Mommyista

Change a-Comin'

2011-06-14T16:32:00.000-04:00

Last night I got caught up in a program Jeff was watching. It was about a 500 pound man who was given an opportunity to change his life with a team of trainers, life coaches, nutritionists - the whole 9. He began the show by agreeing with his trainer that he did not love himself. As the show progressed, he was able to confront the sexual abuse of his past as well as his desire to live openly as a homosexual. This poor man had been covering his pain with food and hiding who he really is because of what he believed other people would think. He was not free to be himself and therefore did not love himself. Such a shame the things we will do to ourselves in the name of self-preservation.

This made me think about the ways in which I let my perception of what others might think effect me. There are numerous times throughout my week when I catch myself second guessing something I have done, something I've said and so forth. What the crap? This is no way to live. I do not want to feel constrained by other people...but here I am putting all this pressure on myself. Why I am trying to scramble my own eggs?

I think it all boils down to hoping it will be received well by others. Will they like it? Will they like me? Turns out this is a huge burden. (HELLO!) I smell a change a-comin', and it smells like a big bowl of awesome.

This morning something clicked for me: freedom. There is no reason to burden myself with worries that are make believe. After all, aren't most of these concoctions in my head made up self-inflicted fiction? Falsery at its finest. My children do not worry if they have said something they may sound dumb. They are not concerned if their clothes don't match (which they usually don't since I let them dress themselves most of the time). No. My boys are free! I mourn the day that freedom is stripped from them. When they start caring what other people think about them and their actions/choices - daggers to my heart! Today begins a promise to myself of making a conscious choice to form a new habit; not being concerned with such matters any more.

The rules are simple:

1. Stomp those doubtful feelings as soon as they arrive.

They are wasted mental space and don't no deserve to take up the precious amount of braincells I have left.

2. Go with what feels good and right. Your soul will not lie.

Enough said.

3. Save the judging for Judy.

I have realized that what goes hand in hand with this resolution is to stop the judgement of others as well. Wether it is in my head or uttered aloud, I cannot expect to find freedom in being myself if I am going to judge others for being who they are.

Who will join me?

How many times can I say, "Magic?"

2011-05-10T14:42:00.000-04:00

One of the things I love most about children is that they believe their world is magic. I'm not just talking Santa and Disney World, but the everyday magic that happens in the life of a child. As the years of our life add on, the number of magical moments seem to be subtracted off. As adults most things seem ordinary, this is why when we look back on our childhood and recall special memories that magical feeling rushes through us. I know, it sounds a little bit Care-Bear-hugs-and-giant-lollipops-ish, but how magnificent would it be bottle that feeling of waking up on Christmas morning at 6 years old?

I came close to one of these moments on Friday evening. I was driving to deliver a meal to a woman who has a new baby when I saw something that made me gasp. That inhale on my gasp could have gone on for days! Now before I saw this awe inspiring sight, I was looking at the mountains and thinking how pretty they look now that all the trees are green and full. Just as I was coming back to reality from my mountain-gazing (don't fret, I was at a stop light!) I saw a pack of 6 hot air balloons float across the sky. Insert giant gasp here. By the time I was able to pull over to take a picture they had slipped out of sight behind a mountain. But they would give me the opportunity on my way home to snap a quick photo with my phone just to allow me some street cred for this post.

Now I understand that there is a scientific explanation behind how and why a hot air balloon can fly, but as I watched one of those bad boys float effortlessly across a highway over all those cars and building and trees, it was like watching magic in action. That childlike essence of wonder passed through me and I decided that I was to come home and book a ride on a hot air balloon!

After seeing this sight on an ordinary Friday evening, I felt all weekend my senses were heightened to the little pockets of time in each day where we might find a handful of those special feelings.

Jeff and I took the boys to a train exhibit at Cheekwood, which is a gorgeous botanical garden and museum here in Nashville. Our boys were among the dozen going bonkers over the small village of trains buzzing around what seemed to be endless tracks. And I saw it. I saw it in the eyes of my children and the eyes of other people's children: magic. (Well, there was one approximately 12 year old girl who walked over to Parker and said, "You know that's not a real waterfall, right? I, like, saw a hose, like, back there. So it's like, fake." Yeah, she was not in such a magical mood. She can go listen to Justin Bieber in the corner.) The excitement these kids were emitting as they darted from one side of the exhibit to the next was tangible, there was something in the air, I tell ya.

As we walked through the gardens there were numerous children rolling down grassy hills and skipping stones in the pond and pretending they were in an enchanted forest. How freakin' awesome is rolling down a hill, by the way? Why do you not see adults rolling down hills? I was so tempted! BUT, I was wearing white pants that I really like...

Our weekend also included a trip to our neighborhood park. Each time we go there, the boys love to climb these rocks out in the field. To me, they are rocks. To my kids, they are "mountains." Here they sit on the mountain they have climbed, feeling big and tall and full of possibility. I want to view the world through their lenses.

What seems small to us in immense to them. It is magic.

Sunset on My Mind

2011-04-28T08:47:00.000-04:00

image via: artwall.us

Happy Friday!

In 3 hours I board a plane to the beach. Can think of nothing more marvelous than to stare at the sunset with a

margarita in hand!

Pictures and more to come next week!

Look in the Nook

2011-04-14T10:30:00.000-04:00

There is some good stuff hiding in the nooks and crannies. The minutiae of daily life can make it easy to pass over a nook or walk right by a cranny and miss all of the sweetness that is living in those spots.

Like empty cardboard boxes that become rocket ships.

There are days when happiness is right up in your face - a vacation, a holiday, a special event. Those effortless joy filled days when you fall asleep with a smile on your face thinking that if you were Bill Murray it would be pretty rockin' to have this as your Groundhog Day. Mmmmm....aren't those days tremendous?

On the flip side, there are those nights where you fall into bed feeling no more than relief that the sun has set, ready to put this day behind you and move on to the next. It is on this type of day that it takes some extra elbow grease to pluck the happy moments out. But I bet you can guess where those moments are waiting. Yup! The nooks and crannies, baby.

My parents came from Florida to Tennessee to help us move. Fact: moving blows. It is hectic and scattered and tiring. Being aware of this fact I was determined to make sure we made a few memories other than unpacking boxes. So on a Saturday morning filled with sore muscles and little motivation, I rallied the troops for a walk through downtown Franklin to our new favorite bakery.

It was exactly what we needed. Never underestimate the power of fresh air and a stroll. (Just the fact that I can be out my front door and at Merridee's in 5 minutes is something to smile about!) There is beauty in the restoration of an old theatre, inspiration in a random red bench and decadence in counter full of oversized pastries.

And these nooks and crannies? They were oozing with chocolate.

Whatever I Want - GOSH!

2011-03-29T23:44:00.003-04:00

This is the most recent view from my balcony. Blooming trees are beginning to make appearances up and down each street, like models strutting on the catwalk. It is beautiful and exciting and inspiring. Interesting the emotion a tree can evoke.

This is my view for 3 more days. Our relocation purgatory is coming to an end, and if I said I was anything aside from enthused I would be straight up lying. My parents are flying up to Nashville in 2 days to help with all the moving hoopla, but most of all to keep the boys occupied while Jeff and I do all that stuff you do when you move into a new house. I am thrilled to see them. I am also going to try my hardest to avoid slipping into my "Napoleon Dynamite" mode I sometimes assume when I spend too much time with my parents. I find myself huffing and puffing and "whatever I want - gosh!"-ing and feeding ham to llamas named Tina. OK, so that last part is not true, I have never fed a llama any pork products. Scouts honor. But seriously, what is it about spending too much time with your parents that makes you act like a child again? Speaking of children...

check out my little fellas at a recent trip to the zoo. I felt this picture called for an antiqued looked since the scenery was quite pirate-like and all. Look at these guys - maps in hand! We had such a blast.

About half way thru our zoo visit we stopped in a large, open picnic area to have a snack. Parker told me he needed to "pee pee," so I quickly packed up and hightailed it across the field towards the bathrooms. It occurs to me about 30 seconds into my walk that Easton is by my side...but where is Parker? I turn around to see him hobbling - pants and undies around ankles - to keep up. "What are you doooooing?!" I shout. "I just needed to go pee pee right here, Mommy. It's OK, we're at the zoo."

When in Rome, I guess?

S to R

2011-03-21T15:30:00.004-04:00

It's seems that when you move from one place to another a sort of city comparison starts to naturally occur. After two months of being in Nashville I realize I have begun a sort of accumulating a tally in my head.

For example:

Donut shops - point Tampa

Clear skies - point Tampa

Innovative stores/restaurants/destinations - point Nashville

Places to take kids (especially parks!) - point Nashville

These are some shots from Fannie Mae Dees Park, better known as Dragon Park for the big, beautiful mosaic dragon sculpture that weaves in and out of the ground in the middle of the park. I only wish I had a camera and photography skills that would do this work of art justice. I was taken by the imagination this interactive piece encourages! Of course there is plenty of everyday play equipment for plenty of swingin' and climbin' and hangin'!

Which usually results in plenty of snorin' and droolin' and nappin' on the car ride home!

I'm not going to lie. This move has been an ass kicker. The boys have been confused and out of sorts...I have been confused and out of sorts. There have been tears, words, more tears, more words, loneliness, laziness and everything in between. The dancing in the kitchen was being replaced with moping on the couch. (Imagine, if you will, a gauge much like the gas gauge on the dashboard of a car. But replace the "E" for empty with an "S" for sucks and the "F" for full with an "R" for rockin' and you have my emotional gauge.) But on this glorious southeastern spring day at Dragon Park the needle on my gauge moved from S to R.

I felt as if all the residue that relocating had spewed on me was suddenly washed off. And boy, oh boy, was I thrilled! Spending too much time by the S end of the gauge is exhausting. Once you get that stench on you, it's hard to scrub it off. Lucky for me, it was one of those moments where the switch just flips all on it's own. Kinda like when you break-up with a boyfriend and you are so sad and crying and obsessing over the whole thing and then one morning you wake up and your realize you're over him. It's an overwhelming sense of relief that puts you back in the here and now, back to dwelling in the moment, back to where you belong - on the R end of the gauge.

All rockin' feelings have been restored - point Autumn!

Two Cool Things

2011-03-11T16:22:00.004-05:00

There were two cool things that happened before we moved in January.

First, I won a contest! Wait, rephrase: I won a giveaway. I think a contest would denote there was some type of competition where I put in effort and was deemed a winner. But in order to win the giveaway all I had to do was leave a comment on Judi's blog. Next thing I knew, a load of fabric and 10 gorgeous patterns from one of my favorite designers, Anna Maria Horner, was headed my way. I have never been so excited to be chosen at random before - considering the only other thing I have ever been chosen at random for is an extended security check at the airport. So naturally the first thing I did was make this pillow.

Those tiny tootsies just slay me!

Pretty great, huh? I LOVE Anna Maria's designs and have mentioned that before, here. And to make it a true full circle moment, one of the patterns I won was for that quilt! Look for a post on that completed project in 2015. That one takes some time. For reals.

However, I could not have made that pillow without my new love. Which leads me to the second cool thing that happened before I left; I convinced my husband I simply could not live without this rockin' piece of machinery. Honestly, it didn't take as much convincing as I had thought.

Dude. This baby doesn't sew...she puuuuurs. Oh how I love to spend time with her! Although our time together is small I manage to make messes as mammoth as this:

But also things as functional as these:

No, I don't have 10 cameras that I need cases for. These are all being shipped off to my friend Mary for her newest venture, Blossom and Poppy. When Mary was brainstorming for her boutique, she asked Aqua Seventy6 to join in the fun and of course we couldn't resist! You'll find lots of fun stuff made by Yvette and I on Mary's site was she is fully up and running.

Happy Friday! Hope everyone enjoys a fabulous weekend.

Check Point

2011-03-08T21:12:00.005-05:00

Dude. It's been way too long.

I have missed you, blog (and my 2 or 3 friends that faithfully comment) and I mean it when I say it's not you, it's me. Sure, I have excuses: have to -gasp!- plug-in for internet access; must -double gasp!- sit on the floor since wire for said plug-in is seriously, like, 4 inches long; and oh yeah...I moved out of state! That last one has really been the kicker. Nothing like cramming all your belongings into storage, driving 10 hours with two toddlers, a cat and an edgy* husband, getting constipated from eating fast food for days on end and shacking up in corporate housing for a month in a place you've never been before.

I realize none of these things are the end of the world, it's just that they have made it a teensy weensy bit difficult for me to get my blog on. I'm just sayin'.

This is the view from our apartment balcony. The weather has had us wearing clothes like this:

To wearing clothes like this:

Tennessee weather is more fickle than I anticipated but at least it keeps you guessing. (It is currently 46 and raining.) But as far as first impressions go Nashville is making a hell of good one. I have to say of all the spots to land in, this one is pretty freakin' cool.

It is starting to be clear to me that this post has no real direction or depth...I guess it's just my way of easing back into blogging and doing a little catching-up. Just a little check point. It's a good place to start because, dude. It's been way too long.

*I would like to note that I do not mean my husband is "edgy" in a Jared Leto/rockstar/pushing boundaries kinda way. I mean the kind of edgy you get when you are pulling a U-Haul trailer down the highway so you can't see anything out of the back and there is a cat whining in one ear and a kid crying in the other and your wife has to go pee every other exit. That kind of edgy. Just so we're clear.

Happy 100!

2011-01-11T08:18:00.002-05:00

This is my 100th post. Cause for celebration you would think. But if I'm keepin' it real, I must confess, I have been putting it off (which is obvious by the time lapse since my last post).

Part of me was really proud and excited that I had made it this far and another part of me was putting a ton of pressure on myself to make this 100th post super fab/inspiring/rockstar quality writing. Well, you know how those things usually go - the more you try to control something the further from your grasp it slips. So I decided to give in to the real me and make this post a mod podge of random. No bells. No whistles. Just straight-up rambling.

This was our Christmas card. It pretty much sums up 2010 as well as my kids' personalities.

We sold our house and will be moving to Nashville in 18 days. I am cramming more into January than I ever thought possible. I am a ball of one thousand different emotions and am just waiting for the breaking point when the ball bursts and everything comes flooding out. It will most likely happen after I have been living in Tennessee for a month or two. That's how I operate- reality hits me much later than most people. Maybe it's denial?

For the first year in, well...ever, I did not make any New Year's Resolutions. From the time I learned what the term "new year's resolution" meant I have been crafting full blown lists, posters, reminders for reaching my goals and becoming a better person in general. It seems since the tender age of 10 I have been on a journey of self-discovery and improvement. Now that I am about to turn 35 in 4 weeks it seems all that has become exhausting. It is possible I am just learning to give in to the ebb and flow of life and ride the waves where they may take me instead of trying to map my path out in advance.

Turning 35 in 4 weeks seems surreal.

I have fallen head-over-heels in love with sewing again! I dream of it night and day. It is bordering on obsessive but I don't care. (Maybe this is why I didn't make resolutions - I was too busy thinking about sewing.) Here is my latest project.

I have been really inspired by one of my dear friends lately to be more aware of the needs of others and make an effort to be more giving of myself. This is worthy of a post all it's own, so I will save the details and have more on that later this week.

My life is good and I am grateful.

You know You're a Mom When...

2010-12-16T08:16:00.003-05:00

*These are all true happenings collected from my life and the lives of some friends.

You know you're a mom when...

You go into Michael's in need of raffia ribbon and you ask the sales associate,

"Where is the Rafi?"

You open the drawer of your bed side table and find a half-eaten granola bar.

You have convinced yourself that if you drive through the pharmacy window at Walgreens and plead with them they will let you buy a Dr. Pepper so you don't have to get your kids down and go into the store.

Boogers, vomit and poop no longer make you gag (or at least gag as much).

The inside of your purse looks like a cross between a vending machine and

the island of misfit toys.

And speaking of purses...there are refried beans, dried and crusted to the outside of your purse...and you took the kids for Mexican 3 days ago.

You find a wet pull up hidden under your bed and have no idea how long it has been there.

You fantasize about locking yourself in a hotel room, taking Ambien and sleeping for 18 glorious, uninterrupted hours.

The family room couch is crusted with a collection of unidentifiable spots and stains.

What about you? Share your moment(s) in the comments section!

Time is Ticking

2010-12-14T07:57:00.003-05:00

This week is making me feel a little bit like this:

So much to do. So much I want to do but probably won't get around to doing. Coming to peace with the fact that I can't fit it all in and just trying to live in the present moment. I guess this is the modern holiday season.

In my mind I used to imagine I would pull off a family holiday in a graceful and seamless way. All gifts would be checked off my list. The house would smell like a Christmas feast (and be clean!). Everyone would be snuggling under blankets, sipping hot chocolate while we stare at the tree and carols play in the background. We would have nothing but a long stretch of time to share one another's company and happily lounge.

What was I smoking?

Up until this past weekend I was busy making stuff like this

for my new project. Now that the dust has settled, I am face to face with all the holiday cheer I pushed back to the last minute. Although time is ticking, there is still some time left and I am determined to cram as much in as possible and create my dream Christmas...or as close as I can possibly come.

In need of Vital Nutrients

2010-12-06T08:39:00.002-05:00

Holy whirlwind! I need a weekend to recover from my weekend.

I had the best of intentions, a list even. Everything clearly laid out as to what I would accomplish this weekend. But unexpected things jumped into my path and created road blocks on my mission of productivity. Not necessarily bad things...just things. Things that cause you to put lofty hopes of time to yourself aside and focus on the matter at hand.

This is one of those frustrations I find with being a mom/stay-at-home mom. The giving of one self that at times can seem endless. I am well aware that this is part of the job description and I gladly give of myself to all those I love. But when my tank starts to become depleted and I am not able to fill 'er back up, I start to struggle.

I need my stuff. My projects. My friends. My quiet. I need these things to replenish what has been sucked from my soul. They are like vital nutrients. I am hoping to refuel this week and weekend. At least I have something adorable to stare at until then! (see below!)

