Tag: Mamalode

Parenting, Pregnancy

Rebirth

All good stories start with water. With a flow, a rush, a release. So did you.  You were made on the sea, in nights full of stars and gently rocking boats. You were made when laughter was simple, and music echoed through it all. 

Here is what I want you to know:

There will be laughter and music and light and love. And there will be storms and pests and trials and droughts. Nothing is perfect. Plans change. Life happens when you’re not looking. Read the rest here.

This story appears in Mamalode, where I earn a few nickels for every view.  Thanks for supporting my writing. talon in blue on the blackfoot shorebri and talon on blackfoot river in montana

mamalode article on pregnancy by brianna randall
Pregnancy

The Universal is the Most Personal

Kick and squirm. Jostle and poke. Nudge. Nudge. Hiccup. Flip.

Someone else is sharing my inner space: my breath, my blood, my body. He has his own routine, his own rhythm. He tickles and gulps and listens and sucks. I can’t see any of it with my eyes, but I can see all of it with my heart. He is my new best bud, my sidekick on errands around town, my dance partner, my silent confidant, my spooner who cuddles inside of me at night.

I am growing a person, a son. It feels like being in love for the first time—that rapturous certainty that no one else has felt this much joy or this much apprehension. It feels like those flying dreams when you leap off the ground to hover, sometimes soaring and sometimes plummeting. It feels like I have an entire universe orbiting behind my belly button.   Read more here.

This article appears in Mamalode.  Thanks for clicking over to read my story, as I get a few dimes per view.

—

Pregnancy abroad - living on a sailboat in the South Pacific islands. Brianna Randall On the Horizon Line travel blog.
Food and Drink, Pregnancy

Sour Cream and Onion Dip (I wish.)

A few days after peeing on a stick, I cringed when I realized that appeasing pregnancy cravings in Tonga would be like trying to sail a yacht down Montana’s Blackfoot River. In other words, I had a snowball’s chance in hell of fulfilling my food fantasies in this remote island nation.

Luckily, I’ve already had nine months of practice denying food cravings. When you’re floating 2,000 miles from the nearest grocery store in the middle of the biggest ocean on the planet, you become adept at mind control. At forcibly changing the subject in your subconscious. At ignoring vibrant images of sumptuous and delicious dishes that are well beyond reach.

Read the rest of this story on Mamalode here.  (Each click helps me earn a dime or two, so thanks!)

Turning into Tinker Bell
Ocean Tales

Turning Into Tinkerbell

I jumped in beside my sister, gasping as the sparkly green-white lights encircled my legs and torso. “I feel like Tinker Bell,” I exclaimed.

We shrieked our excitement, our voices as high-pitched as school girls. We reveled in making our breasts glow in the dark, and in the feel of the jet-black water. We were as bright and shiny as the diamond-sharp stars overhead, and as light as the bubbles of plankton that tickled our tummies.

“Your butt is glowing,” Cass informed me, as she followed me up the ladder out of the sea.

Click here to read the rest of this at Mamalode.com

Read more of Brianna’s Mamalode articles here.

Turning into Tinker Bell

brianna randall eating a mango - on the horizon line sailing
Community and Culture, Family and Friends

My Birthday Present From You

brianna randall eating a mango - on the horizon line sailing

Today’s my birthday.  33 years old, just after our 33-day Pacific passage.  I’m in paradise for my birthday, sailing to a tropical island to snorkel with sharks and gorging on mangoes (my favorite fruit) to celebrate.  I feel blessed.

I have only one wish for my birthday from readers: check out Mamalode.com today to read my published story about why Rob and I choose to find friends under age 12.  Other than that, the other items that top my birthday list are a bit more existential.

  1. Cuddling at night. It’s too hot to touch anyone.
  2. IPA, especially Blackfoot IPA. No alcohol onboard during our month-long passage.
  3. Dancing and headstands.
  4. Our sofa.
  5. Girlfriends.  And boyfriends.  And our family community.

Even though all I really need are mangoes, Rob, and a daily rainbow, here are the material things I miss most in the middle of the ocean:

  1. More cotton clothes. Polyester feels icky when it’s salty.
  2. Pictures of family and friends.
  3. Lightweight folding camp chair.
  4. A huge stash of dark chocolate.
  5. Strong tea and espresso.

While I’m at it, I’d like to give thanks for this list of my favorite things I brought with me:

  1. Pillow
  2. Yoga mat
  3. Guitar
  4. Face wipes (thanks, Mom!)
  5. Music

And for the things I left behind and won’t have to deal with in the upcoming year:

  1. To-do lists
  2. Socks and shoes
  3. Jeans
  4. Working
  5. Cold

 

 

 

Related Posts Plugin for WordPress, Blogger...