Author: Lauren

Happiness

Posted on by Lauren

I bought this for myself a few years ago, when I was particularly down in the dumps about circumstances that were entirely out of my control.

Upon discovering it, I realized that no matter what what was going on, happiness was a choice. 

Sure I could take time to lament and mourn my very real losses; but even those that were suffering and gone before me would never have wanted me to continue living in that state of loss. 

It was my job to live the life they could not.  

I realized that it was my job to CHOOSE happiness.  

In the face of adversity, to overcome and make the best of what may be.

In the prospect of opportunity, to claim. 

To own this life they could not.  

It is ours to behold. 

If only we could just be happy today.  

Skittles

Posted on by Lauren

“Nobody knows how the story ends

Live the day, doing what you can

This is only where it began

Nobody knows how the story ends.”

And so goes the life of our Elizabeth. 

Little Lizzie had 10 vials of blood taken last week.  She’s still severely allergic to dairy, egg and peanut and FPIES (Food Protein Induced Entercolitis Syndrome) to rice, sweet potato, avocado, quinoa and beef.  

We have avoided soy, corn and wheat out of utmost caution for her severe eczema. 

Until tonight-

When she tried a skittle (corn syrup). 

I’ve had four children. 

Eating a skittle has never been a bigger deal. 

She called her big sister, Harper, specifically, in to witness the event. 

And she still wouldn’t chew- only lick. 

This month Elizabeth turns three and our journey continues- likely with a lot of food therapy in our future. 

Acceptance of new tastes and textures- trusting the foods she has always avoided.  

“Nobody knows how the story ends

Live the day, doing what you can

This is only where it began

Nobody knows how the story ends.”

“Nobody Knows” by The Lumineers

Here We Go

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She said, “I don’t want to grow up!”

And for the first time, she really meant it. 

Feeling the weight of the added responsibilities of being nine, she has decided that this whole aging thing: it’s not for her.  

I can’t say I blame her.  

I paused to behold her face; to mourn the loss of her rapidly-ending childhood innocence; simultaneously wondering just who this grown girl is going to become. 

“No one understands what it’s like to be me!” she lamented.  

Girlfriend, join the club.  

Welcome to the real world. 

It’s not for the faint of heart. 

And as much as I want to protect and shield her from it, I’m honored that I have the privilege to walk beside her as she learns to grapple with the truth of it all. 

Hold my hand, here we go!

Camille Vaughan Photography

Guarantee

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We want to freeze time. 

Even go back and relive with new eyes. 

But there’s a guarantee; 

And that is, 

Nothing ever stays the same.  

We evolve 

Or fester.

So, what’s it going to be?

My friend, Camille

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It’s because of you, 

That I see this the way that I do. 

Not just another annoying mess to clean up, 

But an insight into their creativity and creations. 

You asked, on very short notice, for permission to start taking photos inside our home, before our session. 

You wanted to record life, as is, not necessarily as I wanted it to be seen. 

And you promised me that one day, I would appreciate these details. 

The toys I would have long forgotten, strewn around the background. 

The nakedness of my children, refusing to get dressed for our family session. 

So when I spotted this plastic tea cup hidden behind a tissue box in my bathroom tonight, I smiled. 

Appreciating the imagination that must have gone into placing it there, rather than exclaiming my exasperation at the limitless mess of mothering four children. 

It’s because of you,

That I appreciate my children the way I do. 

And there will never be enough words to say thank you. 

Taryn Segelstrom Boyd

Identity

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Have you ever had an epiphany?

Perhaps you have but didn’t even realize that’s what it was.  

It goes something like this: 

You’ve been haunted by a sinking feeling, somewhere in the background.  It’s a whisper; not enough to take action, but there it is. 

Later, the whispers increase in volume and intensity- in other words, more evidence pointing to your initial feeling. 

And finally, the epiphany- the moment you connect the dots and recognize the intended message. 

Some epiphanies are wonderful- “So, this is love!”, “I’m ready/not ready to have a baby and I’m ok with that!”, etc. 

And some are downright terrifying- “I want a divorce.”, “I need to change my career entirely.”, etc. 

Recently, I had an epiphany and it all had to do with self-esteem or rather, my lack-thereof.  

Experiencing an epiphany feels much like floating above your entire life and witnessing it from space.  

Suddenly, everything is so clear.  

Why hadn’t I realized it all along?

I measure my self-worth largely by the way I perceive others feel about me. 

There it is.  

My Epiphany. 

The one I didn’t want to have but needed to have in order to take back control of my life. 

To stop valuing myself based on my perceived self-worth to others and instead (gasp!) . . . 

Be ME!  Free and wholly me!  Unapologetically!  Unabashedly!  Take me or leave me but still, here I will be.  

Epiphany: Scary

My Identity: Free.  

Camille Vaughan Photography

Snail Mail

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In the age of virtual learning and online shopping it seems, already, so archaic.  

Is that what also makes it so special?

Or is it just me?

The Written Word. 

The feel of paper. 

The emotion in handwriting. 

I received a letter today, just for letter’s sake. 

No holiday or event to celebrate. 

Just a letter for letter’s sake.  

And upon reading it, I felt like I had taken the freshest breath of air in a long time.

Normalcy.

Writing, just to write!

Touching base, just to check in. 

We’re busy people and letters are effort. 

But boy are they appreciated for that very reason. 

Snail Mail. 

Gone, but not forgotten. 

Momma

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She said, 

“Lauren, you have to protect yourself from you.”

And Lawd, I didn’t want to know what she meant, but of course I knew. 

She’s my mother, after all. 

Why is she almost, always right?

But she was and she is.

I just didn’t want to know it. 

But now I do. 

What powerful words. 

“Protect yourself from you.”

Amen Momma.