Word to the Luvahs

2010-11-30T22:05:00.003-05:00

I have this thing. This thing I do and have always done for as long as I can remember. I fall in love with people. Not the I-wanna-makeout-with-you kinda love, more of the let's-be-best-friends kinda love.

The older I get the more I have come to realize that I know from the get go if I am going to fall in love with a person or not. There are a good deal of people who fall in the periphery - it's not that I don't like them, it's just that I know it is not going to be worth putting time and effort into them because ultimately they are not a lover. And the lovers...they are worth the time. They are the ones who lift you up. The ones who make you smile and laugh and cry in the good way. The lovers are the ones you are excited to see and talk to because it just comes naturally and you can't imagine your world without them.

I am in awe of how many wonderful people I am in love with in my life. For all their beautiful and unique splendor that they share with me. Tonight as I was driving home I realized I had seen or spoken to many of these fabulous people in the past two days and I was flooded with a load of happy! Word. Word to the luvahs.

Oh! And by the way - I know I said here that I would post a tutorial on making fabric flowers. But for some crazy ass reason I said that during the week of Thanksgiving. (Guess I thought for a minute I was an over achiever.) Anyway, I know I totally over promised and under delivered, which is plain stank, but a promise is a promise and I will have it up soon! :)

Cards, Cards, Cards!

2010-11-23T08:46:00.003-05:00

I heart Christmas cards so much! For the next month, our mailbox will flood with pictures and greetings from loved ones near and far and I will be in heaven. I display them all along the garland I wrap around my staircase with cute little wooden clothes pins so I can see them all at once.

When it comes to choosing my own cards I always have a hard time deciding. Right now I have it narrowed down to these three from Shutterfly.

Tough decision, huh? My time is running out so I better get my decision making on pronto! If you have a blog, visit Shutterfly's website to take part in this promotion as well.

Happy carding!

Boogie Nights

2010-11-18T07:22:00.005-05:00

This year we had our first Trunk or Treat experience thanks to our sweet friend, Holly, who invited us to join in an extra night of costume wearing and candy hoarding. Like any proper Halloween event there was music blaring like a treat-gathering anthem - loud and thumping!

I mentioned here that my little Poosh likes to get down. When he hears a jam, he can't stop the rhythm. His hips don't lie. And just in case you thought I might be exaggerating, here is your proof.

Even with no warning, bad lighting and struggling to hold the camera straight due to hysterical laughter, I still managed to capture the enthusiasm with which he was dancing. How glorious it must be to feel free enough to drop everything and dance in a parking lot - in a robot costume to boot! Rock on, Easton. Rock on.

Srappy Flowers

2010-11-16T08:28:00.002-05:00

Some days just call for flowers. Glorious, lovely flowers!

I had this plain white tank sitting around in my closet just begging to be made more interesting. So a small stack of fabric scraps and 10 minutes later I had a new-to-me top. If you like to DIY keep a look out for a tutorial later on this week. And if you just like to B-U-Y stay tuned for an announcement on how you can get these and other cute things...coming soon!

My scrappy flower top debuted herself at Dinosaur World where all the omnivores stopped and stared - I was so flattered! My 10 minutes project made my shirt and my day a little brighter! Of course, I am not the only one who can accomplish such things in 10 minutes. While I was making my shirt my boys were making something else on the back porch:

A huge mess! This is what I found after I emerged from sewing land. Just keepin' it real.

Obsessions

2010-11-10T08:32:00.002-05:00

With the holidays around the corner, I am starting to think about gifts for family and friends. As I have been pursuing my fave sites, these are the fabulous finds I am currently obsessed with.

Adorable address labels from Iomoi

Bird cake dish, Huset

Super girly pillow at Anna Maria Horner

Wall Art, Amy Butler

Wrap it all up in this,

holiday gift wrap from Paper Source and call it a day!

Hot & Spicy

2010-11-08T11:23:00.004-05:00

It was about 10:30PM.

Babies - tucked under covers, sawing logs.

Husband - in Nashville on business.

And Moi?

Me- knee deep in the refrigerator with a crazy big appetite.

The sensible food choice at that time of evening would be something along the lines of banana or applesauce or tall glass of OJ, but the salsa was calling to me. And it wasn't a faint little whisper of a beckon, it was an amped-up loud speaker scream to enjoy heaps of delicious, spicy salsa. On impulse I grabbed that glorious cilantro spiked goodness and popped the lid off. But when I went to grab the chips, I hesitated. I had a brief conversation with myself that went a little something like this:

Me (glancing at the clock): Is it too late for salsa?

Me (rolling my eyes into the back of my head): Is it ever too late for salsa? Sha, as if!

Cut to me all alone in the kitchen with a big ole smile on my face and chip crumbs on my chin.

It was a heavenly moment.

I write a lot about "moments." Dancing moments. Inappropriate moments. Creative moments. But isn't life all about the moments? Our lives are made whole by the sum of our moments. Some moments I could do without and some moments I could live in forever.

There are many situations in life where I find myself hesitating. Hesitating to dive in or even dip my toe in a little to test the waters. I have come to realize that I shouldn't pass on those moments. Maybe it won't be what I anticipated or turn out to be life-changing but it will be a moment, my moment and add to the whole of my life. It's never too late to seize a new moment and it's never too late for salsa.

Wish List

2010-11-03T20:56:00.003-04:00

Our upcoming event at Anthropologie got me browsing the store's website. I need a bucket to collect all my drool! Here is my wish list.

{All images via Anthropologie}

Dance in the Kitchen

2010-10-28T21:01:00.003-04:00

Some people sing in the shower. I dance in the kitchen.

It might be a small booty shake as I am washing dishes or it might be a full on 5,6,7,8, routine with high kicks and hair flipping, that is just how I get down. Dancing just feeeeeels good. Even watching other people dance feels good - especially when those people are my sweet boys. Parker has always liked to dance but Easton...now that boy likes to boogie. He's got his mama's rhythm pumping in his veins.

There are many times in our house when we will drop everything and bust out in dance. Often friends, neighbors, grandparents or whomever else happens to be in the kitchen will find themselves caught up in the music, busting their most sizzling hot moves. I cannot tell you how much I dig this. It is these type of moments I love. The moments I could truly live in forever and ever, Amen.

Moments like the pumpkin patch. There is something magical about a tent chock-full of pumpkins that induces a thrill which is distinct and particular to visiting a pumpkin patch. I guess it's like Girl Scout cookies, it comes but once a year.

And who can deny the joy of painting baby gourds?

But the best is the stripping off of clothes to help Daddy wash the car. We are not the type of parents who care if their toddlers are in the driveway in diapers and underwear getting wet under the hose. Some of our neighbors may wish we were but I am so happy we are not.

Hug It Out

2010-10-26T06:36:00.003-04:00

Random Fact #1: 80% of my work history involves working with children.

Almost every job I have held since I was 17 had me side by side with little ones. A brief resume....

Chuck E Cheese

Hallmark

(Church) Youth Leader

Summer Camp Counselor

Abercrombie & Fitch

After School Care

Outreach Educator

Calvin Klein

Classroom Teacher

Mother

There is a lot of emotional drain when you work with kids, but there is one huge perk that balances out all the emotional crap: the hugs. Working in the fashion industry had been a dream of mine since I was little, so taking the job with Calvin Klein was beyond thrilling. Yet when transitioning into this job I went threw a small period of time that left me feeling a little depressed. At first I couldn't put my finger on it. Then I realized it was the hugs.

I had spent years of my life giving and receiving numerous hugs on a daily basis. Those little embraces are powerful and without being aware I was depleting without them. Because let me tell ya, the buyer for Macy's women's denim sure didn't want to hug me - nor I her for that matter. My hugless job was starting to bum me out, man.

Random Fact #2: I give really good hugs. Really good.

When it comes to hugging, you are either an initiator or a recipient. (You know which one you are!) I am a serious initiator. Sometimes to the point where it may be inappropriate. I hug doctors. Realtors. Bosses. Neighbors. Friends' parents. Other people's bosses. Shop girls. It's what I do...I hug. And behold, the power of hugging.

Making

2010-10-25T10:29:00.003-04:00

Things to Make (aside from money)

friends

amends

love

peace

coffee...strong coffee

waves

children

dreams come true

art

music

sense

time for what's important

room

merry

believe

something with your hands

things right

memories

Funnin' around at Old Navy.

Friday Love

2010-10-22T09:03:00.002-04:00

{image: Spool No.72}

Five years ago to day I was married! Time flies when you're having kids...oh and fun, right?

So tonight we celebrate with dinner at Flemings and no kids for the night (and Saturday morning). I just wish I would have ordered this dress in time to wear it tonight - be still my heart! I have the perfect pair of heels in my closet just begging to be partnered up with this dress!

Today is also my friend Lis's birthday - shout out! Happy Birthday, girl! And Happy Friday to all of you.

Ice, Ice Baby

2010-10-21T08:22:00.005-04:00

Alright, stop. Collaborate and listen. Ice is back with show on HGTV. What, what?

{image: DIY Network}

Last night I couldn't sleep. After 8 years together, I am used to my husband traveling, but for some reason I always have trouble getting a good night's sleep the first night he leaves. Thank God for HGTV, that channel is my equivalent of a blankie. It makes me feel secure and lulls me to night night. So last night as I was struggling to relax I flipped on #665, my old reliable station.

And just in time! As the intro for "The Vanilla Ice Project" started rolling I sat straight up in bed. "Brilliant!" I shouted a little too loud for that time of night. Here's the deal: Ice flips houses in south Florida and walks us through the process. Obviously, I was quick to judge. I thought that this may be the most bizarre concept ever - which, of course, made it all the more intriguing! Turns out dude knows what he's doing and is actually a charming host. Yes it did. I just used the word charming to describe the home improvement hosting skills of Vanilla Ice.

I thought for sure I would be using words like tool or douche. There is still a little...well a lot...of homeboy in his blood but he somehow knows a buttload about landscaping and DIY projects.

What I am trying to say amongst this rambling is that I relearned a valuable lesson that I need to be reminded of every now and again: don't be so quick to judge. Just because a 43 year old white rapper dresses like teenage thug does not mean he can't be wicked awesome at flipping houses.

Catching Up

2010-10-19T14:35:00.004-04:00

It seems whenever I don't have the time/energy/inspiration to blog I crave it even more. Obsess, even. To the point where I have drafted 20 new posts in my head that never make it to

fruition. Writing is a passion and like all things that drive and fuel my existence, when it is absent I do not feel whole. So after a few weeks of busy life -sick kids, sick hubs, vacation, party hosting- it feels like therapy to sit here and think and type and let words pour out.

October is one of my favorite months. It is the month I was married, the month Parker was born and it is the month when that maddening rush of holiday fervor kicks into gear. October is a flirt. She brings that little taste of fall, a little peck on the cheek, that makes me giddy with anticipation for the stretch of time between now and the New Year. She is inspires me to do things like make a regular pair of navy shoes into something eye-catching and fun.

Oh how I wish I could take all the credit for these, claim them as an original idea. Truth be told, the idea came from Lemon and Lavender. (Thanks for sharing the tutorial, Ashley!) I love my shoes and pretty much walking around waiting to tell someone I made them. Real humble, huh? And please note my toenails are actually *done*, unlike their usual state of disgrace.

October also brought a baby shower for my friend, Karen. She is having kid #5 and I thought that alone was worthy of something special! I joined forces with my creative, crafting twin, Holly and we put together an afternoon to honor of supermom friend.

Putting this shower together was pure heaven! I still have the tissue paper pom poms hanging in my dining room. The adorable scrappy table skirts and tea cup server were borrowed from Yvette and got lots of props from the shower guests. For favors, Holly and I made reusable snack bags in a variety of sizes. Her's fit a sandwich, mine fit a bottle of wine...just depends on who the snack is for as well as your definition of snack. I'm just sayin'.

And in between the shoe making and the shower throwing, I bask in the glow of everyday pleasures of coloring our driveway in chalk.

And I've discovered that Poosh is somewhat of a chalk hoarder. He did not want to draw so much as walk around the driveway with more chalk than he could carry.

But there is one thing he sure looks cute carrying....my laci jean camera bag. I adore this camera bag! It morphs into a mini-purse in a pinch, holding camera, phone and a little pocket for credit cards. Word. Word to this bag.

Smart Girls Rock

2010-10-06T15:57:00.002-04:00

If you know me it is no secret that I am a die-hard Saturday Night Live fan. I have been watching the show religiously for the past 22 years and have missed very few episodes. Many hours of my life have been dedicated to talking about, watching/re watching and reenacting sketches from the show. It was my dream to be a cast member on the show...one that I never pursued because I choose to believe in the people who told me there was no chance, instead of choosing to believe in myself and try.

Sometimes when I watch it puts that little taste of that-coulda-been me in my mouth but usually I am just too busy laughing. I was never afraid to look silly, act goofy or make a fool of myself in order to make others laugh. Looking back I feel really fortunate that I felt OK with foregoing the pretty to embrace the funny - especially in the teen years!

Well, I recently learned of a website started by former SNL star, Amy Poehler, called Smart Girls at the Party. The site is dedicated to encouraging girls aged 8 -13 to feel proud about being smart, acting goofy and being who they truly are. Word to that! Their motto is "change the world by being yourself, " and all of the webisodes on the site end with a dance party.

Girls get the message very young to be worried about how they look and appear to others, Smart Girls at the Party is empowering these young girls to kick that idea to the curb and feel confident enough to let their real selves shine through. Now that's what I call a party.

Inappropriately Hysterical

2010-10-05T21:23:00.002-04:00

One of the occupational hazards of being a mom is having very little privacy. Little people stroll in as you are showering, pull all your underwear out of the dresser and bust down the door while you are trying to pee. Nothing is sacred in a house with toddlers.

It is just one of those things that comes with the territory. But sometimes my children do something that is totally innocent and hilarious (to me) but borders on being inappropriate. Like today...I tried to sneak into the bathroom to relieve my bladder only to be followed by potty obsessed Easton. As he dashed to the toilet paper roll in an effort to watch it unfurl down to the last square, I attempted to distract him with silly songs and faces.

Even with my cat-like reflexes he still managed to snag a small piece of TP. And instead of trying to eat it -as is his usual move- he bent over and wiped the crotch of my pulled-down jeans. As I laughed out loud he looked up with an expression of, "see there, mommy, I just helped you out." Part of me thought, this is so not right, while another part was touched by his efforts.

Partially inappropriate but completely hysterical...so fitting in the story of my life.

Serious Situation

2010-10-04T15:00:00.003-04:00

I am in a serious situation with this quilt.

{Picture courtesy Anna Maria Horner}

When I close my eyes at night, I see this glorious beaut. I imagine that sleep is deeper, dreamier under this quilt. The bold colors and oversized girlie flowers give me a huge sense of joy. I am such an aesthetic person and items such as this, which appeal to so many of the senses, make my heart skip a beat!

Well, here's the kicker: you cannot buy this quilt. You have to make it! The thought of taking on a project as mammoth as this one is both overwhelming and thrilling in the same moment. Laborious? Yes. Absolutely, completely satisfying to see what your hands can do upon completion? Hell yes. Hell to the yes, yes, yes.

The pattern is not yet available but I will be scooping it up as soon Anna Maria will let me.

Beautiful visions for a beautiful Monday here in Florida. We actually got a little Fall teaser today with a temperature drop! I am reveling in the cool breeze that pushes through my window screens. And as I said to Kara this morning, there is just something about cool weather that makes my coffee taste better. Amen!

Growing Pains

2010-09-30T14:14:00.007-04:00

In the words of the great Ferris Bueller:

"Life moves pretty fast. If you don't stop and look around once in a while you might miss it."

Missing a party kinda stinks. Missing your connecting flight totally blows. But missing life? That, my friends, is painfully tragic. We get one shot, one walk on earth, one chance to drain life dry of all the goodness it can give until we putter out. And I am one of those people who try to jam as much of life's goodness as I can into the days I have on this planet. I have been known to spot a grassy area, pull the car over, get out and do a cartwheel. Just for shits and giggles. Sure, it's no trip to Spain or fancy dinner but it is one of those moments that makes me feel really alive.

It is a feeling you get deep down to your core that makes you crave more of the same. Like the feeling you get when you snuggle your baby or kiss their face so much you think you may never be able to stop yourself. It borders on intoxicating. So those days or weeks when that feeling is not as present - responsibilities, stress, life creeps in and takes over too much - I start to ball-up into my little cocoon. That's where I've been for what feels like an eternity but in actuality has been 2 weeks.

Thankfully, I had some things to pull me out here and there.

A trip to the zoo.

Making a dress which I messed up and turned into a tunic. Letting go of F&C, baby!

Good times with beautiful friends!

Sweet babies to snuggle.

As I am emerging out of my little, temporary bubble I am reminded of a reality that I often don't like to face: I am still growing up. I'd like to think in my 34 years I have most of the big things figured out and can coast along the rest of my days with the wisdom I've gained thus far. Notsomuch. I am still growing, still evolving. While I count this as a positive, this type of growing does not come without its set of growing pains. And sister, I feel the burn.

Sometimes we need to go to that uncomfortable place, where we wriggle and squirm, in order to shed the skin that is preventing us from being the person we aspire to be and doing the things we dream. Not too fun but totally necessary. And as I type these words I am reminded of a saying I once had scribbled on the chalkboard in my kitchen, it read:

"Tread lightly and enjoy the ride."

Happy Friday! Tread lightly and enjoy your weekend.

Ladies Who Lunch...at The Beach!

2010-09-29T14:06:00.004-04:00

{getting ready to roll out to the Sirata in our Regal}

So we were off to the beach on a clear, breezy Florida mid-morning drive. (And speaking of breezy...why is it that Kara and Tara's hair looks model-eque and windblown while mine seems to be plastered to my head? What up with that?) Being a Tampa girl, I have always adored the jaunt across the bay from Tampa to St Petersburg. The way the water seems to stretch on forever in the most perfect shade of ocean blue. Mmmm...that's some good stuff.

