a letter to husband.

After this little conversation between S + me, I remembered that I had written him a blog letter. I intended to post said letter after my dear soon to be mom post a while back. We didn't have internet back then though, and let's just say there was a lot going on. 

So here's a letter for you, S, back when we were still two, before we were three...

Dear Soon to Be Dad,

Three or four months pregnant is ages ago. We'd just bought a car in Patagonia and took it car camping to Laguna Azul right outside Torres del Paine. A bitter cold yet winter windless day with a glass clear lake reflecting the Towers and Paine Massif. You snapped my first belly shots there, the ones we've laughed about the past couple months, because it really didn’t count as a belly. 

{laguna azul, torres del paine :: patagonia, chile :: 17 weeks pregnant}

We built a fire to cook our food and warm ourselves. We sat huddled around it and each other. My shoes nearly melted in the flame. The Cruz del Sur, an upside-down Orion and impossible worlds of light reflected in our eyes. A bifocal of stars and fire; una estrella fugaz. When the fire died down, we snuggled in the tent and watched a movie on your computer. Such backpacker decadence.

A handful of months later we took our last road trip to Estancia Lazo on another glowing day. We were completely alone apart from a corral of horses. Me in my loosest hiking pants and a bellaband to hold up those unbuttoned trousers. I snapped photos of you cowboying it up on the gas canister toro for turistas. We made what you called baby's (third or fourth?) baby summit. We picnicked in the strong sun--warm enough to kick off our shoes and enjoy some naked feet time.

Winter wasn't easy. The first trimester emotions and end of the world solitude. That cold, dark house. Then the lightening of the second trimester hit and we moved to a better, insulated-at-least-for-Patagonia house. I wouldn’t change any of it.

Being able to spend all that time together would have driven most people crazy. Maybe it did drive us a little mad too. But then I think of how soon our life will quicken and how we'll probably miss our quiet time. I'm thankful for every minute we've spent together, for your come-to-the-rescue pep talks, how you remind me to breathe. That you're my best friend and birth partner, soon to be dad of our soon to be born baby.

If I have to live through a whole year of winters, thank goodness I get to live them with you. We've reached 40 weeks of pregnancy together. We'll hold those little feet that have been kicking us soon. To say that you will be an amazing father is just words. We'll fall in love again as a threesome. Reflected in this person that we've created together.

We made a person: Really, how crazy is that?

Love,

Soon to be mom

{and, yeah, you are an excellent papa}

this hairy life.

Last day to enter the Shabby Apple dress giveaway! 

{hair embroidery by laura normandin}

I've just spent a ridiculous amount of time researching dresses using tresses. When I was about 10 years old or so, I would stay up late on Friday nights and watch 20/20 with my mom. Sometimes we'd watch it upstairs in her bedroom, moments I absolutely relished. One episode has stuck with me: an old woman who saved her hair for however many years to create a floor-length dress, complete with hat. Her dress was coffee-colored though the hair on her head (not the hat!) was now grey. I think about this lady--without fail--every time I shower.

{by kate kretz}

During pregnancy you basically stop shedding (shedding being a normal part of the hair growth cycle). About three months post-delivery when hormone levels level out, you start losing about a year's worth of hair--all at once. While it drives me batty enough all day long as I hourly unravel it from R's tiny fingers, the sheer quantity is most obvious in the shower. Nests of it. Surely enough to make a hat--and maybe some booties for the baby.

So every shower I think of this regal woman wearing her hair. And then I think: Is this going to become a blog post?

'Cuz that's kinda gross. But here it is, friends. I just couldn't resist. I'm obsessed. And while human hair collecting may be unsettling, we do use sheep hair for all kinds of things--so why not our own? I have to admit I nearly kept R's two baby dreds, which we cut a few weeks ago. (For the record, we do wash him, but he thrashes his head at night when he's rooting to eat; which started knotting his wispy locks. So the knots grew. Until we cut them out. Does that make me a bad mom?) I reckon S tossed the dreds out the window, though, because suddenly they were gone.

Do you secretly keep your old hair or the hair of someone you love?

how fast.

