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I love me some Friday night tired.  It's the content warm tingling of an exhausted body, having completed a full week of work, child rearing, good wifing and healthy "ish" living.  As with all good Friday nights, I'm still stuck in my work clothes because I've spent the night not worrying about schedules and routines, instead indulging each family member with time.  Time to recap the week, catch up on the drama, plan the weekend.  I don't cook on Friday's, we grab and sit in shifts, so that each person gets their own time with each parent.  Some of us eat, while the other's play cards.  Some play cards while one of us gives Liam a bath.  Fridays are a free for all love fest with no rules about what you eat, when you eat it or where.

On a weeknight, I enforce a fairly rigid schedule of chores, homework, dinner time and bedtime.  There is always a smattering of dance parties and orange soda happy hours because all work and no play makes momma freak out a little. But every night at the exact same time the kids heads hit the pillow...I turn into a pumpkin.

A couch pumpkin.

But on Fridays, I'm in it until the end baby.  Did you know that "the end" of a Friday night is 11pm?  True story.  For me it is anyway and if I make it that long, I fee kind of like a rock star.  Sometimes I worry I'm making my kids super lame.  My 15 year old daughter just woke up from a half hour nap on the floor to tell me she is going to bed.  15 and turning in at 10pm on a Friday night.  Does that mean I'm doing a good job?  Or a terrible job?

2.6.12

I cannot prove this, but I know Liam lays in his toddler bed, waiting to hear the sound of my ass hitting the pleather of my office chair.  Waiting for the sound of fingers being gingerly placed on the keyboard and for the deep cleansing breathe his momma takes at the end of the day, when she thinks she has some time to her self to write, or edit photos, or blog stalk.  Or maybe have a good laugh at Damn You Auto Correct.  Or a good cry in front her her computer so that she can blame it on something there, but really just cuz she needs a good cry.

He waits and when he hears any combination of these things, he gets sick.  BAM.  And stays sick for days, irritable & adorably pathetic, needy and cuddly, demanding and helpless against his booger nose.  And this guarantees my undivided attention day and night, I'm locked in.

This phenomenon is the reason I cannot piece together a blog more than once a week if that.  I have dozens of one paragraph blogs, all begun in a sincere moment of inspiration to write, to share something, interrupted by the crocodile tears of a my little prince.

His little voice breaks me down to the very core.  When he looks at me and uses his new big boy words he gazes into my eyes.  He is like his dad that way, always flirting, always looking into you, never just at you.

"Momma sleepa Liam?"
"Come on momma...follow me follow me!"
"One more book?"

And when I give in and climb into his narrow twin bed with him, suffering the panda pillow pet as my only option, he touches my face and confirms "Momma sleepa Liam?"

"Yes baby, momma will sleep with Liam."

He touches my face, tracing my eyes and nose, whispering what he knows "eyes...nose...cheeks...boca".  Almost without exception, he puts me to sleep with his face tickles.

And this is why my blogs are so few and far between these days.  I thought you should know.

::

I have never felt like I had to go out looking for inspiration for my writing or photography.  I don't do either as a source of income, just for creative therapy which allows me a lot of room to move in.  I'm accountable to no one and if suddenly no one read this blog, I'd still write it.

With that big a playground to play in, virtually no rules about how and why I do this, it's easy to do.  Inspiration is automatic, just write what I want.

But you should never ignore inspiration when it kisses you right on the mouth.  That would be rude.

I was gifted inspiration once before and it about sent me into orbit.  I've been gifted inspiration again.

I love this book, this journal.  I want to carry it around with me at all times and live the life that I imagine as I fill in the blanks.  So I have been.

I'm going to tackle each unfinished answer here as well.  One by one, on no particular timeline with no particular agenda.

I'm feeling like stretching myself, exploring and learning something new about myself.  I'm feeling like growing and moving towards something.

::

I made the cake.  I'm making a lot of cakes lately because of a cake plate we found at a thrift store.  It's perfect and begs for a cake.  See...inspiration.

I did not make the lovely pot holder, but I want it.

I did drink the wine and the beer.

There is that Superman t-shirt again.  Heaven help us when he outgrows it.

