I am excited to share with you my second guest post by Rachel from Diapers, Dogs and Cooking in Heels. Her whimsical and honest style feels like you are reading a letter from an old friend. You are drawn into her life piece by piece, her journal like writing style creates clear images of her family, her hopes and dreams, her fears and her joys.
Ironically, I actually went to high school with Rachel. We had a circle of friends that overlapped and graduated together. But it wasn’t until recently that I felt like I really knew her. Over this last year, we have found one another through blogging. In fact, reading her blog for the first time was probably the longest “conversation” that she and I had ever had. I fell in love with a friend I never knew, and I think you will too.
A little bit about Rachel
The first thing you will notice about Rachel is her overwhelming love for her daughter. She is passionate about being a mother, and has a deep desire to build a lifetime of memories with her. Rachel’s writing takes everyday moments in their simplest form and makes them memorable. She is also a very brave writer. Recently, she wrote a staggering account of a recent miscarriage. An account that had me wanting to reach out and hold her hand across the miles. Her candor and lightheartedness make her blog very personal and easy to relate. I am constantly reminded of moments with my children that have passed, images and smells that I thought were long forgotten. Rachel looks at life through a photographer’s lens too, capturing smiles and frowns like fireflies on a warm summer night that flicker and dance before our eyes.
A Love Story
I love pajama time.
I love the idea that there are clothes that you put on when it’s time to shut out everything but the world inside your home. Closing the blinds to exclude everyone but those within these walls. The two that chose each other. The whirling dervish of giggles, tantrums and questions that is an outward expression of their love. The fur balls that may or may not love us (maybe they stay because we feed them and our bed is soft).
I love the way that my husband’s face softens when he shucks off his suit and his workday worries and dons an old T-shirt with soft stretchy pants so that he can get down on the floor with his daughter.
I love how my daughter’s diapered buns look as she tears around the house in her tiny cotton p.j.s trying to make Daddy laugh. Her little bare toes gripping the floor as she dances with glee every time it works.
I love how it feels to undo the button of my jeans. That moment when the cruel waistband releases me from another day of constantly sucking in my post-baby abs. I love the anticipation of pants with no button and only the merest whisper of a waistband. Pants that whisper ‘go ahead – sit like that. We won’t be in the way’.
I love the moments of relaxed love when we pile up together on the bed or the couch in a pajama clad mound of tangled limbs and shared breath. Those times when our bond of family means that we can’t bear to be farther than an eyelash apart.
I love the days when our pajama time spills over into the next morning. Days when our family is able to spend time together without outside obligations except maybe a breakfast taco or doughnut run. Days when we can all lay around with wacky morning hair and unbrushed teeth grazing rather than eating a formal meal. Singing silly songs and reading favorite stories until the rest of the world pokes it’s head in.
Lets face it – I love pajamas so much that I might marry them… you know, if they asked… no offense, husband mine, but pajamas are pretty special…
Visit Rachel at Diapers, Dogs and Cooking in Heels