They say it happens fast; I'm prone to say that it's heartbreaking. Every day Serkan or I moan about how heavy Rowan is getting. Tonight I started weeding through pictures. And even if it's not heartbreaking in any traditional sense, it still chokes me up. I'm past that super weepy stage called the baby blues, though I'm not sure I'll ever have the same stamina against tears.

Digression: The baby blues are blue, but they aren't all sad. Sometimes those tears are a form of happiness. And mostly those tears bubbling up from the depth and yet out of nowhere are the body's way of healing and dealing with the trauma of labor and birth. Add a storm of hormones, caring for a tiny life (especially if the closest you've ever come to caring for babies is watching classmates take care of their baby egg in grade school), little sleep and (maybe) the near inability to walk or stand up straight, and yeah, of course there'll be tears.  For the first few weeks after Rowan was born, I couldn't see kids having fun without bawling. As we left the pediatrician's office after Rowan's first visit, school was just breaking. Little people walked hand in hand with their parents toward home, or else they skipped or looked up at their mommies talking about their day. I thought of how someday those little ones would be Rowan, and I couldn't stop crying. I was crying so much, I couldn't even try to explain why I was crying. We had to go for a longer drive so I could cry it out. And let's just paint a clearer picture. My face was wet, yes, but real boo-hoo bawling was impossible post op. Crying, laughing and just about everything else in this life requires lots of tummy muscle.

So, Rowan used to be small. His arms and legs spindly. Now his legs are just rolls of plump happiness.

{r's first full bath at home, 17 days old}

He had lots of hair. A few weeks ago I thought, Man, he's losing his hair. Then I thought maybe he's not losing it, just getting a little bald spot from where he thrashes his head from side to side when he wants to eat or needs to poop. Looking through photos proves he lost lots of his strawberry blond hair (no idea where the strawberry came from).

{asleep, he really looks like hubby}

I still can't get through the pictures of him before we met without tearing up. His mouth in a howl, his fingers in his eyes, and his legs stuck by his ears from trying to come out butt first breech. Baby wanted to eat! But dad was there to snap photos and hold him after his hospital bath.

{papa and a swollen rowan before i met him, 1 hour old}

Fast forward to tonight. Rowan and I are at home, spending our first night alone together since birth. Papa is doing some white water rafting for work, apparently in the snow. While I try to put Rowan to sleep next to me and look at him and at photos from two months ago (bugger is two and a half months old now), I can't believe how big his cheeks are or how many chins. I can't believe that his onesies used to swim on him and most don't even fit anymore. Even looking at a belly pic a couple days after his due date is laughable; it doesn't even look real.

{2 days after the due date, and 3 days before rowan}

Now his smiles are expansive. He cracks up when he sees himself in the mirror--as of today. He's laughing in his sleep as I type this. It doesn't make sense to cry at these developments, I know. But it's the part about it happening so fast. Everybody tells you how quickly it all passes; I feel this life whooshing by trailing its colorful streak, and yet... It just happens all too fast.

p.s. I do know what's missing. Recent photos of Rowan's pudginess. I'm behind with photo organization and just about everything else. Will have more recent pictures soon. In the meantime I'll be figuring out a good photo sharing method or reinstate my Flickr. Until then, I'm Facebooking it. Feel free to friend me.

dear soon to be mom.

Don’t worry too much about this labor deal. Even if it lasts three days, it’ll be over in a flash. You’re not crazy for trying to go natural. Your body, yes, was built for this birth thing. All you have to do is let it do. You know, shut that mind up; stop being so bossy and controlling. We control nothing in this universe. Perhaps just our decision to stop resisting it. Be present and let ourselves be in it. Don’t beat yourself up over not having learned this already. We all need little reminders, often.

It’s OK to say yes to help and ice cream. Breathe in fresh air. Bask in January's winter hot sun. It’s OK that you don’t have much of a plan for now. Your plans tend to change anyway. So just plan to make a plan when you can. 