We got snow!  It was short lived, but it allowed Liam the chance to wear his new snow pants and boots.  Wouldn't you know it, the first year I've EVER had my poop in a group enough to have everyone geared up for winter before it starts, and it doesn't start.  Unbelievable.

But for one day, I had some snow babies.

I needed there to be some kind of cold snap, some kind of warm cozy snowed in day.  I was pouty about the non winter winter.  I guess this will have to do.  At least I got pictures.  And now spring can come.

::

We've given the girls a choice:

Quinceanera

Sweet 16

Autumn chose Quinceanera - (lit. meaning One (f.) who is fifteen), sometimes called "Fiesta de quince años", "Fiesta de Quinceañera", "Quince años" or simply "quince", is the celebration of a girl's fifteenth birthday in parts of Latin America and elsewhere in communities of people from Latin America. This birthday is celebrated differently from any other birthday, as it marks the transition from childhoodto young womanhood.^[1] The celebration, however, varies significantly across countries, with celebrations in some countries taking on, for example, more religious overtones than in others.

Good thing they can vary because her's is a Japanese flavored quinceanera lacking entirely in religious overtones.

I am so very excited for this party.  It's all her, I'm just here to make sure it all comes together for her.  It's Japanese food and language,  anime and cosplay and of course...the Anime Detour. It's a weekend party in Minneapolis, it could be no other place with no other people.

The invitations are done, complete with origami crane gift from the birthday girl herself.

I am so very excited for this party.

Back to the book...or rather the journal.  Feel free to play along, it's simple. Just finish the unfinished.

Chapter 1 - A Handmade Life (identity)

My body is holding onto...

baby fat

mystery pain

youth

the dance

the urge to go...somewhere

it's early morning internal alarm

the force

power

junk food

the rhythm

fatigue

 a more comfortable version of itself

Ahhhh a completed post.  Feels good:)  XOXOXOXOXOXO

ode to the joy of a couch

Note:  For the 33 of you that have already read the sleepy, first edition of  "Ode to the couch" blog, stick around for the photos.  For the rest of you...this is all new information.  Kisses.


::


I'm coming to you live, from my new couch.  The one that feels like a velvet covered cloud and is the soothing color of a perfectly sweet creamed coffee.  We've had the couch for a week and 2 days and I haven't done one single bit of evening physical activity since this beautiful creature came in to our lives.  I cannot resist the chase lounge, the over stuffed pillows.  We've even spent the night on it.  Both of us. And we slept better than we do in our bed.  This could be very very bad.


I've caught up on about 5 tv shows that I never even heard of before.  Which is easy because I don't really watch tv.  I have accidentally found some tv I enjoy via the netflix, but hulu is a different game entirely.  Hulu and this couch have given me blogger's block.  Every time I belly up to my desk to write, I get tense and figity, distracted by the siren song of the couch and the hulu.


It took me a week and 2 days to give up the fight and cave completely, bringing the laptop to the couch.  My giant comfy blanket and my holiday jammie pants are made of the same material. I'm encased in velvety goodness, velcroed to this spot, peering over the top of my laptop fearful that the witch hunters will burn to to get rid of her dark magic.  Name the terrible CW show.


But the writer's block is gone:)  When you can't move your ass from the couch to the desk, bring the desk to the couch I guess.  And then write about said couch.  


This is no way to get ready for the Warrior Dash or a Tough Mudder or even the Pumpkin Festival 5k.  I feel an intervention coming.


Or, it could be that my body needs this little piece of heaven just now.  I have been crazy content, it's been building day by day since December.  I'm taking deeper breathes, reading books, cooking new meals from new cookbooks.  I'm journaling meals, complete with pictures, giddy with the idea that someday the girls will pick up this "cookbook" to find not only delish recipes, but their momma's sense of humor, and memories of how we always partied in the kitchen.  


I'm not crashing on the couch every night.  I'm sitting here reading.  Real books, from start to finish.  I've been reading the same 3 books for about 3 years.  This couch comes along and BAM!  New book done in less than a week.  This couch is making me smarter.  Fatter...but smarter.


