the wheels on the bus are falling off

Here is an interesting little thing I've learned about me and my kids since my loving husband has moved to South Dakota ahead of us.  Without his patriarchal presence, there are no boundaries when it comes to the momma's personal space.  My bed, my bathroom, the 1 foot space behind my office chair...are all open game to a child placing themselves in the space around me.  It is simultaneously beautiful and maddening.


I hate not having my husband present.  I had forgotten how crazy I am without him to calm me down and give me some perspective.  When we are together, it's ying and yang baby.   This life we have created, runs well only when we are a team.  Everything is overwhelming when going it alone.  Well not everything...but clogged sinks, drippy outside faucet are.  Water features with broken pumps that now appear to only function as a breeding ground for mosquitoes make me feel as if the wheels are falling off the bus.  Because normally, he would be here to work his boy magic and I wouldn't have to worry about them. 


I want my husband back.  I want my wife gig back!


I remind my self that in three weeks this will all be over. We will be together, in our new home (goosebumps!)  And when that happens there will be part of me that misses the anticipation, the excitement and adrenaline that goes with big change like this.  The house in Vermillion is like the mother of all Christmas presents...just waiting to be unwrapped.  And I'm the little girl that sneaks down every morning to shake it, trying to figure out what exactly is inside.  I don't know yet what our stuff looks like in that house or what our lives will look like, but I soon will.

I'll take what's behind door #624 Monty! 

At whats coming...well it's almost more than I can wrap my head around.  For the first time in my adult life, I will be living near my mom.  She will be living less than an entire day's drive from her grandbabies. There will be pop ins and calls that go something like "hey we are going for a walk after dinner, wanna come?"  The pictures here will completely change. We will be interwoven into the fabric our each other's daily lives.  Yup...can't wrap my head around it.


In the meantime, I'm all over the map, trying to stay organized on all fronts.  Work, babies, house, packing, new house, new job.  What is getting lost in all this is time for this blog, which is fine, it's a hectic time.  But all this stress, excitement and change only creates more thoughts, more things to say.  But there is no time and all day long I think of things to write, tuck them away into a safe part of my brain.  And just as I suspected those many months ago, they often disappear as I lose the nightly battle with sleep, crawling from my desk chair to the office couch.


My "edit posts" page is an outstanding list of two to three sentence observations, designed to trigger some blog post I stored away.  Reading them alone is hilarious.  When summer is over and life starts to settle into a quiet, peaceful, South Dakota routine, it will be fun to see if those blurbs inspire the blog posts they are intended to.  Or will they simply be random thoughts, discarded for newer, shinier ones?


This summer's soundtrack is made up of The Tallest Man on Earth, Bon Iver, Feist and Fitz & The Tantrums.  I <3 life soundtracks.  Life soundtracks are my absolute favorite.  The organic way the music weaves itself into the fabric of your life.  For that snapshot in time, it is permanently part of the memory.  Fire up a little Hall & Oats and I'm mowing the lawn at the farm with my first walkman on.  Aldo Nova...and I'm choreographing my first dance...on roller skates.  Aldo Nova = frozen Charleston chews and bright white skates with a pink puff on the toe.  Sheriff "When I'm With You" = totally devastating junior high love.  Radio dedications and slow dancing so close you melt into each other.  ~sigh~


This topic needs it's own blog post.


So the soundtrack to the summer is in place and the slide show in my head...the flickering reel to reel of the summer of 2011 looks like this:











It's all there. The long cold spring, packing, grandma visits, birthday, clearance end cap pools and interpretive dance in the kitchen. The official drink of the summer of 2011 is the Leinenkugel's Summer Sampler Pack...cans. Because they stay cooler longer in the summer. Who knew?


The one year anniversary of The Nerd Herd blog is approaching. I miss those lazy days of spare time and emotional purging via blogger. I miss pausing and feeling...communicating. I will be so pleased when the constant tasking is over. Feeling and not just doing. It's happened here and there this summer.  We will find a few more of those moments I'm sure. 