{madrone by sheenjek}

You’ll get your stamina back and your body strong. You’ll have little time for naps, so enjoy them now. Those monster hiccups in the deep of your groin, that lengthening body and butt butting into your right-side ribs, knees poking out the left—you won’t feel any of that soon, so enjoy it now too. The mood swings and meltdowns are just more pregnancy annoyances to be accepted (and sometimes sincerely apologized for).

You are. Love—infinite, emanating. Not bottomless, because that implies a container. Not endless, because that motions a beginning. In your purest form, you are love. And love makes a good mama.

Love,

soon to be mom

on our california due date, two days past la fecha chilena 

what's been cookin'

If a space full of belly isn't your thing, this is definitely not the post for you. Even though I have been horribly disconnected since arriving back to the United States of "first-world" living, we have tried to make some time to continue our journey of belly shots.

Starting with a sunny cold day at the end of December.

{circa 36 weeks}

Then on to our tranquil New Year's Eve spent with my sweetheart and dear friend Claire. The dress I'm wearing is Black Halo, designed by my cousin's talented wife Laurel. A Pea in the Pod contacted them to transform a couple of their designs for maternity wear, and here I am, lucky recipient of this gorgeous dress, just in time!

{circa 37 weeks}

In other news, baby turned and is positioned head down and happily (I assume) in my pelvis. The birth center here extended my due date by two days to January 22. (Could be any day now!) Belly has dropped, contrary to how high it may still appear.

{circa 38 weeks}

S and I aim for hour-long, mildly hilly walks just about every day, though I'm getting more and more tired. Today's was a short walk to the coffee shop to steal some wifi time, the fruits of which are this blog entry and me browsing through this past month's photos.

{a summery 39 weeks : heather, can you look at me instead of your belly?}

After much apartment hunting, wearing ourselves down and actually applying for one apartment, we decided to stay at my aunt's house. Admittedly there have been times here I felt rather crazy and a little dumb for moving so late in pregnancy with nary a plan. Purposely making this time of transition even more transitive. But truly I feel entirely lucky to be here. The care we receive from the birth center is more attuned to what I wanted (and imagined for my birthing process), and of course the care from my family. You can't really argue against the benefits of a loving, supportive environment.

Thank you.

pussyfooting.

Sometimes the only place to start is from here. OK, it's the only place to start from, really, and the only place to arrive. But here is a tricky thing. And I’m utterly (let’s not say hopelessly) ill-prepared for it. If I tapped into my zen, I’d see that being where you are requires zero preparation. But oh dear friends, I’m not quite there yet.

{eva by malota}

Yet there’s no escaping; here I am. A long continent away from where I was only three weeks ago. Back “home” so to speak, some may even say back to where I started. But I’ve never been here before. Navigating the state of 37 weeks pregnant with my husband, who’s definitely never been here before either. Refiguring how to live in the States, while suddenly--so it seems to me now--becoming mother.

This week we’ll pack a bag for the hospital and wash some baby clothes. We’ll buy me a robe and an open-fronted nursing shirt or two. We’ll install baby’s car seat, and buy a cute mirror so we can see him in the rearview. We’ll take another birthing class at the birthing center. I’ll get my first-ever acupuncture in hopes that it will calm me: help me to arrive. To tell you the truth, it calms me just to write this down. One of blogging's more peaceful moments, and something I've been missing.

But what wakes me up at odd hours aside from constant peeing? Is what to do about the nest. We've been living with my auntie, convinced that we would have our own place set up before baby belted his first hello. When we left Patagonia, I couldn’t really start thinking about what we would do for housing upon arrival to California. First, we had to vacate our lives there, say our nos vemos, hasta prontos. Planning beyond that was just flying pigs to me. 

Now that we’re here, of course I want to nest. I want to figure out diapers and decorate space, unpack the baby items given us in Patagonia. To start our home together.  At the same time, I just don’t know if I have it in me to get everything we need for the baby and to shop for a bed for us, bookshelves, a dresser. Not to mention choosing an arbitrary location before we have jobs. And physically move the few boxes I have (which I can’t really help with) and decorate (which I might obsess over). And remember to breathe relaxingly for this natural birth thing? Be a mom to another human being, when I’m finding it difficult to even mother myself. 