When I'm not pining over furniture, some good work is getting done around here.  A massive purge of excess toys brought more organization to several rooms in our new house.  Finally, I feel like these rooms have their own purpose, a specific function rather than just places we dumped our stuff 6 months ago.  We've lived in a lot of houses over the last 10 years and each time, there is a moment when I realize the house has become our home.  When our people arrived last weekend for Autumn's 15 birthday, and everyone was settling into their rooms and tossing suitcases around like they would stay for ever...I felt that moment.  


I love walking by a room and seeing suitcases open, things tossed about.  It means someone is visiting:)


Fast forward 24 hours.  After a peaceful snowed in Sunday at home, I just jumped on here to enjoy some of my frick'n amazing chili and finish this blog.  Add some photos and call it good.  But what I saw was 33 page views.  For a blog post I did not send out into the universe. Except... I did.  In my couch drunk stupor, I must have "posted" the blog instead of "saved" it.

I am too cool.

::


My girl turned 15 on January 17th. 15.  Fifteen.  Quince.  It blows my mind.  Of my three children, the story of how Autumn came to us is my favorite .  She was the unplanned game changer of my life.  In 3 minutes my life went from one of total self absorption to one of possibility.  The possibility of knowing love so intense and overwhelming, you lose yourself in it.  You would throw yourself in front of a freight train for it.  That 15 seconds of peeing on a stick, followed by 165 seconds of watching a second blue line appear, forged a bond between myself and that cluster of cells that would forever change the course of my life. In 3 minutes, I become a mother, without hesitation, reservation or regret.


By the time I got pregnant with Annika I knew I was capable of sharing this love with however many children the universe blessed me with.  


I knew I loved being pregnant and could rock it.


I had breastfeeding down.  I could feed nations.


I could work off the baby fat in 12 months with out sacrificing Mexican food. 


And when we decided to see if God and my old eggs could rally one last time, I was content with what I had, so Liam was the cherry on top.  He is ALL dessert baby.


And as much as I believe each of my children is nothing short of a miracle, the truth is that neither Annika or Liam would have ever even had a chance...without Autumn.


My girl.

Well hello baby girl. 

Look at my girl now.  Totally confident in her style...eat'n an apple.  I think she is the coolest.

My favorite part of birthday weekends?  The long, lazy mornings.

with superman...

and Grandmas...

Grandmas who wear Ed Hardy glasses rule.

Grandma's who wear Superman t-shirts rule.

and favorite cousins...

I'm not a big shopper.  As a matter of fact, you could know me for a very long time and never hear me utter the words "Let's go shopping!!"  No, it's typically more like "Ugh, I have to go shopping, will you go for me?"

But for some reason, my 3 Aries loves can sweet talk me into just about anything, even a Saturday of shopping.  How do they do it?

From left to right: Libra, Aries, Aries, Scorpio (me), Capricorn and... Aries.

The Aries.  They are lovely, complicated creatures.  I seem to be wildly attracted to them as well, even though as a Scorpio their over the top enthusiasm for life and right on the surface emotions require a lot of focus.

I have 4 Aries in my "inner circle" already, and I recently befriended another one without even realizing it. There is something going on here.  I'll get back to you when I complete my research:)

I love it when family hangs out in my kitchen.

And it always happens.  I've lived in houses where the kitchen is the smallest room in a tiny house and without fail, we end up piled high, sitting on counter tops and floors with wine in hand chatting away.  Standing room only, the rest of the house available, but no...the kitchen is the heart of the home in my family. 

My family + my husband's family + our family + eating a giant breakfast in my house = over the moon, swooning, gushing, cheesy joy! 

Yup.  We are home.

Speaking of my home.  I need your help.  

I have A LOT of windows that need A LOT of help in the window treatment department.  At the moment there are blinds on them.  I hate blinds. I'm grateful the former owners left them on, because this would be a giant fishbowl peep show if not for the terrible beige blinds.  But we aren't really "beige" blinds kind of people.

Having said that, I am struggling to find a beautiful, creative and affordable way to cover all these fracking windows.  I would like to spend less than 300.00, but so far that seems unlikely. 

The big issue is that anytime you are going to toss up this much fabric, it needs to not overwhelm the room.  I want to make them myself, but what fabric?!?!? 

