled.

All these thought bubbles in my head and nowhere to put them.

So, I am thinking I'll start with just a spoonful.

You see, I want you to know about this recipe I served for guests, that actually worked, that I think you might enjoy eating and sharing too. I want to talk about what happens when we break bread around the table.

[Chances are, most recipes I share, you'll be able to eat with a spoon]

I want to tell you about this man I met while waiting for my car to be fixed and what he taught me.

I want to share what I am learning about life and love. About how hard and good loving another human fully is. About how waking up early on Tuesdays and sharing coffee with him isn't really about coffee. It's about setting aside space to love the people you hold dear, really well.

I want to push you and me to dream more, dream when we feel stuck and purposeless and completely confused.

I want to recognize when things are hard and messy. I want to celebrate how strong we really are, how there is a fire burning in our hearts - it is alive and well.

Sometimes, we just need someone to remind us that it's there.

And while I try to do all those things on my blog it just doesn't feel like enough. I'm beginning to wonder if it's less about words and more about showing up.

That's what I want to do. Show up as best I can, with all that I am.

We might not know each other. Or you might be one of my dearest, closest friends. For this, it doesn't really matter. I am promising each one of you the same thing.

Just a spoonful.

So, here's the deal. If you comment below with your email, an email from me, will come directly to you, once a week. [At least, that is my hope]

You might be wondering...how is this different than your blog? Great question.

They're sort of the same but sort of different.

These emails will be short and sweet and to the point. They'll be right in the moment. They'll be honest and real.

They might be a few words of encouragement or a challenge or recipe.

They might be completely random and silly, like requesting you to have a dance party in your kitchen - TONIGHT. [Side note, we did that last weekend. It was awesome. HIGHLY recommend throwing a dance party in the kitchen]

You might also be wondering...if I am already subscribed to your blog will these just come to my inbox already? 

Sadly, no.

While each email might be different. Each one will be, you guessed it, just a spoonful.

Comment below so I can snag your email and we'll be spooning. [That's not really true. I just couldn't hold back a good spoon joke.]

...Are spoon jokes even a thing?

Mmk. That's all.



p.s. The first email might include a recipe for ice cream....made from frozen bananas. That means you can eat all you want and not feel bad about it. Just sayin'....

Dear Mom,

Lauren Gay Photography I started this post late Tuesday night with hopes of publishing first thing Wednesday morning.  And now it's Thursday.


But with my head spinning over the fact that my sweet sister, your dear daughter, became a mother, I just couldn't get my words to fall into place.

Plus it was 10:30pm and I was slowly turning into a pumpkin.

So I didn't finish these words on your birthday.  But, who cares?  Lets celebrate all week. You deserve it.

It's hard to sum you up Momma.  It's hard to pinpoint all the many parts that make you brave and bold and loving.  Because here's the thing, you're an all the time, tell it like it is, hug ya when you need it, powerful woman.

You're one of the few people who can read me.  You know when I am actually completely terrified while I pretend to be cool as a cucumber.

You know full well I'm lying through my teeth on the phone when I say, "Yes Mom, I'm fine".  When Lord knows I'm not.

You're always the first one to call or text or apologize when we've had conflict.

I can be so prideful.  But you?  You just forget about keeping score or who was right or wrong. You just love and forgive and let go.

So much of who I am is because of you.  How do I know?

I struggle to arrive anywhere empty handed.  Be it a plant, cookie tray, or bottle of wine, I need something, anything, to show folks I am so touched to be in their home.

Because you always insisted we bring something.

I  believe a good ol' fashion thank you card never goes out of style.   I can hear your voice ringing in my ear, "Maeve, did you call so and so for that sweet gift?  Did you write them a card?"

I ache to be a good neighbor and friend, even when it might feel awkward or inconvenient.

You're the first person to bring a loaf of bread to a new family that moved in down the street.  You call and stop by when a family has lost someone really important to them.  You check up on the elderly neighbor who lives alone in case they need something.  You invite the neighbors kids over for a swim in the pool.  You babysit your daughters friends kids.

I believe, with all my heart and soul, that all we are and do and believe starts in the home.

You made sure we always ate dinner together as a family.  Even when life was crazy. Even when you and Dad worked full-time jobs and grandma moved in and Jess played field hockey and I played..cheerleading.  Our table was a sacred place.  And that could never be broken.

I believe marriage is hard work.  I know it's something you have to fight for, each and every day.  You've shown me it's about taking a leap of faith and choosing commitment.  It's about standing next to your man when he becomes choked up giving a speech.  It's about always giving each other a kiss when you leave for work. It's about choosing to talk at the dinner table, not read the newspaper, when the kids go away to college.

I also know when a really good song comes on you get up and dance - immediately.

Lauren Gay Photography

I'm constantly in awe of you mom.  Constantly inspired by your love and gratitude and generosity.

I know life has changed drastically.  I know it must feel strange to retire, to see your two little girls all grown up, to see your oldest daughter become a mother too.

But I am so excited for you.

I'm excited to see how you grow and dream and love, even more deeply.  I'm so excited to laugh and dance and sit around the table with you.

Cheers to your life, in all it's beauty and change, in all it's grand adventure, unfolding bit by bit, moment by moment.

Happy [belated] Birthday sweet mother.

I love you dearly.

-your daughter