{photo by dan;o)el}

Um, yeah, I know I can do this. But I could use a pep talk or a funny story. Something about a time when you jumped into the deep end only half able to swim... and survived.

happy holidays.

Right now I feel a little like swinging high till the chain loosens enough for my stomach to enter the heart of my throat before it plops back down again in a tightening creak. It all happens so fast. And then there's that feeling that you can do it over and over again. And if you're older and haven't swung in a while, you may find it's even good exercise.

{torres del paine swinging : by serkan yalin}

We are squaring away newborn insurance for next year and apartment hunting. It makes me squirmy, as I find sitting in some chairs for more than 20 minutes unbearable. Not to mention the actual apartment viewing part and the fact that my decision-making skills are shot. On the other hand, it's remarkable (even if I do say so myself) how many decisions we've made since we arrived. I'm so happy the seats in our new 1999 car are comfortable (and have seat warmers). I'm happy to take those wheels and reunite with long-time friends. To share Christmas with family, to breathe in the pine of my auntie's colorful Christmas tree. To return to little girls so grown up, to our growing family with my growing belly--knees kneading me from the inside and eyelids blinking between sleep.

I miss you, dear blog friends. Sending you light wishes and delight. That your transition into the new year be warm and love-filled, ever.

progress.

Not much has progressed since my last entry. Though, as of yesterday, we do have phones. We’ve started taking our (better late than never) birthing classes and found that baby is (still) butt breech. There’s time for him to turn, but he’s been like this for a while. Then there were a few of those days. You know the ones, where the car you just bought doesn’t work exactly as it should, and you’re driving a lot. You’re worried about where you’ll live and how long it will be till there’s income again. Knowing there’s a baby and a new mom soon, who only just changed her first diaper on a dolly on Saturday. And trying to let go and go with the flow. If mom’s stuck on the breech, how is baby supposed to get unstuck? 

{yogi tea wisdom : via fieldy}

Let’s just say the irony’s not lost on me. And all of this non-acceptance and mind wheeling mechanical worry has given me the first hives of my life and a wicked cold. Two days ago I thought the world was about to end—or that it never would. I’d been listening to the “advice” of other pregnant mothers who had weathered colds: It’ll pass. Tea. Soup broth. Tissues. It might take weeks; be patient. I started to imagine trying to labor in that condition, impossibly. I stayed in bed a day, while S cooked and mothered me as best he could. And I already feel better. The worst of it lasted only two days, though no over-rejoicing and jinxing my good fortune here. 

Then the pitter-patter of hiccups, which I swear resonate from the lower part of my womb… Maybe it's progression after all. 

dear friends.

Looks like I'm going to need more time on the international move front. Who knew it would be so much work? I thought I would have seen more people by now and be back caught up with emails and blogs.  They say the moodiness of the first trimester revisits in the third. And, while it certainly isn't as difficult as my first tri, I certainly burst into tears more than I would like. I thank my lucky stars and clouds for my loving, supportive family, and of course, my dear husband of infinite patience. During the day, autumn's colors do make me smile... if only the days lasted a little bit longer.

The good news is we have pretty much decided on the birth center. We start appointments there tomorrow and pick up the beginning of all the birthing classes we need to take on Thursday. In Natales we were sans classes (and a whole lot else)--an idea I had to get used to, but it's wonderful to have more options and better (+ holistic) care. We also figured out my health insurance. All those people with pre-existing conditions can get insurance now, a little something called Pre-Existing Conditions Insurance Plan. (I'm not going to get all political on you, but I'll just say this totally rocks and relieves many of my worries.) We also bought a car today, which will require lots more errands in the coming days.

So, slowly but surely, we're finding our way. Getting settled. Phones, S's social security card + driver's license, holidays, and maybe a baby shower to follow soon. Not to mention where to live and jobs.  Posting will continue to be sparse this week. In the meantime, thank you so much for your emails, kind words and welcome homes. Please bear with me. :)

creative space.

