...SEVEN

It's finally here. Seven. I have been a mother for seven years. We have been a family for seven years. And in that time we have stretched, ached, cried, rejoiced, explored, gone to new edges, grown apart, grown together...woven a new tapestry that is our lives. Meg taught us how to be parents, me how to be a mama. And over the last year I have shed the last of my maiden skin. I am mother.

Based on the theory of cell regeneration, humans replace every cell in their body on a seven year cycle. So gradually my body has shed those maiden cells to be replaced with new ones. Cells that only know the mother part of my life. And now together Meg and I will pass through a gate of complete renewal (give or take a few cells). We both stand on the precipice of a massive shift. Because while I am no longer a maiden, she is no longer a newborn baby. She no longer holds in her ??? Little body any of the cells that created her. All the splitting and multiplying and mysterious growth that happened in my mother womb is no longer part of her cellular structure. And I can see in her body, ego and spirit the struggle of this shift. The seven year change is massive...earth moving. And no wonder it's hard for parents to help their children through this shapeshifting transformation. We are in the middle of our own foundation shaking growth. Saying a final farewell to my maiden self and then with gut wrenching melancholy watching the child that created this shift move into her own renewal. Huge shit going down.

I have watched this shift occur with absolute fascination to many of sister/friends over the last year or so and I have seen and felt an incredible sense of comfort and ease surge into the lives of those mothers. Some of them having their second or third baby in conjunction with that seven year milestone. Thinking that mothering has become much more rich and manageable because of their "experience". And while i think this is also true I believe the bigger truth is that they are fully realized, full fledged, ready to soar, grown up, eagle mamas. Finally having wound their way out of that labrynth that they journeyed to in birth. Finally looking outward to see themselves reflected in their world and the life they have created. Finally having every last cell of their body oscilating at the same mama frequency.

It's kinda like having been in between to radio stations on the FM dial for the last seven years and gradually, over time and space...tuning in.

...food, glorious food.

Why when we holiday does it seem to completely revolve around food?  From the minute I step foot in the departure lounge I am thinking about food. Why didn't I pack food?  When will they feed me on the plane?  Will it be icky? Should I have ordered the vegetarian meal? I often get one last overpriced beverage or snack before boarding. Not being in control of my food intake on an 8 hour flight drives me a bit mental. I eat when I'm not hungry just cause I don't know when my next meal will be and no matter how bad it is I like to eat it all cause it's included in the price of my flight and not much else is these days. On a transatlantic flight the meal times are all out of whack and your body gets a bit messed up (not to mention that i try to avoid using the loo)... And this all before I have landed in my holiday destination.

Straight out of the arrivals gate I am scanning for my next fix. Coffee? A sandwich? A foreign snack from the news agent?  Once on the road my eyes are on the lookout for bakeries, grocery stores and roadside chippers. We don't make it too far down the road before we stop at a grocery store and buy the most random array of edible delights. Cheese, crisps, yogurt, a packet of Angel Delight and a jar of Branston Pickle. None of which fills the void of our immediate food needs.  

Perhaps it's about living the experience to the fullest. We have to eat anyway so why not make that part of the adventure? Indulge in things we can't get at home and try things we never otherwise would eat. Or maybe it's as simple as harbouring a lifelong obsession with food.  Yep. I think that's it. I love food. And I hate my relationship with it. But when I am on holiday the gloves are off and it feels less.....guilt laden. 

And now that we travel with wee ones the food factor only multiplies. We strive to find balance in feeding Meg while she watches us shamelessly out of balance ourselves. Is it really ok that she has eaten crisps as an appetizer to most meals this week?  Including breakfast?  And might I add that breakfast is a bowl of Frosties or a plate of maple pancakes? If I hear "I'm hungry" or "I'm thirsty" one more time today I might just go batty. We have tried, without success to teach Meg that travel and urgency do not go well together. Eat and pee when you have the chance not when you HAVE to. *sigh* This is only the end of the first week. 