When we arrived at the Sirata, we were greeted by the sweetest woman ever and given the VIP tour of the resort. I have to say I was impressed that the hotel is a green facility on top of having all the bells and whistles of a sea side hotel! I am dying to stay in the one bedroom suite with a separate kids room, complete with bunk beds and built in TV with DVD player. We all agreed that the poolside cabanas were one of our hands down favorite amenities - guaranteed to make us feel like we were embracing our inner rockstars. Everything there just screamed beach vacation and the fam and I are heading back to stay for a few nights in October to soak up what's left of our long Florida summer.

And what proper trip to St Petersburg beach would it be without chowing on a scrumptious Grouper sandwich. The Compass Grille did not disappoint. Our bellies were bulging way too much after that meal to lounge in the sand so we head back to Century Buick to turn in our car and return to reality.

This day was special in many ways. Tara drove form the other coast to spend the day with Kara and I. The Sirata is where Tara was married 10 years ago. I decided on a quick stay-cation spot for my family. And in that short time frame, the three of us managed to have some of those talks that make you laugh, cry and think-so-hard-your-brain-hurts all in one moment.

Love my girls. Loved our day.

Feeling Regal

2010-09-22T07:51:00.005-04:00

What would you say if you were offered a brand new car for a day and free lunch with your besties...at the beach?

Sounds like a strange question, right? Well, this was the very question presented to me a few weeks back and I had no hesitation in saying, "YES!"

Monday morning, I loaded up with Tara and Kara and headed down to Century Buick. Upon arriving we had no idea what was in store for us. We toured the facility and all I can say is it took us about 30 minutes to pick our chins up off the floor! This place is not your run of the mill car dealership - they really designed everything with mamas in mind.

First things first, this place is clean...and we even checked the bathrooms! Clean. The list of amenities to enjoy while you are having your car serviced is outstanding: separate kids area with TVs, cafe with free coffee and wi fi, nail salon, hair salon, gym and movie theater. The three of us kept shaking our heads and saying, "what?!" They really thought of everything a mom waiting with her kids would need to have a comfortable wait.

After we thought we had seen it all they pulled around the new Buick Regal, so we could cruise down to the shore in style. We were all surprised by how sassy this little sedan was with it's giant trunk, leather seats, satellite radio, sleek interior and smooth, zippy ride. I was the lucky one who got to actually drive and dare I say it was even relaxing to drive this car? I found myself just cruising along like I owned the thing, not worrying one bit that this baby belonged to the dealership.

We were off and on our way to the Sirata. More on that soon...

Beach Dreamin'

2010-09-17T08:54:00.006-04:00

Oh, hell yes. We went to the beach.

When I took this picture I said, "this one is going to slay me." I was right!

For some time now I have been craving a late summer afternoon at the beach. A lazy afternoon of small fries splashing in the ocean, collecting shells and feeling the sticky salt dry on my skin while I lounge in the sun. Oh, and of course, the magic.

There is something magical about the beach; fruit tastes sweeter, ocean waves lull you and time seems to stand still. People are extra friendly, as if everyone is joined in a communion of sea side bliss, a sisterhood of sandy toes.

While the mommyistas could have basked until the sun set, the little guys were ready to get some ice cream and call it day. We crossed the strip for some cold cones and candy before getting all 5 shell encrusted bodies back into 5 car seats in my SUV. The day was perfection personified.

I had to open a tab at the ice cream shop due to my little sticky fingers, sugar freak!

As close as we could come to a group photo.

Leap of Faith

2010-09-15T08:19:00.004-04:00

Are all the conditions ever perfect for taking a leap of faith?

If that were the case the faith part would be irrelevant. Faith is trusting in the unknown, something that is intangible and believing in what you cannot see. And I have to give props to God for those words since I am doing some biblical paraphrasing. Trusting yourself and your instincts enough to jump, faith first, into a situation stirs up a lot of questions and self doubt. This is why friends who are not married will ask, "How did you know Jeff was 'the one'?" or a friend who is thinking of getting pregnant wonders, "When did you know you were ready to have kids?"

The truth is, with questions like these, you can never really know. There are no variables to test your hypothesis against, just that crazy pounding of your heart in your chest that makes you feel like you simply cannot do things any other way. It is your own personal brand of knowing.

It is that feeling, that sense of knowing, that I have always had about adoption - I know it's for me. This dream has been on my heart for a long time and each time a friend of mine has experienced adopting a child (and in some case children!) I have felt my heart swell with the possibility. The subject is one my husband and I revisit every so often, but so far the stars have not aligned.

{My friends, The Stephens. They adopted Cecelia almost two years ago.}

Then Jeff said something the other day that made me realize the probability of adoption becoming a reality in our life. I had mentioned that lately the thought had really been knocking on my heart again, asking me to open it up and let someone in. And although I know most of you don't speak Jeff, I do and I knew exactly what this statement signified. He said, "Look around and if you find one you like we'll talk about it." Try not to be mortified that at face value it sounds like he is talking about the purchase of a new car and allow me to translate.

What he said and what he meant were two different things - as they usually are in his case - but like I said, I speak his language so I comprehend. The sentiment behind his response was...I feel the same way, it's something I want too, maybe we should take the next steps. See? Now isn't that better?

Even the possibility makes me giddy.

Labor Day, Part 3: The Conclusion

2010-09-13T15:07:00.004-04:00

If life were a giant, all-you-can-eat buffet, what would you keep piling on your plate?

I would keep coming back for more time with loved ones, creative energy, lingering days, teeny tiny kisses from my kids, spontaneous trips and cupcakes. I would get seriously greedy and load up so many plates that I would need a meal cart to push them back to my table before devouring every delicious bite. It's no doubt why my Labor Day weekend made such an impression on me - it was filled to the brim with all of these delectable treats life has to offer. Between time with friends, my table and the cupcakes my head was spinning from pure joy. But amiss all this joy was a simple lesson that would make an extraordinary difference. I needed to have "the break-up talk" with some parts of myself; it was necessary if I was going to be free.

Why wouldn't I want to break-up with fear and control? After all, they are such bitches. I noticed them hanging around when I was remaking the table and again when I was sewing, I kept second guessing myself before even starting. The fear that I would mess up or do something wrong was paralyzing me. This was a new feeling. I had never really struggled with these things before. (As you know, I am not Type-A.)

I started to see all the aspects of my life where I allow Fear and Control to sit on my shoulder and whisper in my ear - my house, raising children, self-expression - and I felt a super hot shower coming on. I needed to do something to rid myself of F & C because once you have that stench on you it's hard to scrub it off. These were not traits I was going to allow to be part of the definition of who I am.

I decided the only logical way to deal with such a problem is to swing the pendulum over to reckless abandon and dive into my projects and my family, leaving F & C in my dust. And you know what? It felt good. No, it felt soooo good. Who am I kidding? It felt freaking fantastic! It was like coming up for air after struggling to breath underwater.

Relief. Freedom. Emancipation.

Thank you Labor Day.

Labor Day, Part 2

2010-09-09T13:38:00.007-04:00

Friday set the bar pretty high for Labor Day weekend. I was glad that the weekend held a nicely balanced agenda - not too much running from here to there, but enough to keep us on our toes, but still allowing time for taking pleasure in some no-rush activities such as feeding the fish in our neighborhood lake. (Well, more like a glorified man-made pond, but lake sounds so much more rustic and exciting.)

There is something about a pine needle path that screams wilderness! PS Will I ever get this child to give up that pacifier?

Watching the small fish gobble up our bread crumbs. Oh, and don't think their's a smudge on your computer screen...Easton has green marker behind his ear.

I swear they could do this for hours. The only thing that excites these boys more than feeding fish is when our local alligator paddles up to the side of the dock and stares us boldly in the face. While this is a thrill for them, it sends shivers down my spine and has me ready to run off the dock and jump in the car! That gator has no fear for humans. So not cool.

After taking all we could take of the rising humidity we trekked back to the house to shower up for precious Henry's 2nd birthday party! Now, I have grumbled before about living in a two story house, but there is one advantage of a double decker home that I think is just heavenly: the smell of something delicious wafting up to the second floor. Yes, just like hot air rises, so does the glorious smell of strawberry cupcakes baking in a warm oven. And as I was rinsing off my sweat and fear of alligators the scrumptious waves were creeping into the shower with me and it made me love my two story house for those 10 minutes. Mmmm...cupcakes.

Speaking of cupcakes, check out these adorable Cookie Monster cupcakes from H2's b-day bash!

Mama Heather (pictured center) sure knows how to throw a bash! Aside from being stunningly beautiful, she hosts blowout parties that all the kids go bonkers for! Her Cookie Monster theme was precious - and I swore snapped more shots of the details but they were nowhere to be found when I went through my pictures. Hmm? Must have been those yummy drinks from the pitcher labeled "adults only, please." Also pictured is my friend, Mary, who I don't see that often since she lives in California but when we get together it's like a large fry from McDonalds - fat, greasy and awesome! Not to mention that she dropped the bomb that her and her family may be moving to Nashville the same time as us. What, what?! I cannot even bare the thought of how hard this would rock!

All this aside, Labor Day came with some unexpected life lessons and enlightening moments that I wasn't expecting. More on that in Labor Day, Part 3: The Conclusion.

PS I also finished my book club book, The Book Thief. So good! Then I watched the trailer for the movie (which I had no idea about!) and am ready to buy my ticket.

Plans, Shmans!

2010-09-08T06:37:00.003-04:00

(No one wanted garbage duty...until week two rolled around.)

Sticking to my 6:00AM wake up call has been going better than I anticipated. Just like each time I start something new, I begin to get used to it and think, "it's not so bad." I am not a person who hits the ground running, I like to ease into my morning with a steaming cup of coffee, lounging in my pajamas. The quiet house gives me time to think, process, write and -gasp!- exercise. OK, so the exercise part doesn't always happen...

This morning the alarm went off like any other and I rolled myself out of bed and began to tip toe down the hall. As I made my way out into the darkness I was practically blinded by the light squeaking out from under Parker's door. Huh? My initial feeling was disappointment - this is supposed to be my super sacred special, all-to-me, morning time! Then I remembered, nothing is sacred in a house with two toddlers.

When I opened Parker's door I found him quietly playing on his floor and invited him downstairs with me. As we were giggling in the dark of the kitchen, fumbling for the lights and staring at the wonder of his new glow in the dark skeleton pajamas I felt that initial disappointment melt right off me.

I remembered that sometimes it is best when things do not go as planned. After all, isn't this usually how the best memories are made? When I was in college, every summer, I worked at a summer camp. Each week a "job board" was posted with each person's name and weekly responsibilities, and at first, no one wanted garbage duty. Who would want to drive around collecting all the garbage from an entire camp ground? But by the time week two rolled around, people were secretly hoping to have their name next to "Garbage Duty." Why? Because week one's garbage runners made it look so fun. They embraced the job and got completely filthy, throwing trash at one another and jumping into the dumpsters like olympic poll vaulters; nothing a hot shower wouldn't cure.

So this morning I was reminded that as Parker grows older, he will most likely want to sleep to noon as teenagers do and I will long for the days of 6:00AM kitchen giggles and glow in the dark jammies. I will look back and see the two of us standing in the dark and be flooded with joy that we were making happy memories, not disappointment that my morning did not go as planned. Plans, shmans! This morning may not have started out how I expected but it turned out to be exactly what I needed.

Labor Day, Part 1

2010-09-07T10:00:00.008-04:00

My Labor Day weekend can be summed up by a can of blue spray paint, much needed time with dear friends, lots of delicious food and lazy afternoons with the small fries. Preceding this happy weekend was the feeling of something stirring in me. It has been lingering for the past week. This feeling has emerged as a glorious overdose of Living Inspired that has taken hold and can't say I am anything but delighted to be captive in its grip. It all started last Monday when Holly invited me over to make a dress ( a post for later this week) and has since led me down a road of much needed creative therapy.

If you are a creative person than you know that doing something with your hands is like breathing, without it you will wither away. But when you are flexing those creative muscles you feel that life force surging through your veins - it is that *thing* that makes you feel the most alive. Are you feelin' me? If you are not a creative person, this paragraph only confirms what you have thought all along: those creative types are weirdos.

Inspiration can happen anywhere and on Friday it began over eggs and crepes with my sweet friend, Yvette. I had a hall pass for the day since the kids were with my parents. I was presented with the conundrum of a free day: to be product or to be leisurely. I wrestled with my options for a while and chose to indeed be leisurely.

I met Yvette for brunch and we dove right into day dreaming out loud together, which is the typical path our chats take. We decided that it would be very satisfying to repurpose or make over some inexpensive objects....which took us from toast and coffee to Goodwill.

Yvette picked up a set of chairs and, with her nudging, I decided on a drop-leaf table and mail sorter. Two cans of Ocean Breeze Blue spray paint and a Drimmel tool later I had brand new additions to my home. What a much needed breath of fresh air they are! Oh, and the best part? The expense breaks down a little somethin' like this:

Table - $6
Mail Sorter - $2
Spray Paint -$6

To say this felt good would be an understatement. There is something very therapeutic about using your hands in a positive way. It is emotional, it is tangible, it is addictive. Another facet to the creative mind is that is like a revolving door of ideas, new inspirations and thoughts to be tested will spin through your head at an alarming rate making it seem like you just can't get enough. Lucky for me there was the distraction of a double date with some long time friends.

Tampa folk there are two places you must visit if you have not already.

We started the evening at Independent sipping drinks and catching up at the rapid pace that comes with not seeing someone you love in a long time. It is that need to try and cram anything and everything into an abbreviated time period. As the crowd started to thicken we made our way around the corner to Ella's for some of the most delectable eats I have had in some time. We are already planning a trip back for Soul Food Sunday.

My weekend was off to an amazing start. More to come...

Smilebox

2010-09-02T19:53:00.003-04:00

I have approximately 2,346 pictures on my computer and never a clue what to really do with them aside from print and frame. Kind of like having a closet full of clothes and nothing to wear.

Today I found Smilebox! It does all the dirty work for me when it comes to being creative with my pictures and turning them into something adorable. Here is a collage I made in 2 minutes.

Create your own free photo collage

Live it Green!

2010-09-02T14:58:00.005-04:00

Living green is the responsible thing to do, but for me, it can be really intimidating. I am always searching for tips and ideas that I can reasonably incorporate into my life and home.

Today I found this "Green Guide" from Delicious Living. Viola! It covers everything from pet care to veggies. I feel healthier already!

Secret Recipe

2010-08-31T06:16:00.007-04:00

Ah, the play date. We are in a love/hate kinda thing.

I love that my kids and I get to shake up their routine and experience new things. I hate that play dates can go so south sometimes that they bring me to tears. I love that my children get to build relationships with their peers. I hate the lack of open bar at play dates. But most of all - and I am being super honest here - I hate that first play date with someone I don't know that well. It's not that I don't like getting to know new people, it's just that they're not part of the recipe.

Secret Recipe for a Successful Play Date

70% comfort level with the other mom

20% well behaved children

5% nobody gets hurt/injured

5% everyone keeps their clothes on

Combine all ingredients and mix well before serving.

This recipe has the perfect proportions. Once the amount of comfort level with another mom starts to decrease, you must adjust the amount of the last two ingredients. For example:

40% comfort level with the other mom

20% well behaved children

20% nobody gets hurt/injured

20% everyone keeps their clothes on

{photo from a very successful play date}

It is a very sensitive recipe and the balance can easily be thrown off. As you can see, comfort level is the key ingredient, especially if you have a kid like my Parker who - among other things - tends to get naked at play dates (a post with more on that another day). That comfort level with your mommy counterpart plays a big role in dynamics of a play date. I have been burned a few times. It seems the last few times I have gotten together with someone for the "first time play date" they have decided it is OK to discipline my child. This becomes a sticky situation because our comfort level is well below 50% and I am pretty sure disciplining my child is my job.

Here is what happened on a recent first timer. Allow me to set the scene.

Parker has just thrown a ball at his brother. AT his brother, not TO his brother. Easton's response? Giggles.

Me (sitting down in my spot): "No thank you, Parker. Do not throw the ball at your brother."

Parker throws the ball again, missing his brother. Both boys giggling.

Other Mama (gets up from her spot and walks over to my boys): "Parker, that was mean. It's not nice to throw things at Easton. No more throwing, OK?"

Me (to Other Mama): "Oh my gosh. That happens, like, 100 times a day in my house! My boys are gonna be dodge ball champs one day the way those things fly around."

What I really wanted to say but didn't.

Me: "Um, excuse me. Did you just discipline my child after I already addressed the issue? And did you seriously just use the word 'mean?' Take a seat, sister, I got this."

The boundaries for disciplining a child that is not your own are very clear and the circumstances are distinct. The conditions under which disciplining another person's child is acceptable are:

The child's parent is not looking, is out of the room or unable to discipline their child themselves.

Your comfort level with the other parent is between 70% and 100%.

The child is in danger or is putting another child in danger.

I found myself stewing over this for the rest of the day. Should I have said something? Did I not defend myself or my child enough? Is it really that big of a deal or should I just let it go and never have a play date with her again?

Has this ever happened to anyone else? How do you navigate those awkward situations?

Wireless Love

2010-08-30T07:55:00.005-04:00

{image: Brookstone}

Do you notice how happy this couple seems? It's because they are that happy! And do you know why they are so happy? Two words: wireless headphones.

I am telling you, friends, these puppies will save your marriage. One person - 99% of the time this person will be my husband - can wear these headphones and watch TV while the other is free to enjoy quiet, a book, music or a phone conversation. Glorious! ( Imagine a choir of angels singing hallelujah.)

Kara told me about these and the NEXT DAY they were a member of my household. (Thank you, girl!) You can even put them on your little one's when they crawl into bed just a tad too early in the AM. They get all the thrill of Blue's Clues while you grab a few more minutes of precious shut eye! The possibilities for household peace are endless.

If you are suspicious, noooo, I am not getting paid to blog about this product. I *wish* someone, anyone was paying me anything to blog or share info or spout my 2 cents. But alas, it is just something I found worthy of sharing with all of you. Enjoy!