Between my "creative space" hormones, trying to fit our lives into four (now five) bags, cleaning house and finding homes for what we won't take with us, vacating the house and giving it back to the property owner, and saying farewell to people, I've had my hands full, my mind occupied and my fair share of cries. So, if I haven't responded to emails or popped in for a hi lately, that's why.

{circa 31 weeks}

Visit me over at Lady of the Arts today for her killer Around the World Series. Meet other bloggers from around the world through their interpretations of inside, outside, creative space and a wild card photo of of each blogger's choosing.

friday present: pegasus catapult.

This week stormed through the house and swept up all the pretty horses--light like feathers--impeding its path. It makes me think, maybe I really did ride a pegasus last night, dreaming. After this week's hectic, I'm so thankful for now's lull:

to be quiet... 

{photo by khalid almasoud}

Have you ever noticed how hungry just the mere act of thinking makes you? I used to work in a cubicle at a Silicon Valley internet company. I'd eat a bowl of cereal there, and even though my only activity was brain and finger-related, my stomach would start growling in no time. But then on the weekends--even though I physically moved around more--I could go all morning without eating and without feeling too hungry. I don't know if this has something to do with being alone or the amber waves of brain activity calming down. Maybe the extra energy came from not being exposed to florescent lighting's energy sap.

I do know that little things like talking eat up a lot of our energy. A couple years ago, I did a 10-day meditation in silence. We'd have lunch at 11 a.m. and in the afternoon around 5, we'd eat a piece of fruit and drink tea. I never felt ravenous hunger, until the last day when we broke the silence. That day we still meditated, but between meditations, we talked and got to know the people with whom we shared our rooms, the incredible experience. When evening tea time came around, we were famished.

My point: Sometimes simple conversation can wear you out. We've had nearly four despedidas in as many days. Saying farewell takes a lot of talking, or in my case these zombie days, a lot of listening to others talk. Who knew it would be such a drain? So yeah, right now I'm happy to be quiet.

to be reminded...
Permanence is life's comical side dish, like that plate of brussel sprouts at Thanksgiving that nobody really touches. I'm sure the fact that we're leaving and saying goodbye to all our friends here makes moving all the more exhausting. This week we sold the car, we sold our land in Patagonia, we sold the last of our mountaineering equipment, we packed two of our bags and set aside piles of things to give away. I've looked on as beautiful friends take away pieces of my clothing. Part of me lights up to see my wardrobe refreshed on a different body. Part of me misses my body. Agility, lightness, stamina. (I know I'm not supposed to say that, but I'm sure such moments happen to everybody. And this is about acceptance.)

I didn't expect to find myself astride a saddle of attachment. I've moved a lot, sold off all my belongings more times than I care to count. Although it may not sound like it here, I am thankful for this lesson of letting go. We do live a pretty transient, up-in-the-air life, but here that's still easy and more or less stable. Moving back to complicatedville is frightening, so it's good to practice a little let-go right now. The only really ever have control over our thoughts + actions. So I am reminded: Make the thoughts positive, act with compassion.

{photo by colton witt photography}

to find space...
As I get heavier, my life lightens. Every day for the past two weeks, we have gotten rid of some material thing. During this time, baby enjoyed a growth spurt and my belly, lots of oil slathering. I'm creating space.

to be loved...
Yesterday I guess I just needed to cry. During our dinner party. Um, yeah, thanks return of the hormone crazies. It was late, luckily we were at our home, and everybody was entertaining themselves. I snuck into the bedroom, feeling how tired kids must feel when the fussing and crying kicks in. With no real reason other than it's time to be quiet and rest. How many fights have we picked in our lives because we weren't listening to our own exhaustion-o-meter?

S came to the rescue, held me, pulled me together, reminded me I'm a space maker. Thank you for your patience, understanding, killer pep talks and strong hugs.

{photo by seyyed mostafa zamani}

to be...
Grateful to just be. That's all.

What are you thankful for today?

friday present: now.

