It’s something I don’t say nearly enough. But I am. I’m proud of my three little ones for so many little things lately. For trying new things. For doing what someone else wants to do. For asking for help when it’s hard. For choosing to be kind. For acting out their new ideas. For expressing themselves well and making their point — even when the one they’re trying to convince is Mommy. For working hard. For helping out. For growing and learning and sticking together. For so many little things.
It’s picture day at school today, and even little girls wonder if their hair looks ok.
I’ve been writing these “letters” to my daughter (and my sons too) for a few weeks now, and I’m enjoying having a theme for my practice in painting and lettering. I started out showing the “pictures” to Baby Girl. Not every day, but as I remembered. And, now every so often, she asks me, “did you paint today?” It means a lot to me for her to know that I’m thinking about her and creating something for her. And, I’ve been able to show some to the boys and let them know, “this is for you — and Baby Girl.” They sometimes recognize the circumstances that prompted the messages, and sometimes they recognize them for what they are — just Mommy being crazy again. As I look inside at my own process, I realize that this is a treasured exercise. It can’t help but be intentional because I have to think about what to paint. Sometimes it’s spontaneous, and sometimes I’ve recognized in the thick of an experience or conversation with the children that a thought should become a “letter.” Some days, like today, have started more as a chore. Like all habits you’re trying to form, some days you begin just because you said you would or because some little soul might ask you about it later.
Today, I wanted to paint “I’m so glad God gave you to me.” Because I am. I’m eternally grateful. But I couldn’t paint it today because I’m so mindful that sometimes people long for the gift of children they don’t have. Sometimes, I imagine it’s hard to hear about daughters. Today, my gratitude for the exquisite privilege of being mother to these little loves is mixed with the burden of sorrow for friends who are working through the heartbreak of losing that opportunity. And this letter came to mind. It’s a letter of truth. Of my own experiences in different ways. And, a letter in waiting for a time one day when I’ll want to share it with my Baby Girl. When the story didn’t end in the way she’d hoped. When she’ll need to see for herself how a loving God draws near to the broken hearted.
Some great spring-like weather this weekend made for fun times playing outside. It’s sometimes a rare occasion when I’m able to get all three of my kiddos outside at the same time, and rarer still is the moment they are all playing in the same spot with the same things! On Sunday, the rarity occurred with all three playing with bikes of some kind in the same spot on the patio. The result was a small collision with Baby Girl’s leg caught between her seat and bike wheel on the concrete, and she has the big purple bruise to show for it today!
These days, Baby Girl (all three, really) will topple over something or plow through something and hit the floor, and it doesn’t take much to help her pop back up again ready for more play. I love her “full speed ahead” mindset and her tendency to take the big leap. But, I also know that as she gets older and discovers more of life, some falls won’t be as easy to get up from. Some of the wounds from those falls will be deeper than the tears she shed over a bicycle collision. Some will shake her and bruise her in the depth of her heart. I hope she keeps on taking the leaps. In spite of the falls. I hope she is always willing to plunge in, to speed into the challenges. And, I want her to know that I KNOW… she IS brave enough. She IS strong enough. She CAN get back up. And start again.
Hello & welcome! I’m Haley Montgomery, and I’m the designer and owner of Small Pond Graphics. I sometimes fancy myself a frog kisser— a documentarian coaxing poignant moments from unexpected places. This blog has evolved from those moments.
The small Pond FIELD GUIDE is part diary, part sketchbook, and part wish list – an archive of ordinary wonders. For years, this space has housed my stories – creative ideas, vintage inspiration, our forays into curious places, and the simple artifacts of quiet of conscious living. Through watercolor, photography, and illustrated tales, these pages uncover the blessing of ordinary days and the wonder found in authentic places and pursuits.
I invite you to open the boxes.
Peek into the drawers.
Rustle through the pages.
I’m honored to have you here.
© Haley Montgomery for Small Pond Graphics.
All rights reserved.
Sharing of photos and images from this site is acceptable, provided that proper crediting links are included. No downloadable content may be distributed without written permission. All art is a gift forward. Please support designers, creators and makers everywhere by respecting copyright ownership of creative property.
NEED A FROG KISSER?
Phone: 662.312.4001
Contact Haley to dive in