Merry Christmas dear friends and readers! It's been a haul this Advent, and though I haven't kept up daily in the most literal sense of the word, thanks for hanging in as I reached my goal of publishing at least 24 posts this year. It's been so great to get writing again and get centered. Truly, finishing this post tonight is the best gift of all so thank you to everyone who continues to journey with me in this life of family, writing, questions, hope, love, faith and joy. A Christmas cocktail of all that's good to last the ages!
Here's a shot from our house today, and another excerpt from The Glorious Impossible which I referenced in my post yesterday. I hope you all are safe, resting, and having a merry day in just the way you want this year.
Holding the child in her arms, rocking, singing, Mary wondered what
was going to happen to him, this sweet innocent creature who had been
conceived by the incredible love of God and who had been born as all
human babies are born. God, come to be one of us...
...The
wonder of the Incarnation can only be accepted with awe. Jesus was
wholly human, and Jesus was wholly divine. This is something that has
baffled philosophers and theologians for two thousand years Like love,
it cannot be explained, it can only be rejoiced in.
Happy Holy Night everybody! Here's a shot of our live Christmas tree, which my German husband insists on every year. It's like Christmas roulette having two toddlers, a mound of presents, a real tree, and candles burning everywhere. So relaxing, right? But in truth, so beautiful. All said, I wouldn't change a thing.
One of the coolest Christmas gifts I ever received was this gorgeous book from Madeline L'Engle. It's a beautiful narrative, written with clarity and pared down in a way that really illuminates the beauty of the Christian story. I will leave you with her words tonight:
And so the life of Jesus began as it would end, with the impossible. When he was a grown man he would say to his disciples, "For human beings it is impossible. For God nothing is impossible." Possible things are easy to believe. The Glorious Impossibles are what bring joy to our hearts, hope to our lives, songs to our lips.
Not the roaring kind, but rather the angst-ridden late adolescent version. Like, per this post and for the sake of continuity, say 20, 21, 22 and 23. I recently got into a fascinating conversation with some of the young adults in the community I coordinate about the ideas in this book, which a lot of millenials seem to be consuming with great gusto. It's basic message is don't f*** around in your twenties because it is the defining decade, the decade when you lay the foundation for the rest of your life. You can get an abbreviated version by listening to the author's TED talk here. We watched it at a retreat with some young adults and it got me kind of riled up, to be honest. While I support a lot of what Meg Jay says, I also feel like it encourages a sort of control and judgement about how you "make" a life. I'm still trying to sit with all the reasons it nettled me to figure out which ones are worthwhile, but in the meantime, I thought others might enjoy it and would love to hear feedback.
The one thing I can say about my twenties for sure is how much fun I had with my friends, none of which I would take back for a second. I may not have been serious or focused enough to have EVERYTHING by Meg Jay standards, and so the foundation I laid in my twenties may end up having me looking something like this in my sixties-
It is one of the blessings of old friends that you can afford to be stupid with them (Ralph Waldo Emerson)
but hey, it could be worse. I came across the above quote from Emerson the other day and it pretty much summed up the beauty of friendship to me as I approach my next decade. Old friends, new friends, lots of work, the joy of family, and stupidity to last a lifetime....
Now I'm grown up and I feel like I'm navigating a grown up world to which there are no rules. My dad wrote me the most moving Christmas letter the other day in which he highlighted the fact that he thinks my sister are I are navigating levels of stress that he and my mom did not have to navigate back in the day. I'll never have his prospective, but it definitely sounds plausible. Based on this fascinating and somewhat depressing article, the New York Times would agree.
But on the up note, 19 years is about the amount of time I've known most of my best college buddies. This blows my mind, yet also feels sort of right when I think about how well they know me, what faithful friends they are, and the depth of support and insight that a long term friendship can provide. I am so grateful for all my friends daily, both new and old. Love, in every form, is truly what makes the world go round. At least my world!
This is pretty much me and my college buddies in a nut shell
For drinking in New Orleans, oh what a Golden Age that must have been. I've heard talk of it from my older cousins in Mississippi, and my own sister got to take advantage of the statute after graduating from high school. Those were the glory days.
