Joy is not meant to be a crumb
a list + a photo dump
Today felt like a true spring day.
There was no marine layer or cloud coverage, the sun rose early and the sky was a gorgeous cornflower blue. We did our usual thing: breakfast, Baby & Me at the library, nap, lunch and then made our way to the backyard. There was a slight breeze as we sat on the steps eating loquats out of a lime green plastic bowl.
Our loquat tree is overflowing with fruit, I make sure to pick the golden, orange ones that are slightly wrinkled — knowing those will be the sweetest. But, since I’m on the shorter side, sometimes I accidentally grab ones that are small, tart, not quite ripe and aren’t ready to be eaten.
E doesn’t care, she wants them all.
She must have one in each hand, sometimes four as she carries them like her dolls, holding the fruit tightly against her chest. She bites into them as I ask her repeatedly to wait for me to wash them. This sounds gross, but a lot of the fruit are covered in cobwebs — not that E cares or understands what a cobweb is. The juice dribbles down her tiny chin as she bites into the sweet flesh. She smiles.
We’ve taught her how to spit out the seeds and throw them into our compost. I still wait with baited breath every single time though, as she bites into the fruit and I can see 3 glistening, brown orbs — each a potential choking hazard. I sit beside her, washing each loquat in the bowl and hand one to her. She eats with urgency, as if I might steal them all. She takes a few nibbles and hands it back ready for an untouched one. I finish the half eaten loquats. Once again, I’d like to capture this on film — her tiny hands, her yellow blouse stained brown with loquat juice, me leaning up next to her. But, I don’t.
Tender / sweet moments from this week I hope I never forget
✿ I’ve been eating a tiny slice of cake every night. Carrot with a cream cheese frosting that I scrape half off and sprinkle with toasted pecans. It’s heavenly.
✿ E’s first play date. It was a potluck, and she ate refried beans and a ton of crema, Salvadoran style. She kicked around a big pink ball, saw squirrels and played with kiddos her own age — a dream!
✿ E holding onto a giant strawberry and dried bougainvillea petals the entire walk home from the farmers market. It’s a 10 minute walk. That’s dedication!
✿ How E likes to massage my feet when I’m rubbing it with lotion. As soon she notices I’m doing it, she makes a beeline and begins to pinch the flesh of the soles of my feet.
✿ The way the sun looks as it comes in through our bathroom window as it’s rising, golden, feels almost magical to witness.
✿ That day that E chose to turn back for a dandelion puff, ignoring her dad who was trying to coax her by walkign ahead, waving and saying bye (we were late to dinner). E yelled No! and made her way back to our neighbor’s house. As I broke one off, then the second, she whispered: bubble.
✿ This poem I read the day after Mother’s Day:
✿ Several times a week, I fall into complete overwhelm and on this particular morning after a crap night’s sleep, I had J sit with E so I could take a quick 5 minute shower, feeling like I was the worst mom in the world as I pulled out a wrinkled pair of pants to wear for that day — E climbed the stairs upon hearing me say (I’ll be downstairs in a minute!) and said, Mommy! as she toddled towards me. When I tell you I melted into a puddle right then and there. She’s never said it again. But it was just the thing to pull me out of the spiral.
✿ The hummingbird I saw this afternoon, flying near one of the succulents in our backyard, and I thought of Ruby. I truly believe she is reincarnated into every single, magical being that lingers long enough for me to notice them.
✿ Listening to Michelle Zauner read her memoir, Crying in H Mart (my first audiobook.) I teared up through the first two chapters and I’m sobbing halfway through Chapter 6: Dark Matter. Her voice makes it more human than my voice ever could because she had to live it and then chose to write about it, share it.
✿ The peonies that I’ve bought two weeks in a row. I love their vibrant fuschia hue, the unfurled petals are like frilly tutus in a Degas painting, floating upside down. For years I scoffed at the price, thinking they were too expensive for a small bundle of five stems. Nowadays, I dutifully place them in my shopping cart knowing that their presence alone brings our entire household so much joy.
✿ Helen Frankenthaler’s paintings.
✿ E sneaking bits of her snack — banana, raspberry, string cheese, waffle — and feeding it to Charlie. I’ve even caught her dancing, snack cup in hand, practically dangling from her fingers as crumbs of cornbread fall all over our rug and Charlie is right there, ready to hoover it all up.
Can I footnote a title? Credit to Mary Oliver’s beautiful poem which I first read when I was pregnant with E, and how I cried as soon as I finished it.
Don’t Hesitate
If you suddenly and unexpectedly feel joy,
don’t hesitate. Give in to it. There are plenty
of lives and whole towns destroyed or about
to be. We are not wise, and not very often
kind. And much can never be redeemed.
Still, life has some possibility left. Perhaps this
is its way of fighting back, that sometimes
something happens better than all the riches
or power in the world. It could be anything,
but very likely you notice it in the instant
when love begins. Anyway, that’s often the
case. Anyway, whatever it is, don’t be afraid
of its plenty. Joy is not made to be a crumb.
Being a mother is a simple beautiful powerful undertaking. You have captured that here. Also, ur photos are so sublime. Every time they make me feel something beautiful like hope and warmth x
Ah Joscelyne, i love this post! it feels like eating a full meal, my favorite kind of posts💜 i adore how sweet spring feels through your words, i took deep & slow breaths reading this, wanting to savor it. and how freaking SEXY to eat cake every night, i should be doing that hahah