i never imagined how much i'd remember about my own experience as a middle-schooler when my daughter reached this age. how much i'd recall the awkwardness i felt at 13, the misfitness, the deep desire for acceptance. how strange and uncomfortable i was in my body. how i had already lost faith in my own style. how sad i was. how rigid i thought the rules for being were. how much i locked away to follow them.

and now i get a do-over. as a mother of a child this age.

this weekend, a dozen 13 year old girls filled our yard, styled out in anthropologie-garden-vintage decor, for my daughter's birthday celebration. they came wearing their best and most original tutu-inspired outfits. some were frilly and ready for prom. some were funky-town original. all were feeling mighty fine and looking oh so fabulous. they epitomized the age they are living in. caught between youth and beyond and not afraid to be wildy free and embrace all the extremes. from eyeliner and fancy food, to trampoline madness. waltzing to old french music and leaping through the air for the photo shoot. each and every one of them was captured on film in all their glorious freedom and beauty. and i was able to behold what precious beautiful beings they are. i was able to gush to them, over and over, about their gorgeousness and how incredible they are. and the amazing thing is, i think they (mostly) believe it. 

a friend of mine said this morning that she has to continually monitor her response to her adolescent daughter's experiences. navigate the waters to differentiate what might be triggering her own wounding at that age from what is authentically happening for her child. so true this is. and what a gift! because in the experience of parenting a child this age, we as mothers get to relive it. heal those wounds and love our own younger selves into acceptance. sigh. it's just so rich.

the doorways to loving more and being happy are bountiful. and sometimes they are in our own backyards. saturday afternoon, my 13 year old self got a do-over. she danced, ate cake and whacked a pinata. she felt powerful and playful. she was set free.

and the 38 year old self got to embrace a blessed opportunity to celebrate my daughter and her friends. to create a space for them to feel alive and free. to offer them the container and the praise that i so wished i'd had all those years ago.

thirteen years ago today i became a mother. after a triumphant and transformative home birth, circled by wise and expert midwives, my daughter quietly entered the room. not a sound from her lips. i told her how much i loved her, welcomed her and brought her to my chest. she gazed right through me and slowly pinked up and found her way into her body. she remained quiet for the first couple of days, and on the mellow side for her first few months. that was no indication of who she would become.

iphone capture, taken on the beach during fire evacuation, may 2009

flock ¹  (flk)

today, i am most grateful to be a part of a community that gathers, rallies and feeds both souls and bellies amidst evacuations, sleeplessness, and a wall of flames visible above our homes. 

i realize that this is something i have always wanted and have struggled to find my way with. struggled to relax into my place in the formation. but these past few days, i felt it. held real life moments that captured how we are all living, feeding and traveling together. how my family and i are a part of a flock. and it felt really good.

now that we are back in our home, i am reflecting on all of this. on how while we may take turns leading the formation, we can solidly rest in the truth that we are not alone. 

and, since it is mother's day,  i cannot go without saying that i am beyond grateful to be a mama to two beautiful, smart and strong children who, though now are 9 & 12, will always be my little monkey-fishes. and free to take refuge under my wings whenever they need to.

and i am grateful to my own mother,  who always did her best to make me feel safe. this i know for sure.