We have bucket loads of decisions to make every day, the most important ones having to do with our outlook. We can choose to be thankful, appreciative, compassionate. Or we can choose to dwell on what ails us. Right now, for instance, I decide to dodge the darker hollow and head for lighter ground. With one moment's gratitude list. Right now I'm thankful for...

{via}

this moment. 
I have pregnancy nose big time. The dry weatherscape here dries me out even more, so it's a pretty bloody mess lately, crescendoing this week. Not being able to breathe through my nose properly is suffocating enough, and if I ride that wave of thought, it'll make me panicky and most certainly grumpy.

So this morning, just as I was rising to panic point, I let the wave pass. Focusing instead on all the good things about right now. Sparrows chirping, sudden flocks of ibis squealing overhead. Sun pouring through my window. A lapse in the neighborhood dogs barking. Warm inside while it's wickedly windy outside, clothes on the line so quick to dry. That if I calm + slow down, I can still drag a decent breath through my nose. That there's always the emergency back up of my mouth. I'm breathing for two. Our baby hiccuping inside. Sparrows.

What are you thankful for?

circling + yawning.

For the last two days, we've been running around madly. In circles + squares, practicing geometry. A little like this...

{donuts on the highway by vicki + chuck rogers}

And I have to say, growing a little person is tiring! I get cramps at random intervals walking (round ligament pain, no big deal) and have to slow it down. I spend most of the day looking for a bathroom or covering my big yawn of a mouth. (And right now at 25 weeks, baby yawns like a fiend right along with me!) My energy stores have been superb, but this city vibe is sapping me dry. Just feeling a little spent, and ready for Saturday's long lie in.

{"self-portrait" by hobit&gollum}

But, people have been lovely (not a normal occurrence here)! Even if I'm wearing my yet-baggy maternity hoodie and feel like I must not look pregnant, kind women offer up their seats to me on the metro. I haven't accepted yet--because we're normally just a stop or two away--but today might be a different story.

Looks like instead of leaving the city to site see in the hippie valleys, we'll be staying in one place. In between long naps (and maybe breakfast in bed: hint hint, dear husband), I'll be catching up on your blogs and working on translation projects.

{photo by anna gay}

I hope your weekend is filled with love + sunshine (even if it's raining outside)!

because changing plans is how we roll.

Today we head to Punta Arenas for a flight that leaves tomorrow at 5.30 in the morning. If you've been following for a while, you might remember me saying that I would never do such flights again, because it requires arriving to the airport via the latest bus and staying there for hours, watching movies on the computer, trying to nap or just plain waiting for the our flight to depart. Where we live, by the way, is three hours away from the airport by bus.

But as I started writing this down, I thought that's just crazy! So we changed our plans completely. (The plan was to drive to Punta Arenas, visit our three hospital choices to see where we'd want to have baby, go for an ultrasound (24+ weeks!), and leave our car at a lot to sell while we are errand hopping in Santiago.

{circa 24 weeks, s loves to make it look as big as he can}

New plan: Take the bus to Punta Arenas just in time for our doctor/ultrasound appointment, stay in a hostel there, and wake up butt early in the morning to head to the airport (like normal [read: not so vagabond-y] people who have a flight at that ungodly hour). I might need one of these alarm clocks Jen is giving away after all! Just writing about our more sensible plan makes me feel refreshed. On our way back from Santiago, we arrive just before 5 am, and then we will have to wait a few hours for the first bus to Natales and our own sweet bed. But it's only one way of absurdness, and at the end of the rainbow awaits... our bed!

{via the diversion project}

So, this is it! Santiago means lots of random appointments, maternity clothes shopping, warmth + sunshine + c'est la vie what comes with it--cough cough smog, and most of all--Serkan's visa interview at the American embassy. We will find out on October 13 if we're allowed into the States together. Send us happy thoughts!

Meanwhile, we've been doing a little daydreaming aka house hunting (within our meager means). First we were "dreaming" about really crappy foreclosed homes. Then we branched out a little and starting falling for lofts like this or single family homes like this. We aren't anywhere near actually thinking about buying a home right now. But if all goes well at the embassy, our next flight will be landing in the states within the next six months.

