This, a Yearbook

Reaching one-thousand posts, although I know in the scheme of things isn't anything major, has piqued my curiouity enough to want to delve curser first into the retrospection of my several hundred captured moments. Seeking, in a way, guidance toward I don't know what. Direction through rear-view mirrorship is something I often find myself seeking, if only to bring me back to the knowledge that now is where all the action is.

Still, one post by one I've gone through the past five years wincing and cringing and wanting to punch myself in the face. But after the initial embarrassment, I found myself amazed by how much changed. In my tone and voice and especially happiness. Slowwwwwwwwwwlllllly but still totally wow.

We're so afraid of thinking small - pushing ourselves instead toward lottery jackpots and drastic measures for change when on a personal level, it seems to me that time means more to happiness than anything. Every day we become a little more interesting. A little more balanced. A little more successful in our ability to understand and know and care and love and come to conclusions about things.

Like gardens and how you can't tell how fast they've grown until you return from vacation.
We're all of us growing up. And every day we challenge and accept what that means. And many days I've come here to write about it. And that has given me the ability to push forward (or at the very least reflect backward). Close my computer and go back to what it means to feel alive: living amongst exclamation points, question marks and the occasional dot-dot-dot...

When I started this blog in October of 2005, I struggled with what it meant to have a family. To be a sudden wife and instant mother - to change, sometimes not, redefine, become, sail on.
So many of the things that once scared me have left me unafraid.

And it's all here in the pages of what has become a sort of yearbook. Have a bitchin' summer. Class of 2010 rules.

GGC

17 comments:

Anna | 12:34 PM

I love the line about time helping us to push (slowly) toward becoming better and more interesting people. So very true. And while we might cringe at things we said once, it's that person who said them who became who we are now. Wise words. Thanks.

Junket | 2:54 PM

You just made me think of everything in my life that has happened from 2005 until now. I can't get the slow montage out of my head. I better come up with a theme song.

Anonymous | 6:20 PM

For the most part, you're an ok chick, but those sunglasses, OMG they look soooooooooo stupid! Girls, PLEASE STOP with the bug-eyes! 1976 is long over with! My boss wears them when we leave work each day and it's seriously a struggle not to laugh in her face... and she's a young, stylish, doctor. OMG!!!!!!!!!!!!

Michelle | 6:37 PM

I will never understand why people take time out of their day to leave a comment like the one above?! You look lovely and happy and it shows in every single picture of you and your family. This is indeed one amazing yearbook for you and your children to look back on. Inspiring as usual.

spicylikeginger | 9:24 PM

Rebecca, you are brave for showing the world your life. I'm just glad that most people who leave comments are polite, and also show a bit of their identity. It was so nice to see all of you in lovely candid shots. My compliments to the photographer. And you go ahead and wear those sunglasses, lady. I think they look cute on you.

Ray | 9:54 PM

First off: Such gorgeous photos of a beautiful family. <3

Secondly:

"We're so afraid of thinking small - pushing ourselves instead toward lottery jackpots and drastic measures for change when on a personal level, it seems to me that time means more to happiness than anything."

You hit it right on the nail with that. Though I still think about playing the lottery. =P

Third:
I can't wait to read on. May the summer of 2010 rock for your family. I only wish I had been reading for the whole five years. I have to get your book!

melanirae | 12:25 AM

It's not very nice to hate on someones style anon. You guys look radiant.
I always cringe when I read anything from my past. I actually use to destroy old diaries! I sooo regret that now. But, I keep I on writing. Cuz that's what writers do :)

melanirae | 12:42 AM

I just realized, I have been reading your blog almost since you began. I emigrated in November 2005 and found you right after. Of all the blogs I started reading that year, yours is the only one I still read. :)

mummybee | 1:39 AM

i love your blog! always read it.
it's winter here, but i'd love to know where you got your t-shirt?!(please don't say thirft shop, please don't say thrift shop)

88highburycorner | 3:08 AM

You are so right now is where the action is, its such a hard thing to remember sometimes when life becomes so fast and we try to push certain things forward quickly or reflect too much on the past. You are a great writer, thank you for sharing your experiences.

JZ | 6:27 AM

Yes, we need to know the origins of your t-shirt immediately. I binged "awesome sailboat printed tshirt" and found a bunch of bedazzled numbers that grandma would've loved. Also, just got your book and I am excited to read it.

The Empress | 6:27 AM

Oh, that post was so stinkin' cute.

You are so right, and you word things so well.

It is all perspective: we can become more interesting every year.

I think that the way we see ourselves affects the way we write. If we think we do become more multi layered as time goes on, then so will our writing.

I enjoyed this post. Thank you.

kelly | 7:36 AM

I just recently came across your blog but I *love* it! As a mother of two young kiddies myself I can relate to everything you write about: be yourself, maintain your style, have a career, and love, cuddle, smooch and play with your family.

You're an inspiration to me and I just think you're the bees knees. Thanks for sharing your story with all of us!

EMQ | 8:21 PM

Man, thanks for the post. The idea of slow progress over a long period of time was a concept about which I needed a serious bout of reminding. Thank you. Thank your lovely brave blog that has once again helped me stop, breath, and appreciate. You totally rock.

bambooska | 1:31 PM

Dude, your husband is Daughtry.

GIRL'S GONE CHILD | 8:55 PM

Thank you for your kind words. I like my sunglasses but it's cool if you don't, anon. Shirt is from anthropologie (weird, right?) =

http://www.anthropologie.com/anthro/catalog/productdetail.jsp?id=18159590&catId=CLOTHES-KNITSTEES&pushId=CLOTHES-KNITSTEES&popId=CLOTHES-KNITSTEES&sortProperties=&navCount=95&navAction=top&fromCategoryPage=true&selectedProductSize=&selectedProductSize1=&color=049&colorName=BLUE%20MOTIF&isProduct=true&isBigImage=&templateType=&subCategoryId=CLOTHES-KNITSTEES-STRIPE

xoxoxo

Anonymous | 9:18 PM

GORGEOUS! You have such a pretty life and an amazing family. Much love.

P.s. You are much stronger than me, I've been catching up on your blog (I just discovered it) and I'm amazed that you don't delete the one Bitter Betty's comments. It is so sad that she/he has been obsessively commenting on your blog for so long. She/he should use some of her energy for positive comments and I hate how she uses the word "hubby". What a child. She should grow up and stop commenting on your blog if it brings her so much grief. You are clearly smart and amazing with lots of happiness.