And the only person almost completely unaffected by the food frenzy is Lola. And although she appears unscathed by it, her food situation adds yet another layer to my stress. Still not eating. I have let a lot of things go in my journey to feed Lola. I started out with all the highest standards of food selection. Organic, homemade, fresh, raw, whole fruit.  Soon the cooking and pureeing began. Then the homemade rule was abolished. Next to fall was organic. And now??? It doesn't have to be fruit, vegetable or any combination of. I don't care if she shoves a macaroni pie in her mouth. I've offered her yogurt, ice cream, fish, pickles, oatmeal...I think she even had a chip (french fry) in her hand here one day, but nothing makes it past her lips.  

So the battle continues. Today was all about food again. We ate a weird array of breakfast foods at the cottage, a strange assortment of snacks, a late lunch at a terrible restaurant in Inverness (I kept expecting Gordon Ramsay to walk through the door or find out I was on candid camera), then we spent the good part of an hour like kids in a candy store at Marks & Spencers (I wish I could upload the photos), we followed this with another meal out to try and make up for the earlier disaster....and now we are eating crisps and drinking cider, beer and stout. And tomorrow we will do it all again. 

Eat, drink and be merry...I guess. But mostly eat!      

...the hidden blog vault.

In the course of sorting out my telecommunication and internet situation here in the UK I have been forced to rely heavily on my iPhone and the limited wifi in the cottage (only available in the bedrooms and only when the couple next door decide to leave the router on). So I have resorted to the blogging app on my phone. Today I was scrolling through all the entries I had made and found several nearly finished but unpublished posts. They are time sensitive because they were written to mark milestones. I was so busy that I just never got back to them and probably figured it was just too late. But I read them again and...I think they are perfectly formed and complete just as they are. Likely really just missing the photos I planned to put with them. So over the course of the next little while I will release these little gems from the vault.

In the meantime we are freezing here. I could have worn gloves and a scarf today. Wish I had packed wooly hats and sweaters for the girls. But the cottage is cozy and tonight we are settled in to do laundry, watch some trashy British telly and eat some beans and sausage. A true Scottish evening in.

...a journey.

Well we are here. Back home. In the land of haggis and bagpipes (neither of which I have ever seen much of here). And it all feels very....mundane, domestic and, for lack of a better word, normal. I'm not sure why this is. It should feel exotic. It's been six years.

I don't feel that fluttery feeling in my chest at the sight of a castle or the incredible landscape. But I'm not here to connect with the history and beauty of this country. I don't even get the butterflies in my belly at the thought of seeing folks I haven't seen in years. It all feels very natural and as though no time at all has passed. But I'm not entirely here to reconnect with those people either.

I'm here to find my family. To settle in to a few solid weeks of soul nourishing adventure with the three people my life orbits around. To build a foundation of common experience that will soak into our bones and become part of who we are as a whole. It's unifying. To do things together that no one else will have in common with you. That is what I seek. That is what I am hungry for. And I felt it happening already as I arrived at the airport and was madly sending my last few texts before I was cut off for the next four weeks. I wasn't very engaged in the activity. My adventure had already begun and the pull to my family was much stronger than my tether to my life at home.

...fairies, pirates and cupcakes.

In a week from today we will be in Aberdeen, Scotland.  Our feet on the soil of a country we haven't visited since Meg was the age that Lola is now.  6 years.  Our lives bearing almost no resemblance to the life we lives back then.  We have lost, we have multiplied, we have moved, we have grown.  I wonder what it will all look like through these new eyes. 

But today we were totally present to our lives here.  We spent the day celebrating 7.  Meg will turn seven while we are away so we planned a little party for this afternoon and gathered our friends to enjoy a day in the beautiful summer air.  I hatched a plan to turn all of the little girls into fairies for the day and all of the little lads into pirates.  I sewed 17 pairs of fairy wings in purple, pink, turquoise and teal.  And 6 black eyepatches.  There were not that many kids total but I had a suspicion some lads would opt for fairy wings and maybe even some lassies for eyepatches.  I was dead right about the wings.  Three of the four boys donned the gathered tulle wings and "fluttered" around the park.  It was a lovely day with a beautiful breeze to give lift to those wings on their backs.  We smiled and laughed and ate... watched the joyful play of more than a dozen incredible kids.  My gratitude as I soak up the last of this day runs deep.  Friends and family that love my children, our family and celebrate our lives every day with us.  Bliss. 

I'm pooped.  And I have much to do before we board that plan next week.  Here are some images from the day... I believe they tell the story better than I could with words.