Recently, I had the pleasure of taking a brief trip to the Big Easy and myself drank this sweet and refreshing St. Germain cocktail at the lovely Hermes Bar at Antoine's.
It would be a great one to reproduce for myself and other's this holiday season. Also, I'm a big fan of these mulling spices from Martinelli's. I always have a fantasy of making my own homemade mulled cider or wine, and even have the spices stashed away in my spice drawer, but in the end, these make up a delicious brew and are honestly fast and affordable in comparsion. Throw in the convenience factor and it's done. I usually spice apple juice or cider with them in a big pot then throw in a shot or two of rum per glass and voila, instant cheek ruddiness and warm spirits.
Hope your Advent is swimming along festively.
This picture is straight up from 1893. Do it ladies!
Okay, seventeen more or less. One of the best things about living in Austin is the AMAZING programming on our public radio station. I'd never really fallen in love with radio until moving here, but both KUT (news) and KUTX (music) really bring it on a level I'd just never experienced before. Like now, for instance. If you're like me, that is, a music lover with very little time to discover and invest in new music, this list from KUTX is a life saver. And here is the expanded version. Not that I'll have time to hunt down all the leads here to be riding their cutting edge wave of awesomeness, but at least it's a start.
And along those lines, KUTX also plays just the right amount of Christmas music (like 3 days worth I think) from the furthest corners of the music maps, so if you're looking to play something festive in your holiday downtime or while entertaining, definitely consider streaming them live directly from www.kutx.org if it's possible. I personally really don't like Christmas music, or though I didn't, until I heard what KUTX brought out from it's vaults. Impressive and inspiring!
The concept, mind you, not the country. I've had some great times in Holland and am fond of the Dutch in general. I even proudly sport a Dutch surname, so really, it's not personal. Here's the thing:
In 1987, Emily Perl Kingsley wrote a brief essay about how it feels to be the parent of a child with special needs. The gist of the essay goes like this: When you are preparing to become a parent, it’s like planning a trip to Italy. You’re incredibly excited for your Italian vacation, and you buy all sorts of guide books and plan your trip meticulously. Then, when your plane lands, the flight attendant announces you have landed in Holland, and there you must stay. In short, this sucks at first because it’s not at all what you planned, but once you get used to the idea you realize Holland has all sorts of amazing things going on and if you spend your whole life wishing for your lost Italian vacation, you’ll never really be able to embrace the Land of Tulips and all those wonderful Dutch people for who they really are.
After becoming the parent of a child with special needs, countless people referred me to this essay. When first wading through my stress and grief, Kingsley’s words brought me comfort as they affirmed what I was slowly beginning to understand about my child: Her life will never be like that of her peers, but frankly, that’s okay. It will be an amazing life none the less.
But since those early months of stealing hope and recognition out of the fog of grief, I’ve developed an ongoing annoyance and disappointment with this concept as my daughter now approaches her sixth birthday. I get it: She’s different. Our life is different. My problem with Holland and the idea this essay represents is that it simply doesn’t go far enough. I thank Kingsley for her thoughts, which have no doubt inspired and comforted thousands of special needs parents over the years. I’m simply asking for more.
I now realize that even though Holland is great, you can still see Italy, because on this magical and metaphorical map of Europe, Italy is right next door. You can see your friends and family frolicking in the Tuscan sun while you’re trying to teach your child to walk in wooden shoes. And somehow you’ve got to get your kid to understand how delicious Gouda cheese tastes when she can see all her peers slurping up gelato right across the way. This is the reality of being a parent with a child who is different. And the greatest pain comes when you realize all those kids running around Italy can still communicate very clearly with your Dutch child. Even though they speak different languages, she still somehow understands every remark, jab or unkind question about her disability. Yet she can’t seem to get a word of Dutch in edgewise.