There are more, I just can't get them all in the photo.

Please, please help a sister out.  

Happy Chinese New Year!  And don't forget to give my other little project some love when you can! XOXOXOXOXO

40

hump day nuggets: little bits of the season in photos and words about the last week.  Encouraged to steal this idea from Dig This Chick because she is awesome blossom. 

Actually, these are birthday nuggets.  My 40th birthday nuggets.  And easily the most special nuggets yet.  

I'm not sure how other women feel about turning 40.  I've never asked someone.  I know that for some reason the retail/ commercial image of turning 40 includes lots of black decor and really awful naked 20 year old men cards mocking your inability to score them because you are..old. Funny...I seem to be scoring all over the place with my 20 something man. ~blush~

I have been super excited about my 40s for a long time.  True story.  Even in my 20's when I was fully and blissfully submerged in college life, I knew my 40's would be better.  The later part of my 20's was a brutal reality check after the never never land that is college.  Really far away from home for the first time should have been an adventure, but with a baby on board and a low paying job it was more like survival.  I knew FOR SURE my 40's would be better.

I never thought about my thirties really.  Not until I reached my 30th birthday and hit a wall of disappointment.  For the entire week of my birthday I suffered a early life crisis.  I had not gone to law school, or lived in a van while traveling the country, or moved to another country or done a tour with the Peace Corps.  I had two kids and a divorce on my life resume.  I did not give myself credit for building a career or surviving a divorce with a strong relationship with my x husband in tact or the beautiful human beings I had brought into the world.  Nope, for that week, I was a total, miserable failure.  

And then... it was over.  And what replaced my pitty party was absurd drive and determination to do everything myself always.  To never need anyone to provide emotional or financial support ever again and I would be the master of my universe at all costs.  

This was good.  It was the only way I survived until 35.  It was not very conducive to having any relationships and today I formally apologize to anyone who was trying so hard to be close to me then.  I was a terrible friend.  But I was taking care of business, bringing home the bacon and frying it up in a pan.  I wrapped my arms around my girls and my job and kept them close to me in my hard candy shell.  Brandon was there, but I worked very hard to protect him from responsibility, not because he shied away from it, but because I had to do it myself...for myself.

Looking back I wonder what his perspective is on that time.  I've never asked him.  I've asked him why he stayed.  Apparently, he knew, we were his family. 

It was around 35 that I remembered I had my 40's to look forward to and when I really started to fantasize about how glamorous and sexy my 40s would be.  How I'd have all my shit together, my emotional shit and my financial shit.  I'd have a home I owned and cars that were paid for.  I wouldn't live on credit cards between checks and I'd be at the top of my career. 

I would love and be loved.  I would be open to any and all levels of friendship.  I would be a good friend, a thoughtful friend.  I would be confident and secure.  

Guess what.  I was right.  I'm 40 today and it's all true.  It's even better.  It's better because from 35 to today, I learned to ask for help.  I've learned to put my heart in someone else's care and trust it would be nurtured and protected.  I've learned that time with my family, working in a garden, canning and video games make me happy.  I've discovered photography and writing.  I learned to cry in front of people, both in moments of joy and sadness, something my 30 year old self would have seen as weak. As a matter of fact, I've cried more in the last 5 years than in the previous 35 years combined, and I'm the happiest I've ever been.  Life is crazy.

I'm still learning to be a good friend. Hang in there, those of you still trying so hard...it's coming along. 

Thank you, all of you who loved me through my 20s and 30s, especially those who kept telling me this day would come.  Who believed for me for those years in my 30s when I doubted.  And thank you to those of you who have found me now, later in our lives.  Those shiny new friendships and old friendships renewed are my growth now. Such beautiful people!

Birthday Nuggets baby.  Best...birthday...ever.

::



My people came to celebrate.  They surprised me at work.  They said they came to celebrate me and that the theme for the weekend would be:

"Life is messy, but you make it beautiful"

Surprise birthday weekend events followed suite:

beautifully lazy mornings

favorite cupcakes from favorite city bakery

spot on music mix

big family dance party

Surly

Jewelry

Brother/Sister tattoos 

This is the "Life is Messy" necklace that inspired the tattoos.  And like the tattoo, it may never come off my body:

Awesome toddler sleep over!

