Monday, January 13, 2014

#boldbrilliantbeautifulyou

So buzzing around the blogosphere on Saturday I found this lovely blog by Carla small + friendly.

The post at the top is about living unapologetically. It really struck home.

It's so nice that people are impressed when they find you made the shirt you're wearing, or cooked a lovely meal or ________.  But when did it become de rigeur for us to apologize?!?! It's just terrible. We need not feel guilty for the things that we do in our life, especially the things that we are good at! 

And isn't it true that there's always a flip side? While I sew quite well and do love to knit - and seriously make one mean cheesecake (and let's not forget the quiche), I am completely rotten at organizing my home and a million other things. I live in a small home with no dedicated play-space for the kiddos, so I cringe every time the markers/watercolors/scissors/playdough come out. That's awful! If I want to feel guilty or embarrassed, there is plenty there without going into the things I should be proud of. 


I now unapologetically post pictures of our trip to Mt. Leconte this summer. It's something my step-mom has been doing for over 20 years, and I've been lucky enough to join the past two. 

I LEAVE MY CHILDREN for 3 days. 3 days!!! To the care of their father! Who lets them play in my makeup!  :) And it's wonderful for all of us each time. (See? I stink at sitting up straight - seriously need to work on that posture).

This is the night before the hike up to Leconte Lodge. We like taking pictures with wildlife when they're used to people and obliging enough to randomly lay down behind us. 


Part of the hike up. Just gorgeous and seeing a deer or two never hurts.


This is waiting for the sunset (that didn't really happen through the fog and clouds) the first night. My dear friend Adrienne and I after 5.5 miles straight. up. hill.   

Much love to you dear ones - practice living unapologetically. We'll get that bit wrong sometimes too - but the growing comes with the effort. 

S


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