©2014 Jeremy Lai

The past thirteen weeks have been the most humbling weeks of my life.  I assume that the humbling has just begun, because you see... I am carrying a life. A life completely different from me.  A life full of unique possibilities and although it may share half of my DNA it has a unique voice that I cannot speak to.

We are calling 'it' Roo while we wait for the big ultrasound appointment coming up in about a month or so.  Names have been picked out but wait for delivery day to get used and for now Roo, because of Kangaroos ... and if anyone knows Winnie the Pooh, I need not explain.

Considering myself to be 'A Maker' this is about as 'Maker' as one can get.  This growing belly, heart beat inside of me, and purging my stomach of foods and smells I cannot stand.  This is the ultimate making.  I am a factory for life, dreams, hopes and personality.

This hasn't been easy, this morning sickness thing.  We mamas brave the storm of life and vomit in all sorts of places.  Cars, parking lots, garbage cans, toilets...other peoples toilets... we do what we can to stay hydrated and fed, but the truth is, it is the ultimate test.

Can you take care of your child's mother the way she deserves?

It would be so easy to skip the water and the meals... trust me,.... when you are vomiting daily...the concept of meals becomes a chore and for a fooide like me, well, utterly disappointing.

I have felt a little less than.

Sure, I get it, the hormones do that.  But the 'doer' and the 'maker' of me is yelling daily.  "Get up!  GO!  Do it all! Dance, write, sing, party, don't be slaking!"

I let it slip out a time or too.

"I am not making anything of worth right now!" 

A woman or two scowl in reply. 

"You are making a human being of major worth right now!"

And I slump back and realize that the purging of my stomach and the whole shift of my life is for the health and goodness for a tiny soul inside, and for me as well.  Because becoming a mama isn't a sentence for an artist.  It's a blessing. 

A child's eyes have the wonder every writer, painter, dancer, singer, musician needs and I will be drenched in it.  However this tiny life comes out, I will see life new and different because of it, and that will only make me better for it.

So I guess the morning routine of pee, vomit-in-garbage-can , and husband passes breakfast to slowly digest, is all worth it, and truly... how amazing is this growing belly?

I have been spending the summer months teaching a very special group of children.  A new batch come in every week but the feeling stays the same.  

Glee. 

I have one week of teaching left for this Season and I have learned three things:

1.  Creating a sense of wonder is worth it.

2. Staying present is essential.

3. Children can give or drain energy depending on your attitude.

Wonder is worth it because wonder is what creates a sense of hope.  When we have wonder over something, there is a part of our insides that jumps and grows.  Creating wonder for children isn't a hard task.  It happened when I decided to show up to the first day of work (albeit late after a car breakdown in a major intersection) dressed as a fairy and staying in character all week.  It happened when I chose to story tell after all little bodies were tucked in tight and small in a circle with sounds they echoed.  (Once Upon a time there was a girl who bumped into a tiger...ROAR...)  It happened when, after a busy day of learning they all fell on the blanket and with quiet voices talked about magical things.  It happened when fairy dust in the form of glitter was sprinkled over their heads as they wished.  It happened.

As adults we loose that sense of wonder so fast, but I found it.  It happened when I ate dinner on a beach as the sun was setting and the grey clouds swirled above us.  It happened when I tasted the most delicious chocolate peanut butter cup from a local café.  It happened when I stepped into a move with a dance partner that was the most in sync we have been in a long time.  It happened when I covered Little V's toes in a sandbox.

Staying present is what makes all of these things have meaning.  Children don't know how to worry past their next thought.  They may worry on a lost item, or something they just remembered they forgot to do, but mostly...they worry on nothing.  They are present in the moment.  And as one precious four year old who has been taking grammar classes said through a stall door "I didn't quite know it before, but I am going to take longer than I thought.  I need to poop."  and later again said, when asked to sit up.  "Obviously, I am very tired right now."  

How honest.

How true.

May I remember to communicate in a way that is real to the present. 

How is our attitude towards children? 

It is so easy to see how others can be drained by them.  They see "responsibility" "work" "annoyance". I see "freedom"  "play" and "learning".  The days I chose to look at my teaching job with the word "Job", I went home drained.  I went home craving a break.

The days I went to my teaching position with the word "Learning".  I learned.

I hope they did too.

But

I learned 

The most.

I am thankful to have experienced these wonderful life lessons this Summer. 

Amy Grace & Jasmine Alexander by Nicole Payzant Photography 

Jasmine Alexander and Amy Grace are adventure women.  They created a friendship out of the loose ends of life and all the bits in-between.  Each of them enjoy collaborating on projects together and both have a passion for the work they do.  

Jasmine and Amy have a history of being a tad goofy, while at the same time stopping mid-laugh to discuss deep and important issues.

Postal Dairies is the beginning of their time a part for the Summer of 2014.  Both artists have a lot going on, and yet both want to stay in touch.  Watch as they work through a new season of adventures, life and work. 

Since the beginning of 2014 I began writing two nights a week on a concept that has been simmering for a year.

 All writers need to protect their work and give it the space and time it needs but I hope to bring you all with me in the process of this story.  This is an attempt at a fictional look of light and dark.  What it means to be deceived, live a lie, and then learn to live the truth and tell it. 

To date, I have experienced five "Write Nights" and have been surprised by every turn these characters have taken.  I am continually amazed by how showing up to write brings this concept to a more vibrant place than I could have imagined. 

I look forward to sharing this experience with you. 

©2014 Jeremy Lai