Are you in your dream home now? How did you find your current nest?

friday present: sweet vintage love nudges.

This week's dose of gratitude goes a little something like this. Thankful for...

streusel, 

{photo by elaine ashton}

First the word streusel throw me off a little. It sounds wet, like a drizzly goo. But it comes from the German verb streuen, meaning to scatter or sprinkle, (similar to English's strew). Contrary to its juicy name, struesel is more or less dry (with a healthy punch of sugar, butter and flour), and I think it's best with brown sugar. Real brown sugar--the kind you can "pack" down--is hard to come by here. But this week I found me some brown sugar, baby. So I can perfect my blueberry coffeecake with streusel topping, a recipe my dear friend Jen sent me a while back.

vintage clutches, 

{from YellowBirdd Vintage via From Skirts to Skillets}

And good luck! I won this giveaway from Lynzy at From Skirts to Skillets. A floral clutch with gold chain courtesy of YellowBirdd Vintage. I'm diggin' this floral affair dress too, though I won't be able to fit in anything like that for a while. Incidentally, Lynzy is having a closet sale right now. Get in on the action!

heart hangers,

{my love hanger preview : photo by serkan yalin}

Once upon a time Micaela from Dolce Vita posted about a love hanger art project that Kat at Fritzi Marie is hosting. A few nights later, I found myself on the floor collaging and stringing up pieces of my life. It's a simple, meditative project that, I think, helps us reunite with ourselves a little. For me, writing about my dangling vida took me a little deeper into the love hanger journey than its initial creation. Read more about Kat's inspiration and how you can enter your hanger here. (Note: Kat has extended the deadline for entering.)

a safe haven... 

{photo by melina souza}

For (sexy) trash. Yep. Garbage. Basura. It's a real problem here, compounded by several factors. 1a.) The city does not provide garbage collection bins. 1b.) All stores give out flimsy plastic bags in horrifying quantities. Almost everyone uses these leaky, holey bags as their trash receptacles come trash day. Some toss them out as-is on the curb; most try to hang them on fence posts or in trees. 2.) Street dogs are a real problem here. They're feral, they're hungry, garbage day is thanksgiving--twice a week. 3.) Patagonia is windy. Every place has a main character, and wind is ours. 100 km/h winds are summer's norm. End result: a bloody mess. Plastic bag flags more prevalent than the obligatory Chilean flag.

The trash situation here has always stressed me out, but not in our current place. Our tiny front patio area is gated, and comes complete with a raised metal basket to safely stow our trash. Whew.

+ baby belly. 

{circa 23 weeks}

Lots of kicks and nudges these days (sometimes, we can even see the squirmer through my clothes). Of the five sense, he can now hear and he's working on his sense of touch. When he pokes, I poke back. 

What are you thankful for right now?

friday present: from sunshine intentions to kicking + moaning.

This Saturday, which should be a Friday, I'm thankful and loving...

some sun! 

It's still crisp outside, of course, but the temperatures have crept up. Or I'm getting used to the chill coming off the antarctic. Or hormones are keeping me warm. One good thing about posting late, is that the rain of the last three days has subsided, and I'm lucky to write with sunshine warming my left cheek, in through the window. 

krusteaz pancake mix + real maple syrup.

{waffles by philosopher queen}

Some of the special things from Wisconsin that my dad sent included pure maple syrup + pancake mix. Every so often I make waffle batter from scratch, but it's never as light or fluffy as Krusteaz. And the last time I had maple syrup was the last time I visited the States. The morning after my springtime Christmas, I made some American-style blueberry pancakes. This morning I wanted to see how the fluffiness held up as waffles. Oh yes, it was like eating clouds with a crispy golden brown lining.

intention trees. 

{intention trees photo by mindy}

Today I came across this post from Mindy's Wish Studio blog about making fall intention trees: "a wonderful way to begin each season… to outline your goals and intentions for the months ahead." I've been a glue stick marauder of late, collaging cards into the wee hours. I'm hoping to get some girls together to create a little intention love for spring.

a bed for savasana. 