Bossy the Turtle

2010-08-26T21:00:00.006-04:00

The Boss

Daddy came home with a turtle. He rescued this little guy from the street - he knows better than to bring home a pet turtle! Both the boys were snoozing when the turtle arrived so we decided to keep him on the porch until they woke up.

You can imagine how jazzed they were when they found out there was a real, live turtle on the back porch! I gave them a brief speech about NOT touching the turtle and a 10 minute time limit until we retuned him to the pond around the corner. P-man took the "not touching" part very seriously...to the point that he was stiff arming Poosh to keep him away from the turtle. He kept saying, "No Easton, no touching!" I made the mistake of saying, "easy there, bossy." Parker looked and me and said, "what does bossy mean." There is was: guilt. I instantly felt bad for "name calling" my little guy who was only following my rules. After all, didn't I want him to be a good listener?

So I did what anyone would.

"Oh, Bossy is the turtle's name," I said. His response? "Oh that's right! His name, Bossy."

Peace out, Bossy! Back in his natural habitat...bossing the other turtles around.

Soiree Season

2010-08-24T20:34:00.006-04:00

Last summer I decided I wanted to start a tradition of hosting a summer cocktail party for a small group of friends that my husband and I get together with once a year. My rules: keep it simple, keep it fun and let the good times roll! My first go round was an intimate wine tasting led by my sweet friends Yvette and Jesus*, who own their own wine importing company. This year I wanted to stick to a more casual feel and serve 2 signature cocktails, scrumptious hors de vors and some great dessert - my favorite course!

Lucky for this girl, I have met some pretty amazing women through Mommyista events. So I reached out to Lindsey at Bella Grace Party Design and Ashley at Lemon and Lavender for some professional guidance. They truly capture our tag line, Live Inspired!

All I can say is these women are crazy awesome at what they do! I shot Lindsey an email and she fired back 100 great ideas for food and overall vibe off the top of her gorgeous head! And speaking of gorgeous...Ashley (who is also gorgeous - what is it with these creative women and being so beautiful?) created the invite you see above. This invitation is just what I was looking for -capital S, Stun - Ning!! All I had to do was send her my party vision (well, technically mostly Lindsey's vision) and give her the wording and she whipped-up this invite through her Etsy shop. Now all I have to do is clean my house, cook the food, set-up the party and clean my house again! Word to that.

{*And that's pronounced "Hay-soos", for those of you who don't habla espanol.}

Mombie Nation

2010-08-23T10:37:00.006-04:00

Mombie [mom-bee] n. a mother whose brain has been eaten by her children and no longer thinks as an individual, a woman who has forgotten how to be herself because she is too wrapped up in the role of mother. Hybrid of a mom and a zombie.

You may have crossed paths with a Mombie before. Although a Mombie can be found just about anywhere, there are certain places they seem to congregate more than others. You will see them gather in clusters at parks, exchange phone numbers at the community pool, and worship at their mecca: soccer games. {Disclaimer: not all mothers who participate in these activities or frequent these locations are Mombies. There are some distinct characteristics that will make a Mombie stand out, so you must know the warning signs.} If you happen to find yourself in a situation where you think you may have encountered a Mombie, here are some warning signs to look for.

Signs You Are Face to Face with a Mombie:

She approaches you in an unsubtle manner and immediately starts telling you about her kid(s).

She has a long list of questions about your child.

She enquires about where you have found the best deals on everything from school uniforms to baby bottles to Pull Ups.

Any free moment she has is spent searching the internet for recalls.

She has known you 10 seconds and wants your email so she can set up a play date.

Her entire family has matching crocs.

She works quotes and songs from Yo Gabba Gabba into conversation.

She is carrying a portable training potty with her.

Now that you are hip to the signs you must know another important fact: Just like a true Zombie, they want to eat your brain too! The Mombies are hoping you will join their Nation and carry on lengthy conversations about starting solid foods and sneaking vegetables into meals. They will make you forget you have a personality. They will go vampire on your brain and suck it dry of any memory you had of being an individual, or an adult for that matter. You will no longer be allowed to say, "Oh shit! I left my cell phone on the counter." But instead you will say, "Oh sugar snap peas! Mommy made a boo boo. No phoney phone today." Are you scared yet? You should be.

Beware. Beware the Mombies.

The Whale Incident

2010-08-22T19:56:00.009-04:00

Breakthrough discovery: I don't like to play pretend!

When it comes to playing with my kids I DO like to:

create art with them
read 100 book with them
cuddle on the couch and watch a movie together
venture out into the world on expeditions of fun
build forts
bake cookies and cupcakes and pies

However, playing pretend is such a drag, man! I do not like it in the house. I do not like it with a mouse. I do not like it in the end. I do not like to play pretend! Just the thought of making my plastic dinosaur talk to your plastic dinosaur sounds like torture. Now, I will set up a sweet dinosaur habitat with little trees and mountains and let you play there until your heart's content. But not me, I do not want to roll around on the floor and pretend that our dino village is under attack and dialogue about it...as dinosaurs!

But I still do it. Half-heartily, I will pretend to be Buzz Lightyear making conversation with Woody about this and that. My efforts are pretty lackluster and lame but it keeps my guilt at bay. Then, the Whale Incident.

My boys decided they wanted to turn my living room couch into a boat. Happily, I agreed to make the conversion while shouting things like, "Ahoy, Matey!" and "Shiver me timbers!" Once the boat was complete Parker asked me to swim around in the ocean. Crap. This means roll around on the carpet and pretend. Well, I think, "why not?" and decide that I can handle a few minutes of laying on the floor. Then, my sweet son yells to his brother, "Look, Easton! It's a giant whale!!!" What? Not cool. He even asked me to make whale noises. Double not cool. I told him to heed the warning that no woman ever wants to be called a whale.

Then I rolled around some more making whale noises because I saw

this as a really good guilt-free token. I cashed in it soon after as I sat on the couch, drank a cup of coffee and watched Ellen.

I'm on a Boat!

Bangity Bang

2010-08-18T15:43:00.003-04:00

Sometimes the smallest things can make the biggest difference. I'm not talking about a donation of your old clothes to a women's shelter. I'm talking about: BANGS! Yup, this post is a superficial rant about how much I love my new bangs. With just a few snips of the ole scissors, I have been transformed into a new woman. Here are some facts for better understanding why these bangs are such a welcomed addition to my face.

4 Scientific Facts About My Bangs:

Fact #1: My forehead is so large, I call it a 5 head. Literally, all 5 of my fingers fit comfortably in the 5 head area.

Fact #2: I have some deep wrinkle issues due to some twisted 8th grade thinking.

Fact #3: I love to change my hair. I have vowed to grow it out...and I mean long. Stripper long. No funnin' around, this is a real deal grow out. So since I can't cut my hair, I cut some bangs.

Fact #4: For the first 24 hours after I had the bangs cut, I was walking around singing the "Bangity Bang" song from How I Met Your Mother. (See below, it's brilliant!)

Picture Taker

2010-08-16T12:14:00.008-04:00

Over the weekend I discovered something: photo editing. Apparently my computer comes with an idiot-proof program that can help even the most novice of picture-takers (notice I dare not use the word "photographer") manipulate a snapshot into looking a little cooler than it's original state. I am, in a word, hooked!

I started with these pictures from an outing last week. I wanted to print a "framable" photo for Parker's room since he enjoys looking at pictures of he and his friends so much. And these friends, mmmmm....they are something special! These are the sons of my Mommyista partner in crime, Kara.

My boys are enamored with her precious, precious guys and when we get together to play, it is like a field trip to the corner of Crazy St and Awesome Ave. We are truly moms of some wild boys!

Parker tells me all the time, and I quote, "Davis is my best friend and Lukey is Easton's best friend." He has it all mapped out. Almost every morning Parker wakes up and asks to play with Davis, which is followed by Easton saying, "Luuuuu" which we know is him saying, "Luke."

I so love these boys and the friendship they share. Kara and I have been calling them the Fantastic Four before Luke and Easton were even born! Speaking of Easton, he is not pictured due to the fact that he was being an absolute bear and happened to be attached to my hip as I was snapping these pics. Poor Poosh!

Poosh!

2010-08-12T20:28:00.006-04:00

I have always been a fan of nicknames. Unfortunately, there really is no cool or fun way to abbreviate my name (which my mother did on purpose since she hates nicknames). You can shorten Jennifer to Jen or breakdown Elizabeth into, like, 647 different names but Autumn is just...Autumn. My cousins tried calling me Autie, but let's face it, that is super lame.

There is something intimate and special about a nickname. Although they are not always flattering, nicknames are given with love and speak uniquely to that person. The giving of a nickname is just as important as the receiving and only privileged people get to call you by your nickname.

In our house, nicknames abound. We were calling Parker, "Park Dawg," while he was still in utero - the kid had a nickname before he was even born! In his short 2 1/2 years he has acquired many a nickname. He has been called: P-man, Parky, Bubby, Bubbalicious, 'Licious and Ju Ju, which is one he gave to himself - and called himself- for a period of 3 months. Not to be outdone by his big brother, little Easton has been dubbed: E-man, Easy E, Vitamin E, Brother, E Bay and DJ Cry Cry, because he's always spinning that same record - boo chica hoo hoo!

So just when I thought we had more than enough nicknames to keep up with, Parker bestowed upon his little brother the best one I have heard yet. It started out as one of those cute moments that I run upstairs and write in their journals and ended with my favorite nickname to date. Let me set the scene.

My two little crazies were playing on the floor when Parker reaches over to Easton, gently pinches his cheeks and says, "Easton, you sooooooo poocious!" (pronounced: pooh-shuss) I said, "Don't you mean, 'precious'?" To which he responded, "No Mommy, he poocious." So Poocious was born! And with a face like this, how can you argue he is anything but 100% poocious!?

Of course I have already shortened it to "Poosh"...but that is just how I do!

Naughty Betty

2010-08-10T21:04:00.002-04:00

I am so in love with these witty and stylish products from Naughty Betty! Everything from paper goods to apparel to travel mugs. ANY of these would make a great gift for a birthday (hint, hint!) or even some of the tableware for a hostess gift. Below is one of my faves!

Down Dog Dinosaur

2010-08-09T12:52:00.004-04:00

Yoga is one of my true loves. I think if yoga were personified, yoga would be a woman because of the qualities she possesses. Yoga makes you stronger, challenges you, helps you focus and makes you feel better - many of the qualities I rely on in a friend. Although I don't have as much time as I would like to spend with her, yoga is something I make time for in my week.

I am trying to become a more disciplined person and stick to my goals, so I have been waking up at 6:00AM to have some time with my girl, yoga. (Disclaimer: If I am woken by a child, full bladder or bad dream during the night I reserve the right to cancel my 6:00 alarm. The early rising commitment isn't 100% there yet...I'm working on it. What can I say? I looove sleep!)

It truly is a great way to start off my day. The house is quiet and - if I lock my cat in the laundry room - I am free of interruptions for one blissful hour.

One of my favorite yoga poses is Warrior 3, which is a balance pose. When holding a balance pose it is helpful to find a point to focus on to help you to keep from toppling over. So as I am launching into Warrior 3 this morning I look up to find a focal point and come face to face with this:

My first thought was, Seriously?! But less than a second later I had broken my gaze as well as my attitude. I was falling on to the floor and I was already busting a gut. It was as if those dinosaurs spoke to me and said, "Hey lady! Lighten up." Although I love my yoga I often find myself watching the clock and rushing to make sure I finish before the troops wake. Shouldn't I be savoring and enjoying my time? You would think! I guess some times it takes a plastic dinosaur to get in your face to drive the point home.

Type-A WannaBe and Pepper Chopping 101

2010-08-02T16:04:00.002-04:00

I so wish I was a Type-A personality. I want to multitask and be uber-productive and have everything perfectly organized. I dream of a schedule that is followed and lists with slash marks through all my tasks. It all sounds so heavenly. But truth be told I am just not that motivated to be regimen. I linger. I get sidetracked. I talk to anyone about nothing forever. And according to a good friend's mom I chop green peppers way too slowly. (More on that later.)

I have learned that being Type-A is something that cannot be forced - you are either born with the gene or you're not. Oddly enough, I have the genetic jackpot when it comes to a textbook Type-A personality. My parents are so tireless in their daily efforts that my husband and I have dubbed them "RoboMom and RoboDad," because most humans do not have the stamina they possess. We joke that when they go to bed at night they plug into the matrix and refuel. So how did I end up a lingering, sidetracked blabber mouth who looks at her long list of things to do and thinks, "I should just open a bottle of wine and get to these things tomorrow?" Things just aren't adding up, I need some robot in me too!

This weekend I had another "talk" with myself. One of those inner chats when I deicide it's time to turn over a new leaf and find ways to get the most out of life. I wrote down a list of 4 things I thought I needed more of, it looked like this:

1. Fun

2. Productivity

3. New Experiences

4. Memory Making

It seems as though I am craving these 4 things and believe they are going to bring me closer to feeling an abundance of bliss on a consistent basis. Well, here's hoping anyway! Today was my first stab at incorporating the list into life. #2 made a strong showing - I made a lot of phone calls I had been putting off and took care of some errands. There was a brief attempt at #1 with a trip to the pool but the fun was ended when my 2 1/2 year old refused to get out of the water and a long negotiating-turned-threatening session ensued. (Three peanut butter crackers and two stickers later we made it home.) All in all, I am off to a decent start! My list may not turn me into a Type-A personality but it will hopefully be a reminder of what I am capable of realistically fitting into my life.

Oh, so the green peppers! Way back when, in the college days, I was at my dear friend K's house to watch a football game with her family. At the time I was dating her brother and in an attempt to make a good impression on the mom I offered to help with food preparation.

Side note: you should know that both K and her mom put the "A" in Type-A!

So she hands me a knife, cutting board and a green pepper and instructs me to dice the pepper. In the time it takes me to chop one pepper, K and mom have practically completed preparing the entire meal! Mom turns to me and says, "Autumn, if you're ever gonna keep up in this family you're going to have to move a lot faster than that!"

Project Mom Casting

2010-07-26T22:22:00.005-04:00

When I was growing up my life's ambition was not to be a mom but a cast member on Saturday Night Live. I would tape (on VHS) each episode, memorize the sketches and perform them for my family. I love to laugh to make others laugh almost as much as I love to laugh myself. Well, as of present day, I have yet to join the ranks of SNL fame. However, I have accomplished what I consider a close second ( I kid, I kid) and have birthed two delightfully mischievous boys. It is serious hard work and they are seriously crazy.

I started the Mommyista blog when I was pregnant with my second child; it was a much needed outlet to throw down what was eating at me on any given day. Remember when I said I love to laugh? Well, it seemed I had spent a lot of time in tears for the first year of my son's life and it was time for a change. Before I had kids I somehow had the impression that it was no big thang to be a parent. Who served me that Kool Aid? After my reality check that I was never, ever going to get everything right I adopted the motto: "Why lament when you can laugh?"

Parenting is so much better when you don't take every move you make so seriously. It seems that in place of acting out sketches for a live television show, I ended up living in a never ending comedy sketch. I hope that my perspective gives other moms the opportunity to laugh at themselves and move through parenthood with a little more spring in their step!

(This is my submission for a casting call for a show called, "Project Mom." Feel free to show your love with comments, forwards and whatnots!)

Good-Listening Hypnosis

2010-07-20T12:46:00.003-04:00

I swear that if someone were to offer a hypnosis session that promised to make my kids listen to me I would pay them a small fortune. Of course, there would have to be a 100% money back guarantee before I would completely jump in, but I really think that's all it would take.

It goes without saying that kids are going to challenge adults and attempt to do what they want and rebel. I get that. However, I spend what feels like the entire day redirecting "wrong choices." Well, if I am being honest, I...

redirect wrong choices
give gentle reminders of what are right choices
count to 3
start to talk sternly
begin to beg and plead
wheel and deal
use my best negotiation tactics

You can see where this is going. My tank starts out on full, begins to sputter and eventually runs out of gas. I feel like I am running a discipline marathon. Enter hypnotist!

It is a fantastic fantasy to think that I would say things like; "Share with your brother," and sharing would indeed follow or "Don't eat those raisins off the ground," and the raisins would never reach my child's mouth. The possibilities are endless! So much obedience seems like a luxury. Oh, I see how some would call good-listener hypnosis unethical and blah, blah, blah, but maybe I will have them hypnotized as well and the result will be they think I am awesome!

Reclaiming the Booty

2010-07-15T14:09:00.002-04:00

Below is an article I submitted for publication. Guess what? I got my first rejection letter! I am officially a legitimate writer with a legitimate rejection letter. So enjoy for yourself, or feel free to reject it. It's up to you.

Body image is a term that emerged to give women a platform to do what they have been doing for years: complaining about their looks. Those two little words started to gain popularity in the mid-1990’s and it seemed as if we might be set free from spending an excessive amount of time thinking about how much our booty jiggles. Turns out, it was just semantics.

I think the root of the term, “body image,” is based in something noble and well-meaning. It was a way for women to examine not only how they feel about their bodies and their physical appearance but also to examine why it was they might like or dislike certain things about their appearance. Whether they say it out loud or in the back of their mind, women can usually find something about their their looks that they wish was different. Maybe you feel insecure in a bathing suit because all you see is thin models in 99% of magazines. Perhaps you only wear long pants because some idiot guy in high school told you that you have fat calves. Where there is dissatisfaction with one’s body, there is a reason behind that feeling. The most obvious and terrible thing our culture does is poison the brains of females (starting at, well, birth) with the idea that there are certain parameters of beauty to be adhered to in order to look beautiful or desirable. Body Image tried to step in and be a saving grace from all this madness. How are all the wonderful women in this wide world supposed to look just one way? It’s absolutely inconceivable, yet the pressure to stay within the cultural parameters is perpetuating with each generation. Come on Body Image, throw us a bone! Perhaps what Body Image did was give us the moxie to say, “I don’t care what you think I should look like – I AM beautiful!” But saying it and meaning it are two different things.

