5hyla 5hyla

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Shyla  lover of life. adventurer. photographer. addicted to wonder.


It's been 9 months since we moved to Singapore and this man right here has officially birthed his "baby". The Apple leadership team have worked their tails off and tomorrow is opening day. Us family got a sneak peek tonight, and it really is as magical as it was hyped up to be. Example: This staircase was made in Italy, disassembled, shipped and rebuilt for the store.
Well done, team, you deserve all the smiles and happy tears that have graced your faces in the past few days.😍

Pregnancy uniform. Because ....
#1. these Hips don't lie. What the heck is happening?! #2. Why wear stretchy pants when you can wear overalls and have NOTHING squeeze your belly.
#3. Birks are life... especially when you don't have to bend over to put them on.

So, yeah, you will probably see me in this until the crotch wears out from my thighs rubbing together 😂
Entering month 6 and babe is growing right along. #speadbump

When your husband decides to surprise you with a weekend away -- #glamping in Indonesia

I have learned a new dance… one whose steps are clunky, awkward, and contain a dissonance that often leave you wanting more…. expecting more…. begging even?
It is both joy and ache.
It is a dance you learn in a season of an infertility diagnosis.
During a season where you are trying to balance a deep seeded desire with the strange feeling that - perhaps - you are just whining about not getting what you want. Someone you know shares their exciting news and you celebrate, AND you cry. But those not-so-happy tears feel selfish. How do you allow yourself space for both/and? It is here that you realize celebration and mourning co-exist. And there is no resolution for it… you just allow it to be… and you learn the dance.

Then, by some holy magic, you are no longer forced to dance… you are given a swing.
The first few weeks are goofy grins, faces that hurt from smiling, teeth that are sensitive from the constant exposure to air, and respite for your aching dancing feet.  Then, you start to get sick from the constant swinging and, 18 weeks later, that sickness lingers. Again, you are grasping for that both/and space. You are oh so thankful for the little life and oh so dislike the act of growing said life. It’s a fickle feeling to live in a space of wanting something so deeply and then realizing how hard it actually is.  How, again, do you flow in both emotions?
the back and forth.
the both/and.
the swing.
Today, we celebrate 18 weeks of this little life by finding the perfect spot for this macrame swing made by Brent’s grandma…. and we also feel with each one of you who may be in the dancing season. Not every story ends with a swing, but every life deserves celebrating, and every pain deserves grieving. (ps) I’ve learned the steps if you need a dance partner.

Getting ready moments like this make my job easy peasy.

Because when someone you feel fiercely protective of gets married, and you know how adored they are by their beloved, you get all misty eyed editing their wedding photos.
This strapping young chap was the best man at our wedding and my LoverFace was the best man at his. To put it mildly, our loyalty and love for him runs deep. The first time we met Jess, I cried at how happy he was... so you can only imagine the emotions on their wedding day. To watch these two adore each other is a beauty that you feel, see, and touch. We love you Team Hale. #allhalethebrideandgroom

Just your typical random parade going by during brunch. These are actually quite common 'round these parts... and the drums and cymbals are so loud you halt conversation and just watch.

He LOVES to be outside.... unfortunately, the heat here makes his basking require monitoring. Multiple times a day he will ring the cow bell we hung for him (a bell toll is much more pleasant than barking) alerting us we wants to go outside. He finds the sunniest spot and basks .... and I always think he's gonna overheat. So, today, after he'd been out for almost an hour, I peeked to make sure we didn't bake on the sidewalk. (Dramatic? Maybe, but the heat here is other worldly) only, no Kaiu.
Did the rapture happen ?! Did my dog disenegrate into dust?
Oh. Nope. The gate was ajar - he escaped. (Yes, explicatives were muttered)

Long story short, he was found wandering the food court across the street (of course!) and taken to the pet shop on the corner. The employees at the shop knew us so they sent someone to our street to look for me. All is well, but this guy is a little stinker. I can't blame him honestly, but now he's being groomed (see all that hair in the foreground?!) and not complaining for the first time.... because he knows he's a stinker.

That's a wrap. Saturday I was the florist (@flowerchildhippywild and I kicked a$$, imho) , Sunday I was the photographer, Monday is travel back to Singapore day. Sicker than I've ever been in my life - I'm ready to sleep for the two weeks straight. Until summer, farewell 'Murcia. 👋🏼

How we roll. Public transit all day err'yday.
The Singapore government regulates cars on the road by requiring purchasers to obtain a permit for buying a car. Said permit costs the equivalent of 75k USD. Yup. 75,000 just for a piece of paper that grants you permission to purchase a car. This permit is only good for ONE car, is not financeable, and expires after 10 years.
So...yeah...we take public transit. 😉

Sara in the part of the country that makes her soul sing.

The Chinese word for tangerine sounds like Lucky and the word for orange sounds like Wealth... so it's customary to gift two oranges or tangerines as a symbol of prosperity. These were from our corner Dim Sum restaurant owner (that we frequent more than I'd like to admit). He doesn't even speak English. So these feel like a sweet gift for sure. :)

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