So I’m proposing a new metaphor, because I think we could all benefit from looking at the landscape of disability in a more realistic, inclusive light. I would like to tell every special needs parent that having a child who is different is like landing, along with every other family, in a foreign country. We’re all flying blind when it comes down to it. But let’s say, for the sake of metaphor, we land together in France. It’s a brave new world out there, and we are all bound to have a trip with lots of ups and downs, but the reality for a family whose child is differently abled is that it will be a very difficult, very challenging experience for them. They will see the other families wolfing down a baguette, just to realize their child will never be able to chew bread, or at the least is wheat-intolerant. Other people will zip all over town to see the sights, and for the child with a disability, the trains will often seem on strike. Families will travel in huge groups to the Eiffel Tower, and the families of those with disabilities will have to acknowledge that their child may never get to see the top. This is the reality. We’re all here, all together. Placing the disabled and their families in the metaphor of a “different” country does not help any of us see, embrace, and work like hell to make the reality something more kind, more realistic and more humane exist for all of us.
It wasn’t until the birth of our second child that I realized how painful and isolating my experience of the “Holland” concept felt. Before giving birth to our son, a big healthy boy, I’d begun experiencing anxiety about his arrival in full force. Having a healthy baby somehow meant straddling the fence between Holland and Italy, explaining to a child who could go and do anything, that unfortunately, our family life was in Holland, but we’d do our best to make sure he could visit Italy as much as possible. Would having a second child force us out of Holland, a place we’d worked so hard to create, love and accept? How does a parent in this position mediate the needs of both children, and deal with the stress of a “bi-cultural” life?
That’s when I decided to screw Holland, and invite other people to join me. Nothing against the lovely Dutch and their country, but we’re moving to France. And yes, the rail won’t always work for us. I’m sure at times the people will be rude. We may have to pass on the baguettes, but somehow and someway we will find an existence that incorporates all of our needs, and doesn’t allow us to isolate ourselves or our family because our first born is different. Nor does it allow other people to isolate themselves from our challenges, because they can and do exist and it is part of the human condition for everyone to recognize that. Hopefully, with a 35 hour work week, we might even have time to talk about it.
Here is what my backpack looked like after arriving back in Austin from a transatlantic flight. Seemed like a pretty great metaphor for the wear-and-tear of constantly trying to shuttle back and forth between two countries. Like my backpack, it often leaves special needs families feeling tired and haggard. So vive la France, ya'll!
Is the number of kids one of you single ladies should have with this dude. Never married, no children, hero of the world. Let's at least see if we can talk him into freezing some sperm. The world needs more guys like this. So somebody get their ovaries pumping and let's make some.
To learn more, watch this perimenopausal porn / documentary which is available via Netflix:
With all that France has been through this year, I wish this post was more overtly political, but sadly, it's not. Unless it's political to say I admire someone's way of life and living, which in a way I suppose is political at base. Learning to respect peacefully another culture's way of being, and not allowing fear to affect the way we live our lives, both seem like two of the essential questions at the heart of world security today.
Like most of the free world, I've often admired the French from afar from the way they live, including but not limited to their food, drink, life philosophy, and style. Here are a few little jewels that have captured my fancy over the past few years, happily bringing out my secret Francophile:
-All the books by Mireille Guiliano, the author of the classic French Women Don't Get Fat. It's the only book about "dieting" that I've ever thought was worth a damn, as her advice is practical, healthy, and relevant (the importance of eating seasonally, etc.). She was written extensively on everything from French culture and lifestyle to fashion, and I heart her. I can't say that I actually finished it, but French Women for All Seasons was on my nightstand for a while and I would love to get back to it. Can't remember why it got bumped, but I definitely found it light and entertaining.
Emmanuelle Alt from somewhere on the intrawebs
-Emmanuelle Alt. This lady is so freaking hot and she wears the same thing all the time, bringing me back to the point that my life would be so much easier if I just had a freaking uniform. Something to aspire towards in 2016.
-And for those people wanting to think more practically about finding and losing of love, La Seduction: How the French Play the Game of Life by Elaine Sciolino, the longtime Paris bureau chief of the New York Times.
-I've mentioned it in another Advent post, but Mademoiselle C is definitely worth the eye candy and the fact that it's free and fast on Netlflix. And dang, is that lady french in, like, all the right ways.