Dealing, understanding or struggling to accept your body can take up a lot of mental energy on just a normal Tuesday, but toss a pregnancy into the mix and you have a whole other beast. Every part of your body –from the inside out- starts to shift and bulge and swell and stretch until you can hardly remember what things looked like in the first place! However, most women I know say that they love how their body looks when pregnant. Even though things are all out of proportion, the nobility and love seem to give us some really marvelous body image! It was the glowing skin that won me over. In addition to being proud of what my body was creating, I would look in the mirror and think, “my skin looks like a million bucks!” Sure, some days I felt uncomfortable and large, but I never once felt ugly or unattractive. As the pregnancy continued and my body expanded, so did my understanding of how captive I have been to the strong hold of vanity. About half way through my first pregnancy I decided it was time to toss vanity out the window. In some ways your body becomes a public domain when you are pregnant. Strangers stare at your belly and some even dare to touch! (I once had a cashier at Dunkin Donuts actually leap over the counter to rub my baby bump.) The multiple visits to the doctor can really help in the vanity department as well. Each visit there is a set of eyes and hands poking, measuring and listening to your lower half. Although I know doctors are professionals and they are looking at my body in a purely medical sense, it doesn’t stop me from lying in the exam room thinking, “I did shave, right? I’m pretty sure I shaved. Oh crap…I think I forgot to shave! No, no, I shaved, I’m sure. I think.” No wonder when my husband asked me what the doctor had said at my visit I couldn’t remember!

But a doctor’s exam room is only a precursor to the labor and delivery room. Any shred of vanity or insecurity I had left was about to get a swift kick in the behind. Everything from my nose to my toes was on display for the world to see. People were looking and poking at all the parts I work so hard to keep under raps the vast majority of the time. At that point, however, I did not care, I was just ready to get that baby out! Then once that wonderful dumpling finally came out I was so happy and overjoyed and filled with love. In that post-delivery fog, I was so overwhelmed and tired that I was not even thinking about what my body may or may not look like. Then I took my first shower. That’s where I met my nemesis: my postpartum body.

I remember looking in the mirror and shaking that bowl full of jelly called my stomach. I knew it was going to take some time for the swelling to go down – I mean, my uterus had been stretched to 3,000 times its normal size, after all – but it still was not so easy to love what I saw. That vanity I had thrown out the window a few months back must have had a boomerang effect, because it just flew back in and slapped me in the face. As the weeks marched on the stomach didn’t seem to be shrinking as fast as I would have liked. How much longer was I going to moan about how I looked? I was starting to annoy myself. I had spent the past 9 months slowly morphing into Shrek, then given birth, recovered from giving birth, I was suffering through sleep depravation, learning how to care for another human who can do nothing for himself and now this? Now I had to be all loosey goosey and watch my body become more like a foreign object? Where is the justice in this situation? I felt like it was my right to slide back into my pre-pregnancy jeans and be able to zip-up without contorting my body. Can’t Mother Nature break me off something? Please! Honestly, I did not think this was too much to ask. As if this wasn’t enough of a bummer, I started to notice a great deal of shame creeping into my thoughts as well. After all, not being able to fit into my jeans would not classify as a real problem, it was merely a disappointment. Shouldn’t I be grateful that I had a healthy child and made it through a cesarean section with no complications? Maybe I should have been celebrating every ounce of extra skin and fat on my body and count them as blessings.

There were those days when I would think that this is just the way it is after you have a baby, accept it and move on. And then there was one clear day, when the uterus and the booty were looking smaller and I felt good. So good, in fact, that I decided to slip on a new sundress I had bought to announce to the world that my body didn’t look so postpartum anymore. On this day I was going to a friend’s house so our children could play together. We walked into her house and the first thing her sweet two year old daughter said was, “Miss Autumn, you have a big belly.” I knew deep down that she meant no harm but it didn’t make it sting any less. I felt that if a child is saying this out loud, what are all the polite adults thinking and not saying? Oh the shame went on for some time, accompanied by baggy shirts and lots of make up to draw the eye upward towards my face. I starting thinking those things that I was not supposed to say out loud for fear of appearing vain. Why was it so wrong to say what I was feeling? I wanted my body to belong to me again and I wanted it to be the body that I liked and felt comfortable in! I had gladly given my body over to my children for 9 plus months and now I was seeking to reclaim it for myself. So why was I trying to act like it was no big deal?

It seems that when we become mothers we are supposed to shift our focus to children as number one priority and not care about things as small and as vain as our looks, because if we do then we are bad or self-centered or shallow. Well guess what? I like to look good! It makes me feel good and it does not mean I care any less about my kids. Coming to grips with the honest reasons I wanted to loose the weight were a bigger struggle than actually loosing the weight. I kept trying to play it off like it was something it wasn’t, when really I was too worried what my friends would think if I said “I wish my stomach was flat.” I am sure if Body Image were here she would shake her finger at me and say, “tisk, tisk,” but she is seriously on my last nerve.

Every mother needs something that is all hers; a hobby, spirituality, downtime. For me, one of those things is exercising to maintain a figure. Sure, exercise has great benefits and that is part of why I do it, but it is a small part. The real reason is because I want to feel good about my body and that is the only way I know how. I sacrifice a lot of personal stuff for my family - that is the choice I made when I became a parent and I do it with an open heart. I need something that is not to benefit anyone but me and when I don’t get that I sure get cranky.

All Sticky

2010-07-12T13:39:00.003-04:00

I am a trusting person by design. Overall, I tend to think that the majority of people are truly good at heart and that most unpleasant situations will turn out sunny side up. Although this is not always true I still seem to never learn from some mistakes - like trusting my 2 1/2 year old to be a good decision maker when I am not looking. I am beginning to think I am straight crazy because all he has to do is give me a sweet look and I think, "He really means it this time. He's going to do as I say." Ummm...no. He's not. The child is 2 and will conceded to mischief every time.

Before I set the scene from this morning, allow me to give you a little back story. I live in a two story house which can be problematic on many levels (no pun intended), especially when you have small children. For one thing, everything that you need downstairs somehow is always upstairs. However, the biggest problem with having the two stories is that the kids cannot be left alone on one floor while I am on the other, so we must travel in a pack like migrating birds every time we need to brush our teeth. The schlepping is exhausting but it is just part of life in this house.

This morning's incident started off as a nice gesture. My little guys decided they wanted to take Daddy some muffins and juice for breakfast. Well, Daddy's office is upstairs so that meant we make the ascent as a team and deliver breakfast. Since my children are not really allowed upstairs all that much, that means they want to be up there... All. The. Time. Once they are upstairs it is like pulling a hair off a bar of soap to get them down. Usually I have to take them down -kicking and screaming - one by one. So when my 2 year old said he wanted to "work upstairs like Daddy," with his calculator in hand and a sweet little look on his face, I believed him. I thought to myself, "he's getting closer to 3, he'll be OK, I trust him." Man, am I a sucker!

After about 5 minutes of complete silence I had a nagging urge to check on him. First, I took the lazy route and shouted upstairs, "what are you doooooing?" No response. Time to climb all 18 stairs and see for myself what was so engrossing that he could not respond to my call. I found him in my bathroom, stripped down to underwear, covering himself from shoulders to feet in my foundation. An entire tube of foundation in "fair" was dripping off his knees and onto my white floor mat. I stood there and stared for a minute before saying anything, wondering how I could have been so naive. He looked up at me with a huge smile and said, "Mommy, I all sticky."

I washed up sticky and tried not to think about all the money that literally just slid down the drain. He doesn't understand why this would upset me so what good would it do for me to get all worked up? Life will go on. The stores will keep selling foundation and I will keep trusting my son.

Ya Big Bully!

2010-07-07T13:38:00.003-04:00

For a few years now my father has been using the quote, "Your perception becomes your reality." Typically, I like to roll my eyes when my dad says things like that, but the other night I heard the phrase slip past my lips during a conversation with friends. I could hardly believe I was using that quote to make my point. I am sure one of my friends was rolling their eyes at me when I wasn't looking.

Don't worry, this is not a post about how we inevitably become like our parents because I really don't believe that to be true. (However, that is possibly and interesting post for another day, so stay tuned.) The topic of conversation at the dinner table last week was bullying. Our discussion revolved around the question: would you rather have your kid do the bullying or have your kid be bullied? The obvious answer is, you would want you kid to neither bully nor be the victim of bullying, but it is likely that at some point one or the other will happen.

Of the mothers at the table, none of us have children who have really been exposed to what you would consider serious bullying, but some of the kids have been picked-on to a noticeable point. And, some of us (myself included) have the more aggressive kids who are the ones hurting other kids at pay dates. As a parent, your heart breaks when you see your child being picked-on, hurt or rejected. You also want to curl up in the corner when your child is the one who bites, hits and throws toys at his peers. No matter which end you are on, you seem to think the grass is greener on the other person's side. This is when I realized that whatever we experience is all we can honestly relate to, or "your perception becomes your reality."

As our conversation ended, we all came to the conclusion that the bottom line was, it sucks to be on either side. No mother wants to see her child suffer and at the same time, no parent wants to have that kid labeled, "bully." As a mother, I value these conversations for the eye-opening effect they can have on how someone on the opposing end of a situation can feel. I feel fortunate that I can talk honestly and feel safe to disagree with my friends on subjects that matter. So thanks, ladies of book club, for a delicious dinner and smart conversation!

The Rules Have Changed

2010-06-28T15:37:00.004-04:00

Right now my toes are sporting the "Christmas in June" look. If you are not sure what I mean, I want you to reference your Grandmother's Christmas tree ornaments. You know those glass ones painted with enamel? Remember how year after year the missing chips of enamel would become larger? Why didn't she ever throw those out and buy a new box?

That is what is happening with my toenails, the enamel is chipping off more each day and instead of repainting, I allow it to get to the point where there is more nail showing than polish. Grody. Grody to the max.

Before the kids hit the scene, I would have a relaxing pedicure twice a month. Every other Friday, like clockwork, I would plop down in the massaging chair, latte in hand and thumb through a magazine while some sweet woman scrubbed my feet within an inch of my life. How fabulous! But in an effort to save time and money, these days I am the woman and my scrubbing skills are lacking. Sometimes I convince myself that if I trim the nail and push back the cuticle, it will "revive" the polish and my homegrown pedi won't look so bad. Notsomuch. These puppies are way more shabby than chic! (If you think I am exaggerating, please scroll down to see a picture of said Christmas ornament nails for yourself. But be warned, these images are not for the faint.)

It occurred to me how many unwritten rules I had for myself before children came into my life. When free time abounded and I had no one else to really consider aside from me, I had lots of time for staying within the boundaries of my rules. Once those small fries come along, the rules sure do change. Here are a few examples.

Old Rule			New Rule

Always have keep a fresh pedicure.			Try and remember to clean feet when showering.


Never leave the house without makeup.			If you have showered in the last 24 hours it counts as clean.


Put thought and care into your			Do these pants fit? Does this shirt match? Score.
wardrobe and accessories.

Highlights and trim every 6 weeks.			Cover the grays every 4 weeks.

Exercise at least 30 minutes,			Cleaning the house counts as a workout.
4 times a week.

As much as this rule shift makes me seem like a complete slob, I actually feel better. It's very freeing to toss some vanity out the window. It would be nice if I felt as put together (and clean) as I once did, but these days there are more important things on my plate. At any rate, the toenails are still pure neglect.

Stronger, Smarter, Different

2010-06-21T14:25:00.002-04:00

Every woman has a story. A story of something we have experienced that has made us a stronger person, a smarter person, a different person. Some stories are more serious than others and some don't end too happy, but there is something all women's stories have in common - they are powerful.

I was recently spending time with three wonderful women, having what was a pretty ordinary discussion. Over the course of our time together some of our stories were shared in a surprisingly casual way. The stories I will keep private, but the general idea I will give you. Three out of the four women having this conversation had been in an abusive relationship in the past.

We often hear these stories of women in the news - abducted, abused, murdered - and shake our heads in horror of what is happening. Now that Natalee Holloway's story is back in the news, I have heard a few people say things like, "be glad you don't have girls...you don't have to worry about things like this." While I understand their sentiment, I have a big problem with statements like these.

I have written before about being a mom of boys and how it can be quite difficult to live with their crazy energy but just because I am not raising a girl does not mean I am off the hook with the above mentioned situations. As a parent of boys it is important to teach them that this is not how a man should act! It goes beyond saying things like, "treat women with respect," that is too vanilla. These things need to be laid out for boys and young men, they need to be told:

You never have sex with a woman who is unwilling.
You never put a drug in another person's drink.
You never, ever hurt a woman - with your hands or your words.

Boys need to know that they are worth more than these acts against women. Males need to be held accountable for abuse if we are going to see a change. Why not start with our young boys by talking to them specifically about how they are to act in dating situations? I understand that it takes a lot more than just talk to drive this point home to our boys - the wrong messages are not going anywhere soon - but we have to start somewhere.

Murderer of Fun

2010-06-15T14:08:00.005-04:00

As much as I like to think my name hangs in the ranks of the "super cool mom" hall of fame, I can tend to be pretty uptight about the way I run my household. Do I have lots of strict rules? Not so much. Do I like things to maintain a certain level or order and cleanliness? Yes, I do. So you can see how life with two small boys and one large man-child can often times put a kink in my design aesthetic.

As you may have read in a previous post, our house is for sale. And as you may know, in the Florida housing market, getting a showing is like having a really good hair day - they come along once in awhile and you have to work it big time! The added pressure of having to keep my house picture perfect only adds fuel to my orderly fire. I often find myself in a frenzied attempt to keep the playroom floor clean only to walk into the kitchen and find smashed goldfish all over the tile. To say I am spinning my wheels would be an

understatement.

It occurred to me last week that I have allowed my fixation on a tidy house knock me down the ranks on the "super cool mom" hall of fame to a lowly status of "murderer of fun." It happened on Wednesday afternoon. We had a showing coming up in the next few days and while the rest of the house was gleaming, my husband and kids decide to erect this fort in my living room.

My initial gut reaction was to let the wrath of my fury unload on their shanty town as I tore it down like a maniac...thankfully I paused before proceeding. In that moment I saw how much fun they were having - they thought this fort was fantastic! They were so happy. It was one of those pure joys in life that you don't get much as an adult but can enjoy through watching your kids. How close I came to murdering that fun. And for what? A spotless house? There was plenty of time to romp in the fort before the showing and it wouldn't be that hard to take down. Or should I say it won't be that hard for my husband to take down.

Boys v. Birds

2010-06-03T08:45:00.004-04:00

There is a strange phenomenon that takes place in my house whenever I fix myself something to eat. My two children suddenly forget they are little boys and take on the characteristics of baby birds. They swarm around my chair, mouths open wide. Suddenly at a loss for words they bounce around with open beaks, emitting tiny sounds of hunger. Even stranger is when they assume the likeness of baby birds, they are not just ordinary baby birds, they are desperately ravenous baby birds, whose lives clearly depend on bites from my plate. It has gotten to the point where I will do almost anything just to eat my breakfast in peace.

Sharing my food with them is not what bothers me - I'm not a Joey Tribbiani (Friends reference: "Joey doesn't share his food!") - it's the underlying idea that mom is always on call and must yield to the desires of the family first. What the family seems to have overlooked is not only did I shop for and prepare that food but I also fed them FIRST, before I even thought about making myself a plate. So it is hard for me to believe that they could actually still be hungry! Is it just the fact that they want something because I have it? Does it look more delicious on my plate? Or have they been sneaking into on another's rooms in the wee hours to concoct a diabolical plan to make sure I never eat an un-interupted meal again? I think it's the diabolical plan one...I'm just sayin'.

The other day I realized they needed to understand that Mom deserves a peaceful meal too. So I decided to come up with a plan of my own. I have begun to try new things in hopes that they will start to think that begging for my food is a bad idea. I tried playing nice and making them a small snack to eat while I am eating, but since it did not come from my plate or look like the food on my plate, they dismissed it and went right back into baby bird mode. So I had to get a little more creative. For instance, I burn a small portion of my eggs so when they beg, that's the piece I give them to eat. Or I tell them, "This is Mommy food. If you eat this you will turn into a Mommy." You know, things like that.

What about you all? What tactics have you come up with to glean a few moments of much needed peace?

Mama Like

2010-05-24T18:58:00.007-04:00

By technicality it is Spring, but if you live in Florida -like I do - you know that it is full on summer. Maybe it's the way I work up a sweat at 9:00am from putting kids into their car seats that tipped me off, but trust me when I say, "summer has arrived."

Aside from the heat, summer brings beach trips, weddings and backyard barbecues. To celebrate the change of season I like to pick up a few

new things that scream summer. One of my go-to summer wardrobe staples is easy sundresses. They need to be non fussy and lightweight to hold up against daily mom life. Here are a few that I found on Ruche:

As far as a catch all bag for beach trips or long afternoons at the pool, I turn to

my old reliable Laci Jean! Her latest Fannie Bag is the perfect size for sippy cups, camera and a beachside novel. The best part: it's totally washable!

I even came across the cutest gift for those weddings I have to attend. You can find this

stylish and unique gift on One Reverie's Etsy shop.

People

2010-05-19T22:09:00.001-04:00

People watching is emotional. It sounds dramatic, but allow me to plead my case. I mentioned in my recent post about my trip to Disney World, that the people watching was awesome. Here is what I realized as I watched thousands of fun seekers roam the Magic Kingdom.

In one way, people watching is like therapy; as others pass by bleeding their personality downfalls via their fashion statements one can start to feel a little better about one's self. For example, a grown man ( who does not appear to be farming or painting) strolls by in a pair of denim overalls and you get a sudden boost in self-confidence. I think to myself, "if this man has the cajones to walk around in public in such a fashion atrocity, then these pants probably don't make my butt look as big as I thought!" This is the positive side of the sport.

The flip side to people watching is that, if you are not cautious, it can toss you into a fit of rage! Seeing someone wearing something that is utterly preposterous can really ruffle my feathers. I know that these things really should not and do not matter, but I would be lying if I said it didn't get the best of me on occasion. And this trip to Disney was one of those occasions.

