capacity: part I

friends: definitely sat down to write more about me and motherhood. however, this. this is the story to be to told. here is part I. 


Let's start from the beginning. i was a wild one. 

I had over 1000 acres to run wild on my entire childhood. The cows, creeks, and fields were my bffs. Playgrounds - welllll. They are were where I effing got stitches or flung off and got to explain to my 4th grade teacher Ms Thomas - "my uncle decided to launch me into the space that is the Cheaha merry go round and my face now looks like this. thank you" (my mom did explain this also!).

I got real hurt. I pushed myself. I existed outside my parents' range of what my absolute drive was. They were very straight forward about life and even things such as paying for college. All so within my capacity. They were so truthful, they wanted the best for me, and I got to turn on my little personality and run with it.

gosh - it so reminds me of Steele. Capacity. He knew the scientific names of native California flowers when he was 2. I could not pronounce the Latin names (like let's be real!), but because babes learn second languages easily -our Yosemite botanist friend could intentionally tell him, and Steele would wander around shouting them. Steele could read you parts of the books he loved, shout sing his ABCs, tell you the National Park rules sign meanings. E'erbody better pick up that litter!

Capacity has a different meaning for me now. I sat down here to tell more about me but then I started thinking more about Steele within this word 'capacity'. Man, capacity. It can be jarring. Hi, you are 3 almost 4. Welcome to adulthood.