Part of being back and catching up is returning to a good yoga routine. When my yoga instructor returned (sunned and refreshed after taking a course on Tibetan singing bowls in Greece), I restarted yoga classes in the morning. I had always gone in the evenings, but nights here in the winter are too cold and dark. During savasana (the final relaxation), she's been making me a special bed, since I'm not supposed to lie on my back for more than three minutes at a time. Though somehow I end up on my back again every night, despite my better efforts. 

On Wednesdays and Fridays, this makeshift bed of a couple cushions and a couple blankets blesses me with 10 of the most comfortable minutes of my day. People often fall asleep and even snore during savasana. I've certainly fallen asleep before, but I never wanted to be one of the snorers! Yesterday morning, though, I woke myself up with a pretty prolonged moan. Yeah, Nice.

elbows to the gut.

{a rainy day, circa 21 weeks}

This week even the hubby was able to feel baby throwing some punches. I thought I might even be able to see the bugger thumpin' up a storm, but still no cigar. I know they say this is going to keep me awake at night later on, but for now it's nice to know all's well in his swimmy land.

What are you thankful for?

{unattributed photos : unknown : please let me know if they're yours}

20 weeks + so much love.

I'm not sure how we even made it through yesterday. so. so. so. tired. I decided no more 1 a.m. flights between the capital and our nearest (real) airport here. Basically getting to and from Santiago entails a three-hour bus ride to the Punta Arenas airport and then another 3.5 hour flight to Santiago. This isn't that bad, but when the flights leave and arrive in the wee hours, we have several hours to sit in the airport. Yesterday we arrived at 5 a.m., waited for the sun to rise and headed into Punta Arenas around 8 a.m. Normally we would have been awaiting our bus to take us home to Puerto Natales, but yesterday I'd scheduled baby check-up, because we would be in the area. Problem is, I couldn't see him till 4 p.m., and we essentially only slept 45 minutes the night before. Whew. I write this only to show one of the strangenesses of living in this faraway place. But, really, there is so much goodness I want to share! 

Today, baby is 20 weeks! 

{in all the madness, we forgot to take a belly pic today! 
so here is one from last week, it's already grown so much since then!}

Belly is blooming, as spring sprouts its first green buds under the sun and sudden rain shower blasts. Yesterday's check up went well. The doctor has been so good at making me feel more tranquila. Baby's heartbeat rushes at twice the speed of mine, and what a trip it is to listen in. This morning, hubby and I marveled at how I'm fueling blood enough for two hearts. Two hearts inside me drummin' to their own rhythms; wow.

Lots of errands, bill paying, phone calls, food shopping, unpacking and laundry washing later, it was time to open all the packages we picked up from the post office!  

{yes, that's a sasquatch postcard from my big foot friend ian}

I can't even tell you how much it felt like Christmas or a big birthday today! I don't remember the last time I opened so many presents at one go! Or begin to tell you how thankful I feel! These first two are from blog giveaways that I totally lucked out in winning. 

{mink pink tank from pretty pleased}

This is the Mink Pink Not So Useless Tank from a giveaway at Pretty Pleased. If you don't already follow the beautiful fashionista sisters from North Carolina, you need to pay them a visit! They have so much fun, I have been living vicariously through their warm-weather fashion photo shoots. Incidentally, they are hosting another awesome giveaway now. Check it out. Thank you, Mary Chris and Catherine!

{amazing handmade goodies from angie may handmade}

Next is Angie's beautiful clutch from Angie May Handmade. She filled this cute little clutch (which she says can be used for anything, from pictures to pencils) with more handmade awesomeness and other goodies! Two adorable hairpins, which I wore to the store today, a pretty sequined headband (something that I've been wanting since I no longer have to wear a wool hat out every single day) and a lovely bracelet--all handmade! She also added a perfectly sized mini journal and some buttons and ribbon so I can make my own creations. Angie's blog always calms me and makes me smile. She's positive, driven (learning Korean, just because!), and she puts her heart into each of her beautiful creations. (Visit her Etsy, and see for yourself!) Thank you, Angie!

Stay tuned for part two :)