So to all the people out there who I passed on the way to the monorail, who I stood behind for 20 minutes while waiting to ride the tea cups and who pushed up on me while trying to buy a twist ice cream cone...this one's for you.

Ladies:

Just because you are in Florida does not mean you can wear your bathing suit everywhere. Cover up or not, unless you are at the beach or by the pool, regular, everyday street clothes are going to be just fine.
4" heels + mini skirt + stroller [does not] = a fun day of walking and climbing in and out of roller coasters.
If your hair is hanging down to your waist and it is 98 degrees, with 100% humidity, it makes me hot to even look at you.
Placing Mickey Mouse stickers on your shirt to look like boobs is not cute.

Men:

Just because you are in Florida does not mean you can walk around with your shirt off. (See above note to women and bathing suits.)
Go heavy on the deoderant when you are going to be in such close proximity of strangers.
Socks and sandals are like oil and water - they do not mix.
The obnoxious saying on your tee shirt is probably better left unsaid.

Couples:

Families in matching outfits - I will not berate you too much because, yes, I do see the practicality - just consider this a warning.
Is it really necessary to make out the entire time you are waiting your turn to buy ice cream? Is it?
Holding hands is OK. Walking around with your hands in one another's back pockets? You're most likely going to fall over because it looks like you are having a really hard time balancing with one arm stretched so far into the pocket of your significant other.

There. I've said my peace.

Interesting fact: tomorrow I am off to...another amusement park.

An Un-Magical Trip

2010-05-16T21:32:00.000-04:00

Proof that my 2 year old son is the ultimate hater: he begged to leave Disney World.

Claiming to be "the happiest place on earth," Disney World is usually a place that children beg TO go, not a place they beg to leave. But from the moment he stepped foot in the Magic Kingdom, Parker had a quite un-magical experience. Yes, it was hot. Yes, it was crowed. But what you need to understand about my child is that, while these factors did not make the experience any better, they really played no part in his plea to "go back to [his] house and play cars!"

I wanted desperately for this trip to be the quintessential Disney experience - complete with over-excited toddler cheering with joy and waiting with bated breath as the stroller turns each corner. Instead, I got:

Me: "Do you want to go on the Buzz Lightyear ride?"
Parker: "NO!"
Me: "Let's go take a picture with Mickey Mouse!"
Parker: "NO!"
Me: "How about we watch the Monster's Inc. show?"
Parker: "NO!"

It occurred to me that I wanted the picture perfect experience more for me than for my child. Of course, I wanted him to have fun and be excited, but I think I wanted to relive that Disney magic through his eyes to bring back that feeling you don't get that often as an adult. So when he found the trip to be less than stellar I felt a great deal of disappointment. I had put a lot of expectations on this day and it was falling short in every way. Then, as we finally conceded and headed back to the monorail, things took a turn in an unexpected direction; the little booger started to cry because he wanted to STAY! What the what? It's possible I may never figure this child out.

The next day I realized that I was actually glad things went down they way they did. It was a good lesson for me. My son is who he is and he does not like a lot of chaos, crowds or unpredictability. I know this, yet I continue to put him in situations where his anxiety will rise because it is something I want to do or an experience I think he will enjoy once I give him that little push. I should have known that something like a jam-packed amusement park would not be his bag. I could give myself a "bad mommy" slap on the wrist and say I will never do something like that again, but I know that's not the case. Parker has a lot of firsts in his future and I have a long list of new and exciting things for our family to do together. I think the answer lies more in helping him understand and manage his anxiety and not in completely avoiding situations that may induce those feelings. So there are now three new books on my bedside table that will hopefully steer me in the right direction. But until I figure out the tools he needs, I think we will stay home and play cars.

Side Note: I plan to piggy back off this post with a commentary on the awesomeness that is people watching at an amusement park. Stay tuned later this week...there is simply too much to bunch into this one post!

Typewriters and Other Strange Things

2010-05-11T16:12:00.001-04:00

I remembered the strangest thing today: typewriters. It’s not that typewriters in and of themselves are a strange thing, it’s the idea that not too long ago we used them. The computer has made typewriters obsolete and simultaneously erased them from my memory. This thought came to me when I was about to sit down and respond to a load of emails and I thought to myself, “I can’t believe people used to hand write everything.” My imagination referenced some woman of the 1800’s with an ink well and feather quill writing her girlfriend:

“Dear Sharon, Thank you for the information on swim lessons. I will be signing my boys up pronto.”

As soon as the image popped into my head so did the realization that I was missing a large piece of communication history from ink wells to present day computers. That’s when it hit me. Typewriters.

It’s actually pretty embarrassing that I had to stop myself and search my memory for typewriters. I remember sitting in the extra bedroom of the house I grew up in plunking away on the typewriter for school projects. It’s sad that this is something that occurred in my lifetime yet I had such difficulty with the recall. It hit me how important it is to chronicle the memories of my children. At the rate I am going I am going to find myself standing in my kitchen wondering to myself, “what was it he used to say?”

When I was pregnant with my first son I started a writing letters to him in a journal. I would keep him up to date on doctor’s visits, nursery decorating progress and of course, my thoughts and feelings on bringing him into life outside the womb. I did the same with my second son and have continued to write to them about their lives up to this point. I may jot down a funny thing they do or say, a milestone they have reached or how I am feeling about being their mother. If I hadn’t done this there is no way I would remember that for some unknown reason Parker referred to himself as “Ju Ju” for two months or that Easton did not get his first tooth until her was 10 months old. Pictures can only capture so much. I am afraid without these journals many wonderful memories would have silently slipped into the file of my mind labeled: “typewriters and other strange things,” never to be heard from again.

The question is, now that I have them what will I do with them? My boys are still young… they have a lot of living to do and I have a lot of writing to do. I still have not decided when I will hand over my version of the story of their lives. High School graduation? Wedding day? When they become parents? When the time feels right? I only hope I can do them justice by being honest and accurate while showing them who they are through my eyes.

Girlfriends Rock!!

2010-04-20T20:49:00.000-04:00

Recently, I read an article that highlighted the powerful friendships that women share. The piece included interviews with groups of women who spoke about their friendships and how the other women had impacted their lives. It caught my attention because I have always been someone who places a lot of emphasis on friends. Growing up as an only child, I often fantasized about having siblings but when they never came along I looked to friendships to fill that void.

I am really lucky to know a ton of amazing women. Over the years I have managed to cross paths with some creative, kind and inspiring souls that I have come to call friends. It’s really quite mind blowing when I think about the caliber of people I get to call “friend”; each one has given me a little piece of them that has made me a better person. They are who I celebrate with when something wonderful happens, who I cry with when life hands me a bag of rocks and who I laugh uncontrollably with at 1 o’clock in the morning.

As a small act of appreciation, I want to give a shout out to some of my girls and let them know what I have learned from them and why I am thankful they taught me these lessons. There is no way I could get to everyone or include everything, but I hope this scratches the surface.

TJB- You taught me to look deep, accept and move on; to laugh at myself and just about anything else; to have fun at any given moment; to follow your heart wherever it may lead.

KCH- You have shown me how deep a heart can love; how loyal a person can be; that the more serious side to life isn’t as scary as I thought; that you can rise above.

CJP- You think and question and inspire; you know who you are and are true to yourself and that is what I aspire to do as well.

RNA- You taught me to speak my mind (although I am still not as good at it as you!); to be fearless and strong; to hunt down a goal and make it my own.

YDM- You are thoughtful and supportive and unimaginably giving; you think of others before yourself and do so with an open heart.

HHD- You have shown me how a completely confident woman looks/behaves; you share yourself openly with those you love and make them feel special; you know how to have fun in a cardboard box.

KMH- You are a breath of fresh air; you show me humility; you are the happiest person I know and it is contagious.

I love you all and thank you for sharing your lives with me!

Quitting Time

2010-04-11T21:01:00.001-04:00

Recently I learned about something called "arrival happiness." This is a term that means, you believe that when you arrive at the next thing in your life you will be happy. For example, people think when they get a new job, buy that new house, get married, buy those killer pair of shoes - then they will feel more happiness. Most of us are seeking one occurance after the next in order to feel happy.

The kicker is, this is all a sham. The happy is either in us to begin with or not and as far as arriving at a new place of happiness? Well, the happiness is in the journey and typically when you reach the destination you are ready to plan the next trip to happyville.

This phenomenon made me think about my children and how they seem to be happy for no particular reason. They are not looking to the next thing to make them happy, they are truly in the moment and happy for the sake of being happy. How wonderful it must be to have no responsibility and know that all your needs will be taken care of for you. I envy that frame of mind sometimes - their ability to completly abandon worry and feel confident that everything is going to work out just fine. They are free to be happy and at peace with their world.

As I approach this week I am going to be a quitter. Quit trying so hard and just let things unfold as they should. Quit thinking that I need something other than the present moment to make me happy. Quit finding the things that are wrong and enjoy the things that are right. Quit holding on to what is not working and open up to change.

Woman Work

2010-03-15T11:53:00.001-04:00

If I could use one word to summate all that is the great, Maya Angelou, it would be: badass. This woman is one of my personal heros and on my top 10 list of women I admire. This weekend, as I was weeding through all my belongings -in an attempt to lighten my 15,638 lb load - I came across a book of poems by Maya Angelou that I have had for years. As I opened the book to a marked page, I immediately knew I had to post this poem. Enjoy:

Woman Work

I've got the children to tend
The clothes to mend
The floor to mop
The food to shop
Then the chicken to fry
Then baby to dry
I got company to feed
The garden to weed
I've got the shirts to press
The tots to dress
The cane to be cut
I gotta clean up this hut
Then see about the sick
And the cotton to pick.

Shine on me, sunshine
Rain on me, rain
Fall softly, dewdrops
And cool my brow again.

Storm, blow me from here
With your fiercest wind
Let me float across the sky
'Til I can rest again.

Fall gently, snowflakes
Cover me with white
Cold icy kisses and
Let me rest tonight.

Sun, rain, curving sky
Mountain, oceans, leaf and stone
Star shine, moon glow
You're all that I can call my own.

I do not remember when I marked that particular page in the book, but I am sure that every time I come back to this poem, Ms Angelou's words will deeply move me.

15,638 LBS

2010-03-12T11:56:00.002-05:00

“Look at all this crap!” is what I find myself saying on a daily basis. It could be literally, when I am changing a diaper (“Look at all this crap!”) or figuratively when I am cleaning the counter, looking in a closet, getting in my car (“Look. At. ALLLLLLL this crap!!!”) This statement is typically followed by an eye roll and large grunt or sigh sound. Where did it all come from and why am I always trying to find a place to put it?

A few weeks ago I had a kick-in-the-pants moment when I realized just how much STUFF we have in this house. A man from the moving company came to do an inventory of our belongings to see how many boxes they would need, what size truck would accommodate our furniture, etc. When he handed me the print out “for my records,” I almost made more crap- in my pants! That print out said they we had 282 items to be moved, weighing in at approximately 15,638 pounds! Say what? How? How had we accumulated over 15,000 pounds of whoknowswhat? But whether I liked it or not, that was reality, the numbers don’t lie.

I said to my husband that this move was the perfect time to make a dramatic change in our lifestyle. We could purge plenty of things that we don’t need or haven’t used and make a conscious effort NOT to start gathering more stuff to put in the empty spaces as well as buy a smaller home. This would be a new way of thinking but would pay off in the end. Every time I clean out a closet, or even the junk drawer, I feel a little lighter. It made me think of my friends, The Stephens, who just moved to the Czech Republic to work for a mission group. They have a crate of their stuff being shipped over from the US and when they were packing up their old house they really had to think about what they needed and what they did not. Then, I stumbled on the blog of a high school classmate. He and his wife live in an Airstream trailer attached to the hitch of their car. Their story is amazing! What they have discovered about their attachment to things and what truly makes them happy have inspired me and given me the motivation not only to make these changes in my life, but stick to them. It is like being emancipated from belongings! There is a link on their blog to a really interesting video called, The Story of Stuff, which I think you should all take a peek at when you have 20 minutes.

Instead of spending $10 on little pieces of crap at the Target One Spot, I can put that money towards a family trip. It is not going to be easy to curb my shopping habit and a lifetime of dog-earring catalogs, but I am convinced I will be a happier gal and live a life that if full of experiences instead of a closet full of shoes.

Follow The Signs

2010-03-02T14:31:00.000-05:00

It might seem like hokus pokus to some people, but I am a believer in “signs.” It probably started in the 5th grade when Jessica, in my Sweet Valley High book, was getting signs that her latest crush was returning her romantic feelings. This was probably around the same time frame I got a Magic 8 Ball for my birthday, so let’s say circa 1986. So for the remainder of my Sweet Valley days and into adulthood I have found myself saying, “It’s a sign!”

So this morning I had a sign about what I needed to write about. But let’s rewind for a minute. Yesterday morning, a friend sent a message explaining that her 30 year old friend was in the hospital with Inflammatory Breast Cancer, later that night at book club, we were discussing how one of the main characters died from IBC. Just this morning, I was clicking through some of usual online suspects and I saw a link to what I originally wanted to blog about today and it took me to the Breast Cancer Fund website. That one click changed the entire direction of this post. Signs, I’m telling you.

It’s seems that we all know someone who has been diagnosed with Breast Cancer; family member, friend, co-worker or neighbor. We wear our pink ribbons proudly and honor those women (and men) who fought and survived. We take a moment each month to do our self breast exam and feel for lumps, but IBC is not going to feel like a lump. Taken from the Inflammatory Breast Cancer Research Foundation’s website:

"We have been taught and are reminded frequently by public service announcements and by the medical community that when a woman discovers a lump on her breast she should go to the doctor immediately. Inflammatory breast cancer usually grows in nests or sheets, rather than as a confined, solid tumor and therefore can be diffuse throughout the breast with no palpable mass. The cancer cells clog the lymphatic system just below the skin. Lymph node involvement is assumed. Increased breast density compared to prior mammograms should be considered suspicious."

The signs include:

• Swelling, usually sudden, sometimes a cup size in a few days

• Itching

• Pink, red, or dark colored area (called erythema) sometimes with texture similar to the skin of an orange (called peau d’orange)

• Ridges and thickened areas of the skin

• Nipple retraction

• Nipple discharge, may or may not be bloody

• Breast is warm to the touch

• Breast pain (from a constant ache to stabbing pains)

• Change in color and texture of the areola

It is sometimes easy to ignore a small symptom such as a little itching or an ache here or there, but knowing that your body could be trying to tell you something is a sign to talk to your doctor. Being proactive in our health is the only way to know for certain to what we are up against.

8th Grade Self, I Hope You Listen

2010-02-26T13:31:00.000-05:00

Dear 8th Grade Self,

Pull up a chair, we need to talk.

First of all, you are awesome just as you are. Stop scrutinizing yourself from head to toe in the mirror, no one is paying as close attention to your flaws as you think they are. I know, I know, the slam books floating around don’t say the kindest things about your appearance and you wish that you would see words like, “hot” and “pretty” when you turn to the page with your name at the top. But I have news for you – a lot of those girls end-up peeking at 14 and look warn down by the time they are 34. I understand that right now, 34 seems SUPER old and 1 million years away, but you better watch out, sister, it’s coming sooner than you think…which brings me to the reason we need to talk.

Could you do me one teensy little favor? Stop walking around with your eyes open so wide that you look as if you are in a continual state of shock. Seriously, you look like someone just yelled “surprise!” as you pulled those books out of your locker. See, what’s going to happen is, you are going to read in your Seventeen magazine that using certain eye make up tricks will make your face open up and glow. Since you’re not allowed to wear make up you are going to think if you keep your eyes open really wide you will get the same effect. Not so much, girlie. Instead, what happens is, when you are 34 (remember I said it was coming quick?) you are going to have caused a lovely set of deep wrinkles in your forehead. Unfortunately, there are no quick fixes for this in Seventeen, the options are pretty much limited to bangs or Botox.

Other than that, I think you are doing pretty well for an 8th grader navigating through a world of hormones, peer pressure and (sigh) slam books. You make good grades, you have friends and you seem to have a healthy amount of self-respect. The wrinkles were the bad news, but I will leave you with some good news.

Your constant pestering and begging will eventually break your mother down and she will: let you shop at Wet Seal, buy you Guess jeans with a ? on the pocket, let you audition for The New Mickey Mouse Club (spoiler alert: you don’t make it past round 1, but you do make cheerleading, which in your mind is a close 2nd to Disney fame), allow you to have a TV in your bedroom and let you wear make up once 9th grade rolls around.

So hang in there- it’s not so bad and you turn out pretty cool considering. Just remember, relax those forehead muscles…relax them!

Thanks and Kisses,

Your 34 year old self

Need More Wonka Bars

2010-02-22T15:19:00.003-05:00

Do you ever have one of those talks with a girlfriend where you walk away feeling good about yourself and happy about life in general? You know – one of those conversations where you feel inspired and excited about what’s to come. Well, I am fortunate enough to have a ton of amazing women in my life who give me that warm fuzzy feeling and spending time with these ladies usually results in me becoming a better person.

Last week I had lunch with a dear friend and we started talking about our goals, endeavors and day dreams. I know, it sounds very rainbows and unicorns, but seriously, it was a great talk! We are both moms, who stay home with our kids, but want break-off a piece of this world for ourselves. (If you read this blog, you already know a little about me and all the crazy up in my life, to learn more about my friend you can read her blog and see she has the same type of wackiness happening.) We both have a lot going on, yet for some reason we can’t seem to shake the feeling that there is something bigger than us out there just waiting for us to grab it!

It’s like we keep eating a lot of Wonka bars but we haven’t pulled our golden ticket yet.

“Yet” being the operative word!

Being a woman often means being a lot of things to a lot of people. It can be exhausting! Yet it seems these days there are more and more women starting their own business and making a strong mark in the entrepreneurial landscape. There is nothing more satisfying than doing something you never thought you could or would do – the feeling is addicting. Trust me, starting this business was not easy - I think “scary as hell” are the words I once used. But there was a time I was scared as hell to take two kids under two to the grocery store by myself for the first time! Once I did that I thought, “I can conquer anything!” My point being, every time you take a leap of faith in yourself and do something even though you don’t want to or you’re scared, you learn that you’re made of more than you give yourself credit for.