I know better than to wish time away. Even in turmoil, there is beauty.








And interpretive dance in the kitchen.

Photo Challenge...Red, White & Blue

I Heart Faces weekly photo challenge time again:) The 4th of July is a big holiday in my family and this cake is a staple of our celebrations. I cannot remember a year without it.   It is part of our tradition, to leave our cities and gather at the farm.  To wear cheesy matching red, white & blue t-shirts and spend too much money on South Dakota fireworks (thank you SD for your less restrictive laws).  It is currently my mom's job to whip up this patriotic cake, but I'm next:)

Check out more fantastic, Red, White & Blue inspired photos at:

http://www.iheartfaces.com/2011/07/photo-challenge-red-white-blue/

I ask not for a lighter burden, but for broader shoulders. ~Jewish Proverb

Such a stunningly peaceful morning.  All the windows open, a cool breeze carrying the last hint of lilac into my office, a toddler content to color on the floor next to me,  a tween sharing a coffee and classical music with me and a teenager blissfully sleeping in.  I'm sure she has heard me knocking around and is just waiting for the knock on her door "Autumn time to get up and get moving."  But there won't be a knock this morning because that would mean the tween and the teen would start their daily bickering rituals and I'm not down for that this morning.


I need as much peace as I can get today because I am on the edge, toes clinging to the side so I don't fall off.  I'm looking down at the chaotic mess below and wondering WTF is going on?  Watching the endless parade of train wreck events truck through our lives and the lives of our friends and family the last 8 months. 

Has it only been 8 months?

I have wondered about the string of perfect days, months, years...the "run" we've been on.  Could it last?  Is there a cosmic price to pay for a series of FORTUNATE events?   I've sensed something creeping up on us, something Grinch like with a menacing grin and rotten heart. But I dismissed it as a built in guilt, compliments of the Catholic church. Guilt for being the beneficiary of far too many blessings.  I sensed it, felt it, but you can't live fearing something "may" happen, so I ignored it. 


But here we are.

And this too shall pass.  What doesn't kill us makes us stronger.   If you're going through hell, keep going.   A bend in the road is not the end of the road... unless you fail to make the turn.  God doesn't give us anything we can't handle.  When life gives you lemons...get a good wheat beer, toss them in and throw it down.  That's what I've been doing this week.

My parents and my soul mate are homeless.  Torn from their beautiful home in a frantic evacuation, fleeing from a man made flood.  Taking everything...EVERYTHING from the house.  Working almost 24 hours a day for 3 days to save whatever they could before leaving.  Ripping up carpet, removing doors and built ins before walking away for 2 months? 6 months?  Not knowing what will remain when they can finally return.  It is true that they are fortunate to have warning, to save their possessions and know they will be safe.  But the price you pay for knowing, is the pain of waiting.  Waiting for your home to be inundated with water and left empty and exposed for months.  Waiting to go back to see if it will again be the home you made together, or if it is gone.


And yes, they are safe, their friends and neighbors are safe.  It is a blessing.  And yes, when it comes down to it, it is just stuff.  But, a house is more than just a big pile of "stuff", it is a home, that holds the lives that pass through it, the energy they leave behind.










Everything leaves an imprint on a home.  Every hug, tear, argument, dance, sprinkling of laughter.  It stays and lives and seasons a home until it is uniquely you.  To have to run away from it unexpectedly is devastating.   To know you are leaving it behind, unable to protect it... heartbreaking.


My parents are strong, resilient people who have never been handed anything. They have taken that "mid western work ethic" and spent their entire lives maxing it out.  Everything they have was gained through sacrifice and unflinching dedication to the entrepreneurial spirit, to their ideas and to their business.  And while others may cling to the rewards of their work with an iron fist, my parents feel blessed and feel a responsibility to share their blessings, to take care of others.  And they do.  And this year more than ever.  It breaks my heart, that after the longest, most painful of winters, my parents will not get to find peace in the new life of spring.  That my mother, who spent 3 days sitting beside her dying sister, waiting for Maria's peace to come, has now spent 3 days deconstructing the home she and my dad built together for 18 years.  3 days of another kind of passing, and now the waiting.