My people.

And it's only 2pm on this, the day of my birth.  There just may have to be more nuggets tomorrow.  With my people...you never know. 

Happy 40th to me & happy day to you.  XOXOXOXOXOXOXO  

Do Over

I've lost my mojo and I am desperate to get it back.  January is gone, but while it was here is took alot from me. It took all my energy and most of my reserve.  It took my feeling of safety and security.  It took a little of my faith  and optimism.


My intention was to write a "Happy New Year!" blog on February 1st to get a much needed do over to the start of 2011.  But last night when I sat down to write it...there was no energy.  I wanted it to magically return when I turned the page on January, but found it had not. I can rally my energy and optimism for about half a day but I can't sustain it.  That frustrates me, it's not me.  I feel like a car in this bitter winter cold, with a dead battery.  As long as I can get a boost from someone else, I can run for a while, but as soon as I stop it's done.  And there are hours during the day when not even jumper cables work...I just can't turn over.  So, I'm trying to keep those jumper cables attached to me, because I need them and I know that very very soon, their boost is going to turn over my engine and off I'll go!


Jumper cables:


Birthday parties!!!

From Do Over Blog

From Do Over Blog

From Do Over Blog

Hey birthday boy...why so hesitant to accept your birthday kiss?

From Do Over Blog

Awesome photobomb kid.

From Do Over Blog

Last Friday was a much needed, perfect jump start.  Our first birthday party of the new year, the first gathering of the peeps.  Because it was Barrett's birthday, and because we all hadn't been together like this since before Maria passed away, there were tears at this birthday party.  But they were good tears, of support and love perfectly mixed with smiles and laughter.  It feels like this is how it is supposed to be and will be for some time to come.


Other than the party night, I haven't picked up my camera much.  For a long time now the world has had sparkly fairy dust on it and I've been wandering around with my camera and my little brown notebook, desperate to keep up with it's beauty. Desperate to chronicle the stories of each day.  My awe and admiration for these everyday gifts is sincere and it is still there, but right now the sparkle is less bright...harder to notice.  And when I do catch it I find myself staring, trying to burn the moment into my memory, no time to get my camera.  I've developed some anxiety around forgetting or missing moments because for the first time in my life I am experiencing what it is to lose them.  I've lost the opportunity for more moments with two people I love dearly this year.


The sparkle is not gone and I've caught it a few times.

Liam's little "work centers" are in every room of the house.

From Do Over Blog

From Do Over Blog

And Barret caught it big time ...

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From Do Over Blog

From Do Over Blog

But I do find myself waiting for an ending...some definitive ending to this funk.  What will it be?  I've been recalling the "funk free" days of the past, the ones chock full of sparkle.


Will spring be my savior?

From Do Over Blog

Summer?

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I know I feel ready for a summer party:) I'm ready to make paper flowers and send evites.

From Do Over Blog

Do I just need a silly day trip with my babies and Brandon?

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From Do Over Blog

Or maybe just more of these guys...these moments. Maybe I just need to snap out of it, stop searching and just look around me again. Because really, while everything has changed...nothing has changed, the sparkle, the stories, the unbelievable gift that is my life is still there.

From Do Over Blog

From Do Over Blog

From Do Over Blog

From Do Over Blog

From Do Over Blog

It's crazy to me that this is what I do for a living ... drive change.  I'm an Human Resources professional and I excel at two things:

"Building a team people love to be on" and "Driving Change"

and yet here I sit...spinning.  I've been recalling all the conversations about adjusting, learning, growing, stretching yourself, adapting, embracing change.  All the team members I've helped move on, keep forging forward in a new way!  Ohhh the irony.


But it's all good.  I can feel it now, a buzz right below the surface.  Soon the fog will lift and the smoke will clear.  I will look around and see the blinding beauty is still there.  The sparkle...there it is right there.

And was isn't there, what was lost on two Sundays...one in October and one in January is surely not lost at all, but likely dispersed all around us.  The love and laughter of two stunning women, their energy unleashed into the universe.

From Do Over Blog