So all together now; raise your right hand over your head, bend your elbow and give yourself a big ole pat on the back! You deserve it, sister! And make plans to hang out with that friend who lifts you up and toast to friendship and conquering the world!

Click Here to be The Perfect Parent

2010-02-17T13:48:00.000-05:00

Some friends and I were talking the other day about different parenting books we were reading, had read or should read because so-and-so said it was a good one. We were spewing out insight from what we had read and discussing how we were implementing this into our children’s lives. When our frenzy on swapping book titles and parenting topics stopped, we sat there and stared at one another for a moment. Then K said what we were all thinking; “Our parents did not have a book for every topic concerning children. My parents raised 7 children on faith and prayer.”

We sure do fancy ourselves know-it-alls these days! Now mind you, we have the purest of intentions at heart and only want to be the best parents we can so our children may live the best life they can. Some parents are like K’s and pray for their kids. Some are like mine and just do the same old thing their parents did. Some just wing it and go with their gut. Some may do a combo or all of the above. But us? We read books…or google…or chat on website forums to glean advice and direction in the way of child rearing. Knowledge is power but too much knowledge can also become crippling.

I am currently reading, I Love You Rituals*, by Becky Bailey. When I first started I felt this sense of urgency to start doing everything she said and watch the bond between my children and me soar beyond what I ever thought possible. I felt guilty for not having innately known this is a way I should be interacting with my kids. After the conversation I had with my friends I started to look at parenting books in a new light. While I do love a lot of what I have learned from I Love You Rituals, I think that most books of this nature, when taken to strictly, start to rob parents and children of the authenticity of their relationship.

Will reading 20 books on different aspects of parenting save my children from feeling bad about themselves or having trouble making friends or feeling blue? Man, I sure wish! But, the answer is no. If I loose my cool and raise my voice at my kids does it mean they are not going to feel loved? Maybe for a short time but this is real life and we are real people with real emotions and outbursts happen. (They can learn a lot from the conversation we have after I have lost my patience as well.) All the articles and how to guides in the world cannot replace the human element that makes our relationships real! Trying to be perfect and follow a set of standards will not bring any of our actual selves to the table; only cookie cutter parents.

Besides, if we are awesome parents all the time, our kids are not going to have any good stories about us when they get older. They need to have something to complain about! Sometimes the story about the day mom went bananas is just as funny as the days she took you to get ice cream.

*For the record, I do like and reccommend this book. I have used some knowledge from it and think it is thought provoking. I do not want to shed any negative light on this book in particular.

Starbuck's Tall of Grumpy

2010-02-12T14:35:00.002-05:00

Wine = Good

Jim's Hair = Why?

This has been one of those ~~days~~ weeks when I just can’t seem to shake off the grumpy mood. I know I have a cheery disposition around here somewhere…I just can’t seem to remember where I placed it. To give you some perspective, I would say that on a scale from shot glass to Big Gulp, I am approximately a Starbuck’s tall of grumpy. It is one of those moods where just about everything and everyone is annoying me, so the things that are NOT annoying seem to be what I am craving most. Currently, the people/place/things that are getting on my last good nerve include but are not limited to:

• My family

• The woman at my pediatrician’s answering service that said she is not allowed to page the doctor, call back in the morning when the office opens

• Jim Halpert’s hair on The Office

• This cleanse I decided to do this week (Seriously. I’m hungry!)

• The pile of hardened cheese cubes I found shoved under the armoire in the play room

All listed things need to turn it down about 5 notches. At least there are some things that keep me going. To counter balance all that yuck that has crawled up into my mood, there are some things that make me feel hopeful that I will emerge from this funk soon. They are as follows:

• My marvelous friends

• The supervisor of answering service women who promised to discipline her immediately for giving false and ridiculous information and being straight rude. (OK, so he didn’t mention the rude part. That was me. BUT he did say “false” and “ridiculous.” Thankyouverymuch!)

• Wine

• Reading beauty magazines in bubble baths

• Getting these jeans in the mail on Monday

You know, sometimes it’s just those little things that keep you going and put a smile on your face.

Facebook, Google and Backyardigans On Demand

2010-02-02T10:35:00.000-05:00

Over the weekend, I reconnected with a friend from elementary school. (Yes, of course, it was on Facebook.) I remembered the name, but didn’t quite put all the pieces together until she sent me a message and the light blub came on. She reminded me that we used to hold lengthy phone conversations about Little House on the Prairie. Quite refreshing considering how, these days, many of my girlfriends and I now hold lengthy conversations about Biggest Loser, Project Runway and other reality shows that are far too shameful to admit to watching on a public forum. But it wasn’t our topic of conversation that stood out to me the most in this old friend’s message it was something else she remembered about the one year we knew each other. She said that I was so excited to tell her my parents had bought a VCR I called her almost breathless! Ha! It’s funny to think how ancient a VCR seems.

I started thinking about all the technological advances that have occurred, just in my lifetime, and how all the conveniences have made me become less and less tolerant of waiting patiently. If I have a craving for some Doritos at 1:ooAM, there is a Wal-Mart or Walgreens or CVS open 24 hours. If I am loosing sleep because I cannot remember what the theme song to Growing Pains sounds like, I am only a google away from an answer. There are very few things we have to wait for these days, yet we still don’t seem to be satisfied. It reminded me of this video clip.

When my parents bought the house I grew up in, they had no intention of staying for a few years just to roll the equity into something bigger and better. They were in that house for 21 years and moved primarily because of my father’s freakish aversion to barking dogs – of which there were many – and not because they were dissatisfied or bored of their home. Now we move in somewhere thinking about when we may move out. When my parents wanted a new car they planned and saved and when they finally bought the car it was a pretty big deal and they took really good care of it so it would last a long time. But not me…I. Want. It. Now!

It makes me wonder what the future holds and how impatient my children will become from the trickle down effect of an instant gratification society. I want to teach them to appreciate what they have and understand how fortunate they are and not let them get sucked-in to a whirlwind of more, more, more! But if I am being honest, I love a lot of the things that make life “easier.” Things like Backyaridgans on demand make mommy’s life a little nicer too.

I think the first step is being aware and trying to incorporate patience and appreciation into the lives of my children. Trying to find more times to connect with one another instead of becoming comfortable in all our disconnects like tv and computers. I am going to get right on that – as soon as I google “how to help your kids become more patient.”

There is More to Life Than Salad

2010-01-26T12:47:00.000-05:00

The “mom pouch,” otherwise known as the bane of my existence, is seriously getting on my nerves. Think of all we go through: pregnancy, delivery, recovery, parenthood! – can’t the abdominal Gods break us off something? It really would be the cool thing to do. But, no. Not gonna happen. Unless you are among the genetically blessed, you know what I’m screamin’!

I crunch. I bicycle crunch. I pilates circle. Yet, persistent pouch prevails perfectly pudgy. What’s a gal to do?

After a year of walking, hot yoga, running, power yoga and pilates, the words came to me at our Fit Chicks event when Natalie told me, “there are just some things that you are going to have to accept as getting as good as they can get.” I needed to hear that; a little self-acceptance goes along way. I does not mean I have to stop taking care of myself, but it does mean I can stop being so hard on myself. The truth is no one else really cares. My friends are not sitting at home obsessing about my stomach and wondering why my abs is not fab. It’s just me and it’s kinda silly. Besides, it is not easy to go from this:

to this:

Sometimes you can do all the right things when it comes to exercise and diet but the results are never going to be satisfactory if you are hanging on to an unattainable ideal in your head. So letting that go is the first step. The other piece of Natalie’s talk that has really resonated with me is learning that the body responds to what you do 80% of the time. What that means is if I can eat well and exercise 6 days a week, resting and splurging on day 7 will not ruin any thing! Glorious!!

I love to eat and have never been able to do any sort of diet. My motto has always been: there is more to life than salad. I mean, salad is great and all, but I am not going to give up cupcakes or french fries or regular soda unless it’s under strict doctor’s orders. The act of eating is something that is meant to be pleasurable and sensory and fun – there is an entire television network dedicated just to food! I just can’t imagine giving up all life’s delicious treats in the name of thin. Although I complain about the pouch, being thin is not my number one priority; I am not that much of an all or nothing person, I like to lurk somewhere in the middle. I would rather enjoy my one trip here on earth with a piece of chocolate in my mouth!

It is a lot of work to find the balance that makes all these parts of me smile, but I am convinced it is possible. Find Your Inner Fit Chick, was an event that is truly helping me to Live Inspired. I feel good about my goals and where I am headed and I understand so much more about how my body works and what it needs to be healthy. I am just so relieved it is not as difficult as I anticipated.

Old Fasion Fun

2010-01-20T18:15:00.000-05:00

Day to day life can become boring sometimes. I think the many responsibilities that weigh down my time and mental energy make me forget I’m alive, that I have choices about how I am going to spend my day. Each day I wake up with; two energetic boys who are constantly demanding my attention for everything from breakfast to baths; a list of to-do’s including unavoidable tasks as well as personal goals; a house which is crying out in pain from the weight of clothes, crumbs, toys and unidentified debris baring down on it’s dingy floors. While all this is enough to make a person crazy (and I have had plenty of those days), I am actually quite happy with my life and would change very few things.

My problem is getting so sucked into completing tasks and making sure everyone is cared for and happy, that I completely forget to enjoy the moment and have some good old fashion F-U-N!

It is still possible for me to go through my daily routine, but just jazz it up a bit. So today I decided to dance in the kitchen with my kids while fixing their dinner and open the sun roof and stick my hands out while driving (Don’t worry – just one hand! I promise the other one was on the steering wheel.) It is these little moments and small things that make me feel happy and truly alive!

My kids seem to have this down to a science – they can make practically anything fun. I could learn a lot from them when it comes to looking at life as a giant playground. Now if I could just have their endless amount of energy that comes with it…

Dedicated to Moms of Boys

2010-01-13T21:56:00.001-05:00

I used to think people were ludicrous when they would say little boys and little girls are different when it comes to behavior. I would adamantly suggest that the differences were strictly a matter of environment and the way their parents reacted in different situations. (For example, research shows that when a male child falls and hurts himself an adult is more likely to gently encourage him to be brave and stop crying. However, if a female child falls and hurts herself, the adult is more likely to hug and comfort her with sympathy.)My inner feminist wanted so badly to believe that if children were consistently treated the same the gender stereotypes that define “little boys” and “little girls” would vanish and we would be on a road to a better tomorrow for all humankind.

Then I taught early childhood.

THEN I birthed two boys.

Goodbye hopes and dreams for tomorrow. Hello, Reality.

Of course I know that all children are different, no matter their gender (Duh!), but for the most part raising boys is crazy hard. (As well as just plain crazy.) I have lots of little metaphors for what it’s like to be a mother of boys*. Indulge me?

Raising boys is like your first job out of college. You think all your classes have prepared you for the role but the truth is nothing you are doing seems to work and the pay sucks.

Raising boys is like preparing for a hurricane. You know it’s coming, but you don’t know the destruction it is going to leave behind once it passes through.

Raising boys is like climbing a mountain. You have to stop every so often to acclimatize yourself.

Raising boys is like your first workout after a long break of eating fast food and sitting on the couch. Your muscles are sore, you’re out of breath and you can’t decide if you want to puke or cry.

Raising boys is like your first perm. You’re really excited you have it but you’re not quite sure what to do with it to make it look good.

Although I consider myself to have a good amount of stamina and more than average amount of patience – all metaphors aside- raising boys in a word can be: tough. I get worn down and doubtful and sometimes hopeless and self-critical. But then I realize that things happen for a reason and I was given these boys for reasons bigger than myself and I can endure because I am a good mom. I have lots of metaphors for being a good mom. Indulge me?

Being a good mom is like your first job out of college. You have no clue what you are doing at first but you stick it out and after a while you start to kick butt at what you do, then before you know it, you’re running the place!

Being a good mom is like preparing for a hurricane. You honker down for the hard stuff and once it blows over you pick up the pieces and make things whole again.

Being a good mom is like climbing a mountain. Once you get to the top you realize you can do anything.

Being a good mom is like your first work out after a long break of eating fast food and sitting on the couch. Your body may revolt at first but you power through the pain and end up one tough cookie!

Being a good mom is like your first perm. It takes a while to get it just right. But a good pick and a gallon of hairspray go along way! (OK, so the second part is really just the secret to teasing your bangs...really big!)

So I guess the bottom line is: I am going to be just fine. All us "moms-of-boys" are going to be just fine. It is just hard to remember this when one of your boys is running naked through the house, chasing the cat and screaming, while the other one is eating the diaper that the naked one discarded.

*I would like to acknowledge that I am sure raising girls is not always a stroll in the park but I can only speak to raising boys since that is my experience.

Pajamas and Kim Kardashian

2010-01-04T11:51:00.000-05:00

Now that the holiday frenzy is over, I feel like I don’t know what to do with myself. The non-stop schedule has ended and I have plenty of what I kept saying I wanted more of: time. But it seems that having time on my side makes me more lazy than productive. Why is that, I wonder? I guess when I am on a time crunch I stick to the schedules and lists because I know there is no extra time to slack. However, when there is not much jotted down for a day (like today) I find myself procrastinating because I keep thinking, “I have plenty of time!”

Then 10 minutes turns into an hour turns into 3 hours and before I know it, it’s almost noon and I am still in my pajamas and my accomplishments include drinking coffee and searching Wikipedia to find out how Kim Kardashian and family are so rich. (Side Note: I turned on the TV and their show was on. They were talking about the mom purchasing a $4,000 dress…so, I became a little interested in how they were able to afford that sort of lifestyle. I didn’t know, do you? Well –Spoiler Alert- her dad was OJ Simpson’s lawyer in his murder trail. It is possible that I am one of the last people under age 60 to know this.) There goes 10 minutes of time I will never get back and God knows how many brain cells I could have used for the power of good.

What happen to the list of tasks I wrote last night with such vigor? They were even listed in order of priority – with exercise being at the top- but somehow things like another cup of coffee snuck in and trumped exercise. To my credit I did spent a good amount of time feeding and playing with my children, so not all morning is lost.

So to keep with my pattern of doing things out of order today, I skipped to #3 on the list and updated the blog. Now I get the satisfaction of crossing something off!

Caught Up In The Junk

2009-12-21T21:06:00.001-05:00

Music is a big part of my life. Listening to certain songs can conjure up memories of the past and I am suddenly filled with the emotion that comes with those times in my life – good or bad. I think music is a form of therapy for me. At times when I am struggling with things in my life, I will often scroll through my iPod until I eventually find the cure for what ails me. But today, on a very subconscious -albeit appropriate – level, a line from the Sheryl Crow song, Soak up the Sun, popped into my head. I do not know the last time I heard this song, but I needed the message of this lyric:

“It’s not having what you want, it’s wanting what you’ve got.”

This time of year it is easy to get caught up in all the things I DON’T have that I DO want. I mean, come on, everyone is asking me, “what do you want for Christmas?” So, in all fairness, it is kind of hard not to think about. I’ll be truthful, I am not one of those people who says, “Oh nothing, just something for the kids.” (That is my husband and I love him for that…but it’s not me.) You ask me what I want and I can start rattling off a list of desires from a day at the spa to a box of cracker jacks.

But like the song said: “it’s wanting what you’ve got,” and what I’ve got? Well, it’s pretty awesome. My family is about as good as it gets, my kids are healthy, happy balls off fantasticness and I have a warm bed to sleep in on a cold night. I have a tremendous group of women I can call close, close friends that would do anything for me at the drop of a hat. My health is good. I have reliable transportation. I live in a safe neighborhood. I have running (hot) water and electricity in my home. My life is very awesome.

Our culture makes it easy to want more – and more and more and more. And I will be the first to admit, I totally get caught up in that junk! But sometimes I need to check myself and ~~I think~~ I know that is why this lyric came to me today. It’s like a line from another song:

“Don’t it always seem to go, that you don’t know what you’ve got ‘til it’s gone… – Joni Mitchell

If all those things I listed above were to be taken from me tomorrow, I would only be wanting what I had. Why is it so hard to appreciate what is in front of us?

Am I a Well-Meaning White Person?

2009-12-15T11:47:00.000-05:00

Yesterday morning I was listening to a review of the movie The Blindside, about a homeless African American man who is taken in by an affluent white family in Memphis. Interestingly, the film critic was comparing The Blindside to another movie currently out, Precious. If you know anything about these two movies, I doubt you would see many similarities, since Precious is about the horrific abuse of a young girl and the profound difference literacy has on her life.

The critic was making the point, that while Precious is a young black woman facing adversity, she takes her life into her own hands and manages to rise above - without the help of white people. He felt (although it was based on a true story) The Blindside perpetuated a myth that black people need the help of white people to advance themselves out of poverty. It reminded me of the “well-meaning white person” in a book by Barbara Trepagnier (click here to see her speak). In a nutshell, this means that white people will do polite things (such as smile at a black person they pass on the street) so in their heads they can say, “See, I am not racist, I just smiled a black person.” Trepagnier, along with the movie reviewer on NPR, believe that underprivileged black children do not need the help of white people to make their lives better.

Now, you may be wondering why I would be posting about something as controversial as racism on a seemingly harmless blog such as this. Well, it’s the irony of where I was driving to as I was listening to this movie review that makes this so poignant. I was on my way to volunteer at a school, which is 98% minority children and 100% of the student population is living below the poverty line. “Hmm,” I thought as I pulled into the parking lot, staring at my radio, “way to take a little wind out of my sail.” I was excited about seeing these kids and spreading some holiday cheer to them, but now I was reflecting on my intentions and really hoping I was not just trying to be a good little white woman.