I have spent much of this year being sad.  At the moment, I'm just really frick'n mad.

Troubles are often the tools by which God fashions us for better things.  Allow yourself a moment of grief when life's misfortunes visit you.  However, do not spend your days building a monument in honor of them.  Better to lose count while naming your blessings than to lose your blessings to counting your troubles.  We shall draw from the heart of suffering itself the means of inspiration and survival.

But mad is not a productive emotion and I don't linger in mad for very long, because it destroys me.  I prefer to take mad...and turn it into a positive action.  To transform negative energy into a good deed.  The world does not need me to toss "mad" into the universe.    So I'm  off, packing up the kids and going to help my family make a home in a temporary place.  The evacuation is done, but there are a lot of  hugs to give, laughter to be found and plans to make.  There is a future to prepare for.  An incredible future that includes us living in the same area, participating in their grand children's daily lives, building a business, impromptu dinners and shopping trips, morning cups of coffee sitting side by side instead of computer monitor to computer monitor.  


Regardless of what is happening right now, we will not abandon the potential of the future.

  

I have heard there are troubles of more than one kind.

Some come from ahead and some come from behind.

But I've bought a big bat.  I'm all ready you see.

Now my troubles are going to have troubles with me!

~Dr. Seuss

mommas

When you start here:

where can you go?


Maybe I should just stop. Let you soak it in. I've been drawn into that photo over and over again the last few days, wishing I could reach in and wrap those babies in my arms. But that hug wasn't for me, it was theirs, love from a brother to a sister. I'm just the lucky momma that was lurking close enough to catch a baby should he fall off the jungle gym...or catch this moment.


Maybe I have a few more for you...maybe I can go here:





Sometimes there just aren't words. Pain leaves a blinding white hole in the part of your brain where words should be. Grief smothers thoughts and words with the heaviest of weights , leaving only tears. Joy fills your brain with a massive jumble of words that fail to exit in any coherent manner.


That was this weekend. Joy...pure joy. There were times this weekend that I found myself suddenly and unexpectedly panicked that a person can only have so many of these moments... and aren't I surely getting close to my lifetime maximum? I did some quick math in the bathroom of Pazzaluna. If I live to be 85 (reasonable enough given the longevity in my family) I will still only have 46 years of this life left. That can't be enough time.


Enough time for nights like this:

Ericka Marker Schapekahm

BEST NIGHT EVER. How many of those is one allowed in a lifetime? Thanks chica for organizing an amazing night. Love you.

Melanie D Schmidt I agree! Last night was so much fun, I can't wait to do it again ;)

Teresa Evans Yay! I cannot stop smiling! I think that we can repeat that recipe to many, many more!

Teresa Evans Oh and I love you to pieces!

Teresa Evans

I could not of asked for a better night last night . . . amazing friends, amazing dinner, amazing theatre! I have perma-smile today! Thanks to all who came out. Those who missed out we will be doing it again for Panic at Park Square!

Barrett Evans

Weekend filled with yummy food (in belly and on stove and soon on the grill), the best of friends and family, plus theatre! Pure awesomeness.

No pictures of this night, but I could show you about 10 more Facebook posts that would add color to the story of our Saturday night in the city. Believe it or not, there are some things that trump getting "the shot." Like a pretty dress and sassy heels, big hair and heavily lined eyes. Sometimes a girl has to get tarted up a bit and a giant orange camera bag does NOT complete the look.