The morning at the school was incredible! The kids were so excited to have Santa visit and just loved the personal attention from the volunteers. I ended-up spending the whole morning at one table of 4 year old VPK students who would not let me even think about leaving. They were so adorable and loving, I just couldn’t imagine how there could be anything wrong with me being there and being white. One little boy kept “accidentally” getting glitter on his hand, just so I would wipe it off. (The power of human touch.) Another little girl said she didn’t have a Christmas tree at home and hoped Santa would bring her one because she really liked to look at Christmas trees. They talked my ear off and I loved every minute! They were so hungry for one-on-one attention, they were competing for my eye contact.

I do not think their parents are negligent, I am sure they work extremely hard to provide for their children and that, unfortunately, leaves them with little time to give their children the undivided attention they are craving. So I had to ask myself, does it really matter that I am a white person, giving these black children my attention for these 3 hours? Or is it more important that somebody - a caring adult – is making them feel special today?

I reflected on this throughout the day and into this morning until I decided to write this post. I read Silent Racism years ago and do believe that white people are many times “well-meaning” and do only continue the racial divide. We still have a long way to go when it comes to understanding why we can’t understand other races and the experiences of their cultures. It is complicated. But I have to believe that one human helping another human is always a good thing. Who would have come to those children yesterday if the volunteer organization I belong to did not organize that event? What mattered to these children is that someone cared enough to do something just for them and provide an experience that they were excited to participate in.

Sure, we could try to unearth the underlined meanings of why we do certain things and if racism is involved; I certainly think that is important. That being said, I just can’t rationalize NOT helping someone in need, just because I am of a privileged race. I believe that if we all were to spend more time reaching out to others it would help to bridge the gap. Connecting with people and sharing our lives with one another is what humans were created to do, and it is what we should be doing - especially with children – if we want to see a positive change in this world.

This Tiger's not so Grrrrrrrrrrreat

2009-12-09T15:50:00.001-05:00

On a scale from 1 to 10, (1 = whatever…eye roll and 10 = this is insanely awesome!) I am interested in the Tiger Wood’s saga somewhere between 2 and 3. My husband is an over-the-top sports fanatic and his interest puts him at about an 11 on my scale. Due to his obsession, by default, I have gathered more information on the subject than I care to have. So far, the best quote I have heard about this situation was from Saturday Night Live: “Last Friday, Tiger Woods hit a tree and a bunch of women feel out.” (Seth Meyers, Weekend Update) All the alleged affairs and excessive plans and money spent on said affairs have left me with two words: Poor Elin.

Due to the media circus, this woman can not even leave her home in peace. She cannot even follow her mother’s ambulance to the hospital without being tailed by paparazzi. Tabloids are offering upwards of $100, 000 for pictures of her and the children. The children! Fellow Americans, let this woman and her children be!

OK, so we find out Tiger is another guy who likes to stick his penis places it need not be, but that is his fault, not his family’s. He was the one who made these decisions, not his family. Who will suffer more for these decisions? His family. (Well, I suppose this is an arguable point since Tiger may “suffer” financially. At least that is what the media is saying. Poor guy, next year he may only make $50 million. Gosh, my heart goes out to him! The interesting thing is, this guy has a family, is the most recognizable athlete on planet earth and makes $100 million a year, but somehow, that is not enough. So I guess we will stay tuned to see how much Tiger suffers, but for now, my opinion is that his family will suffer more than he for his decisions.) This simply is not fair.

I try to imagine how Elin must feel. Finding out her husband has been sleeping with multiple women is bad enough, but now she is being stalked by TMZ and her poor mother is in the hospital. What the, what the? I am sure the last thing Elin needs is my pity, but I have been spending a lot of time trying to empathize with her and her situation. In the simplest of terms, it is straight messed up! I sincerely wish there was something I could do to help, but until now I couldn’t come up with anything. But today I realized there was something I could do: stop paying attention to all the hoopla. I know I am just one person, but if Americans were not obsessed with indulging in the hurt and misfortune of celebrities, the innocent people (like Tiger’s children) would be able to heal without a camera chasing them.

The Incident at The Playground

2009-12-07T16:18:00.001-05:00

It was a glorious day; beautiful weather, husband was home, well behaved children. A trip to the park was in order.

When we arrived we noticed that we weren’t the only ones with the idea of this outing today. There were many happy children and parents at the park; swinging, sliding and climbing. Speaking of swinging…there were only two baby swings and the same people were using them for what seemed to be an eternity! As my husband played with our 2 year old on the playground equipment, I stood holding my 20 lb 10 month old on my hip, staring down the swing hogs. At least I was enjoying the breeze.

While I seemed to be focused on the swing, my 10 month old was perfectly content on my hip, happily tugging on my shirt. Time passed. The two baby swings remained occupied by the same two children and I became increasingly closer in my proximity to them, as my arm was going numb from holding my son.

Well, here’s when it happened. “The incident.” As I mentioned, my arm was going numb and I needed to readjust my child to keep the blood circulating. So, I look down at my son, preparing to switch him to the other hip and that’s when I see it. My boob. Out and about. I don’t know if it was the weight of my son pulling on my shirt, him actually pulling on my shirt or a combination of the two, but any way you slice it – I was exposed! Yes, she had made her way through bra and shirt and was staring the other happy park-goers in the eyes.

Of course, many questions start running through my head: How long has THIS been out? Did any of these people see IT? How did I not notice?! Well, I tucked the old girl back in and commenced playing with my son. I decided I would press pause on stalking the swing people and go in the opposite direction (especially since they were in the direct line of fire and if anyone saw what happened, it was them!).

It occurred to me that this was an interesting social experiment. Would anyone have said something to me? Would a stranger, approach another stranger, and inform her that she had nip slip? I highly doubt it. What would I have done if I was on the receiving end of this incident? I want to say I would have politely approached the woman and discretely informed her of the mishap, but I can’t be certain that I would have. Of course, now I am swearing (you all as my witnesses) that if I ever see something like this I will help a sister out! I mean, come on, you can not let another woman walk around with a boob out of her shirt. It is just not OK. It’s not. You know it’s not.

So the moral of this story is: Always wear turtle necks.

No, just kidding.

The moral of this story is: If you want your kid to have a turn on the swing, keep your junk in your shirt.

Sanity or Fantasy?

2009-11-19T14:47:00.001-05:00

Traditionally, families took vacations. Lately, people seem to be planning stay-cations. Well, what do you call it when you’re a mom and you want a trip ~~away from~~ without your kids? At the moment I can’t seem to come up with a catchy name, but if you’re asking me, I’d call it sanity.

My fantasy sanity-cation involves; me, a hotel, magazines, movies and a giant bed all to myself. Oh yeah, I forgot to mention the hubs is not invited. (Sorry, babe.) Solitude. How I crave solitude. Just the idea of living out this fantasy brings tears of joy to my eyes. What would I do with all that time and quiet? Probably be worrying about my husband and kids and wondering how on earth they are surviving without me. Most likely I would be staring at my phone to make sure I hadn’t missed a call or text…

OK, new fantasy: me, hotel, magazines, movies, giant bed all to myself, phone turned off. This is sounding better. I can focus on relaxing and being in the moment. But if I have to focus on relaxing, it’s probably not that relaxing. Better schedule a massage. And a facial while I’m at it! I’m going to need to eat strictly from the room service menu so I don’t have to change out of my robe. The only time the robe comes off is to take a long bubble bath while I read my magazines.

Wow, it’s amazing how just the thought of it is already making me feel sane. Perhaps I am on a fantasy-cation and the positive effects are already kicking in? Which for some reason is making me think of wine. (This is starting to feel a little, If you Give a Pig a Pancake/Mouse a Muffin.) I need to bring some wine, some good wine. This means my room will need a balcony and decent view so I can sit outside and enjoy my good wine. This is getting complicated.

Let me see if I have everything. Me, hotel (with balcony and decent view), magazines, giant bed all to myself, phone turned off, massage, facial, room service, robe, bubble bath and good wine. Yep, that should do it! Now all I need is a reservation.

College Town Blues

2009-11-16T20:27:00.001-05:00

There are many categories that I would put myself in but “old” is not typically one. I have no desire to be 17 again, I love where I am in my life and I love knowing who I am (which I certainly had not a clue about at 17). How young or old I feel is relative to certain situations, but it always catches me off guard when I find myself flirting with that “old” category. It usually happens when I am shopping in a trendy (and maybe not so age-appropriate) clothing store and one of the fresh faced jean folders calls me “ma’am,” but some friends and I realized we had recently experienced the same brush with Old; and it shook down in two college town bars.

For me, it was Tallahassee; for Mary, it was Gainesville. We were both in town for football games and thought we were still cool enough to go to college bars at night (which, for the record, we are totally cool enough to do that). As I walked passed many busy bars I felt a little bit of envy coupled with a lot more relief to be my age. I longed for that carefree feeling of college, where time seemed eternal and responsibilities minimal. The only one I had to consider was me – eating, sleeping, playing were all on my time. That was bliss. At the same time I am happy to have a full life and be rid of all the insecurities and drama of my early 20’s. But I am supposed to be telling you about what made us feel old, right?

So, Mary and I discovered that we have both gone to a college bar and got…wait for it…carded! Ha! Laugh out loud funny! To make it even better, the bouncer didn’t just glance at the ID, he scrutinized it. Which made me want to ask him if I was really underage, would I make myself 33 to be cool? Probably not.

We joked that if he really thought we were fudging, we could just show him our boobs or c-section scars and then he wouldn’t even question.

Obviously, we got in to the bar and after wandering around a bit realized that we were among fellow alumni. This was the place the old people came!

Somehow we had gravitated to the place that was no longer hip and cool for the college kids, but instead played host to the older crowd on those home game weekends. The irony alone was enough to give us a good laugh. Later that week Mary heard from a friend who has kids living in Gainesville, that the women who work at the bar she went to wear faux wedding bands to ward off the “old alumni dudes.” That is a lot of preparation to side-step a 30 or 40-something man from hitting on you. I guess us oldies can be pretty scary, but at least we have enough money to pay our tab at the end of the night!

The Motherhood Continuum

2009-11-04T14:22:00.001-05:00

For those of you who do not know my oldest son, he is…shall we say…rowdy? He has never been the type to listen the first time, he likes to run into the street in front of the house and he takes great pleasure in knowing that he is making his parents squirm by breaking the rules. In his defense, he is 2 - but trust me, these behaviors are driven more by personality than age. I certainly do not expect him to be perfectly well behaved, but it can be embarrassing at times when he is running amuck and you feel the eyes of other mothers burning little holes into you.

So why do I think it is so awesome when I see other kids behaving worse than him? In my head, I am thinking, “Yes! You are so much worse than my kid! Right on!” Meanwhile that poor mother probably thinks I am staring at her and being judgmental, but really I am trying not to jump and down with joy.

This happened to me today and I realized how much comparing and contrasting goes on with parents. We may think our child is challenging until we see another child who makes them look like an angel. As parents, we start to measure our successes by how we see other people’s children behaving. Sometimes when I see kids who listen the first time, I think, “What am I doing wrong?” But when I see a child really going bonkers I think, “Well I must be doing something right?” Why I am using isolated incidences to validate myself as a parent? Especially when what other people’s kids are doing has nothing to do with me or my children.

But for some reason it seems easier to have a continuum to measure myself against instead of just thinking I am good at being a mom all the time. It seems so difficult to sit back and the end of the day and say, “I am a really great mom,” which is such a shame, since most of us ARE really great moms. I guess, as mothers, we are setting our own bar really high – maybe unreasonably high – and it seems like we are always falling short. But maybe we shouldn’t see it as falling short, we should realize that we are always reaching higher.

Gourmet Cupcakes

2009-10-29T13:33:00.001-04:00

What's better than a cupcake?

A gourmet cupcake!

Where do you get a gourmet cupcake?

Summer's Gourmet Cupcakes

With flavors like s'mores, pink lemonade and dulce de leche, why would you even bother making cupcakes from a box? Why not let someone else do the work and enjoy the best part - eating!!

Ordering a dozen or two is an easy way to side-step some of your holiday baking. Just bring a beautiful box of delciousness to your office party or Aunt Esther's tree trimming and you will be a hit!

More Moments

2009-10-26T16:02:00.002-04:00

Is it really that hard to be content? It seems that I am one of those people who are always thinking about more. Maybe it’s more time for me to do the thing I want or more chocolate cupcakes or more clothes in my closet, but I find that I am frequently thinking about acquiring or doing more. How hard is it to just be simply…content?

Many days it is easy for me to get bogged down in a sea of more. On any given day you can find me saying things like; “I need more time”, “I need more hands”, “I need more shoes”, when I really need to be focusing on how I can live best in that moment. I am thinking there is a ton of happiness to be found by putting the mental chatter on pause and being present in what is happening.

I had what Oprah would call an “ah-ha” moment this morning. I was on the couch, drinking my morning coffee when my 2 year old climbed up to join me, book in hand. After the second time reading, The Very Busy Spider, my 8 month old crawled over and pulled up to see the book. I hoisted him into my lap and continued reading the same story 4 more times. I paused for a moment and realized: this is all I need.

My coffee was cold, I had a list of to do’s a mile long and I was still in my pajamas, but who cares about any other little thing in this world when the two loves of my life are in my arms? (This is all I need.) Moments like these will be gone too soon and I will find myself once again wishing for more - more moments.

How easy it is to place importance on the things that don’t really matter, like thinking that cleaning the dishes requires such a sense of urgency. I already know what really matters but I tend to push it to the bottom of the list. Thank God my children haven’t figured this out yet so they can keep pulling me back to those moments. They are all I need.

The Never List

2009-10-21T13:48:00.001-04:00

There is some sort of phenomenon that happens before we have children -or before we are even pregnant for that matter - where we start to proclaim things we will NEVER do as a parent. I wasn't quite conscious of this list until I had children and saw my proclamations crumble before my eyes. Then I heard friends without kids making the same statements and compiling their never list well in advance.

All these ideas sound great before an actual baby is screaming in your sleep-deprived face at 2:00AM for the third night in a row or you are just trying to make it to the grocery store and back without a complete meltdown. Are you thinking of your list at that time, trying to abide to your own rules? No! You know what happens to that list?

The list of nevers became maybes and the maybes turn into just this one time until eventually it becomes a regular occurence.

This morning I scratched another line item off my never list: Never play children's music in the car. Way back when I put this on my list for a few reasons; 1. I cannot stand most children's music and 2. I wanted to expose my children to a vast musical repertoire. Well, truth is, the kids want to sing-a-long with Elmo whether I like it or not. Reluctantly, I slid the CD in and cranked up the volume.

Then I remembered reason #3; once is never enough. When the song/CD is over the first thing I hear is, "AGAIN!" So now I am faced with either listening to crying or "Elmo's Song" for the remainder of the car ride. Looks like the red guy wins again.

Born Free Bottle Give Away!

2009-10-16T14:19:00.000-04:00

By now you've heard that "bad plastics" are out and BPA-free is in! Born Free bottles and children's products make finding safe products a no-brainer. All their items are free of the harmful chemicals stirring up so much commotion in the world of plastics. Born Free products provide that peace of mind that parents want.

Wanna get your hands on some? Enter to win a Born Free Gift Set, by emailing us with a sentence including the words "born" and "free." Don't worry, the draw for the prize will be random, the sentence part just makes it more fun for us!

Rockin' Out!

2009-10-15T09:09:00.001-04:00

I know I’m biased, but I like to think my baby rocks. At Baby Rock Apparel, they know my baby (and yours) not only rocks, but they are never to small to be on the cutting edge of fashion.

The funky line of children’s clothes and accessories keeps kids looking as hip as their parents. Their designs are casual, fun and don’t take themselves too seriously. What a welcomed break from all the cuddly bear and puppy dog shirts!

I was so pumped when my “Sorry girls, I only date models” shirt arrived. My son looked adorable in his tee and we had 3 people stop us that day to say how much they liked it. It’s refreshing to have something unexpected in the little guy’s wardrobe.

Aside from the clever saying, the shirt was super soft and washed nicely. Also, I love the fact that it is black! With all the spills and smears a day-in-the-life of a toddler brings, we need any help we can get. Speaking of black…Baby Rock Apparel has something they call “black blank” clothes. Here’s the deal: you can buy all the small fry essentials in basic black. Brilliant! I am always searching for good black basics to mix in the kiddy closet.

So enough of my opinion, check it out for yourself. And don’t forget to enter code: mommyista at check out for a sweet 15% off your order! Happy shopping!

My Weekend is a Mullet

2009-10-09T13:35:00.003-04:00

Sometimes I think weekends are bittersweet. If forced to make a decision I would say they are more sweet than bitter, but it seems that I am never quite satisfied by what a weekend holds. In fact, I feel weekends have become a bit paradoxical now that I have a family. In just 48 hours I am supposed to try to get all loose ends tied-up from the week prior as well as relax and do fun things.

Do Saturday and Sunday hold some super powers that I am not tapping into? Because it seems that this attempt to jam everything in is becoming more manic than managable.

Trust me, I plan. I have the lists to prove it...and the post-its with lists on them about checking the lists in my planner. Yet it never seems to fail, Sunday night rolls around and I am feeling blue. Where did my weekend go? Did I have enough of that fun and relaxation I was so looking forward to? Did I get as much done as I could have? Seriously! All this self-induced pressure is killing my weekend vibe, man. Seriously.

So I am going to try out a little experiment this weekend. I got the idea when I saw some dude wearing one of those shirts that said, "Sunday Funday." (Good idea, bad shirt.) I am going to try to take care of any errands, chores and the like on Saturday - whatever gets done, gets done, whatever doesn't can wait. When Sunday rolls around, let the good times roll. I guess I need to look at my weekend like a mullet: business in the front, party in the back.

Wish me luck!

Join the Revolution!

2009-10-06T14:25:00.003-04:00

Today is a fresh start for this blog. The blog that started it all (well, at least the name). The idea of being a mommyista has turned into a full fledged business and overall attitude.

Our desire is for this blog to be an honest, real and candid depiction of the life of a modern mother. We certainly don't have it all figured out and we do not claim to have all the answers, we just promise to be ourselves and keep it real. Honestly, we're still figuring a lot of stuff out on this crazy mommy journey. Thing is...it's given us a lot to say.