Running around the city, from restaurant to the theater, post performance chat with the director and actor, back to restaurant for late night happy hour. If you live in the city for no other reason, this is it. You can ditch the pony tail and yoga pants and become very cool in the time it takes to drive downtown. I love it. It is the perfect ying to my South Dakota yang. And to do it up with fellow So Dakers makes it even better. We may not cross paths in the cities very often, but when we do there aren't awkward moments of getting reacquainted, just jumping all in for the experience of the night. I think it is the SD connection that allows that to happen and I think it's magic. And then POOF...we are home, scrubbing off makeup at 2am, heels abandoned in the car, Spanx on the stairs, husband passed out on top of the bed covers, me praying he will stop snoring and the baby will sleep past 5am. But if he doesn't...it's okay...it was worth it.


Thank you to that group for always welcoming us in and making us feel like rock stars.


Not to be outdone by a Saturday night in the city, Sunday had some magic in store for us as well.


Our girls. Let me just tell you what our 11 & 14 year old daughters wanted to do Sunday:

• go to the nursery to pick out pepper & tomato plants
• garden
• work in the yard
• fabric trip for sewing projects (did that)
• make strawberry shortcake (did that)
• watch the rest of Jaws (did that)
• go for a family walk (did that)
• to the park (oh we did that)

I'm not sure what other 11 & 14 year old girls ask to do on the weekend, but I loooooove how mine roll. 


The family walk to the park begins:



Here is what I dig about this photo:


Annika - Dainty pink  flower Wellies, even though there isn't a lick of rain, prancing around in the grass, on the fringe, away from the baby stroller or the dog (i.e. work.)  The Aries...she needs to be free to flit and flutter as she sees fit.


Brandon - Signature brown hoodie. Strolling with his buddy, playing real life flash cards "CAR!" "BIRD!" "DOG!" Patient as the day is long with chatter box girls.


Autumn - My capable trustworthy Capricorn. In charge of the dog. Confident she is a dog whisperer. Confident in her new flaming red hair. The other mother in our house, monitoring cleaning projects, grocery needs and siblings.  My right hand, my old soul.


As pleasant a teenager as Autumn is...she is still a 14 year old girl.  And my request for a photo is usually met with a sigh and massive eye roll.  So, Saturday during morning chores, I ambushed her while she was cleaning my bathroom.  Boxed her in and got some photos!  




Those are the ones I am allowed to use.


Back to the park.
The first park trip of the spring. No words. But more photos, and even the teenager was down for some real shots. Drunk on sunshine I tell you, we all were.









I've said that Liam calls all three of us girls "momma" and it's true he does. If you show him a photos of all of us and ask where Autumn or Annika is, he will point at the correct beautiful face. But if you show him a photo and ask "who is that" his answer for any one of us is always "momma." Every single time I hear his little voice say that about my girls, I have to stifle a flood of tears that threaten to flow. I just can't imagine the love he must feel every day, from the moment he stirs in the morning to the last kiss he gets at night.  


Where Autumn had the awkward, overprotective, love of a first time mother, and Annika had the hectic love of a career mom shared with her sister...Liam has the undivided love and attention of his sisters.  I have arranged my life to better accommodate my mommy responsibilities...my mommy joys.  And Brandon...well he just wouldn't make choices that cut into family time. Liam came along at just the right time, lucky baby.


And while Autumn is most definitely the closest thing he has to a mother besides me, Annika is his constant companion. Those two...well...there are no words.





He is her constant shadow. He lives to be where she is, do what she does, make her laugh.  

Always just one step behind her...


Or at least trying his hardest...



Partners in crime. Annika sneaks him chocolate, crashes cars with him, snuggles in for a movie, hops in the tub with him and brings him into her bed early in the morning.



I am frequently overwhelmed with gratitude for being chosen to mother these babies. How is it possible that the girl that loudly and persistently declared she was never having children, would be given the opportunity to bring these divine creatures in the world and watch them grow. Watch them learn to love and experience love in return?

You don't choose your family. They are God's gift to you,
as you are to them.

~Desmond Tutu