-And finally, this piece which has been circulating about the differences between American and French girl's style. The model, Camille Rowe, is actually really funny and it seems pretty spot on to me!
What to say? Such a complicated number and so mistrusted. Except by Mary Kay Ash, the cosmetics mogul. If you haven't heard about her obsession with her lucky number 13, you can read all about it here.
Personally, I love her pluck and sass. If you're worried about bad luck for any reason though, here's a good read to give you some food for thought. I read it over the summer and am still trying to implement the life changing magic described, though I really did love the book philosophically and feel like it asks great questions about our relationship with stuff.
Just a few thoughts on a long winter's night. Almost the longest, in fact. Happy belated Solstice readers! I've got a busy few days of catch up ahead.
What is it with the freaking holidays? They just always seem to unleash so much chaos in the world. And for me personally, that usually comes at the time of year when I need and yearn to be the most still, the most rested, and the most reflective. I so desire a personal season of celebration that reflects my own values and beliefs around the holidays. Yet it seems no matter which way I approach it, the reality of this symmetry coming to fruition is quite a process. One thing that has evolved in my own little family over the years is getting a handle on the gift giving/receiving bit. This year things feel particularly pared down in the best of ways. I would love an Advent and Christmas season that focused on reflection, time together, shared meals, and down time and kept the material exchange to a minimum. Is this possible? Certainly. It just makes me feel a bit like an alien in some circles, and when connecting with any media source. In this vein, however, a colleague of mine suggested adding this book to my list and I think I might just do it. Maybe in time for next Christmas!
Does anyone remember this term from college? I think I first encountered it in a Shakespeare class. At any rate, the idea (at least as I hazily recall it) is that little boys would wear skirts until the age of 8, at which time they began to wear "breaches" or pants. So 8 was considered the "breaching age". Just a little Elizabethan trivia to get your day started, though I do love the ideas and questions behind it with all thegender and gender development talk floating around our ethosphere right now.
I've been working on my personal life over the past year (Read: THERAPY) and it's been interesting to excavate back as I also work on the here and now. Like everything, family systems inevitably come into play. 11 was definitely the age when I had to put on my big girl pants, and the rest is fodder for the ages. With all this in mind, as well as so many of the thoughts and questions we entertain raising a child with special needs, I was MASSIVELY psyched to get this book in the mail from one of my close friends recently. It's been on my list for two years, and is next on my to-read list. I might even gift it to a few people myself! I'll report back once I'm done, but I've had many trustworthy sources confirm it's awesomeness so if this kind of thing is your bag, I would definitely add it to your list for the New Year.
When I consider aging, I think a lot in terms of decades. What can I expect my life to be in each decade? How glad am I not to be in my twenties anymore? And how much am I looking forward to my forties? I found this little piece of fluff from an online British publication and chuckled, though I agreed with a lot of what they said. Or at least I would agree in theory if my thirties hadn't been almost solely dedicated to gestating, birthing, nursing, diapering and running after children. It's been an awesome decade, but very labor intensive, making me seriously psyched about my forties. But never fear! The same site had this to say about why THEY will be our best decade by far. Admittedly, they were a little less convincing, siting things like "nobody gives a toss what you look like" as one of their reasons, leading me to believe all the people working for them are probably 22 and fantasizing about what in the hell it might be like to grow up.
On a side note, they also had this picece up on their site:
I love to dance. I'm not sure where the passion began, but when I look at my wiggly two year old and see his desire to shake his body to almost anything that has a beat, it makes me wonder if it's something that is just inside of us. And when do we start to forget? At any rate, whenever I'm down, a tiny dance party really does help. Even a party of one. Of course, with friends is the BEST EVER, followed by with your kids as a close second. Personally, I do love dancing with my husband, but cutting a rug with my lady friends somehow always feels a little more epic. So in light of this, here are a few nods to some of my favorite dance moves/films/moments/songs over the past few, uh, decades:
1. FLASHDANCE. It simply doesn't get anymore dance epic than this. Both in terms of film and soundtrack. And it's often streamable on your Netflix most any time. Habitual readers, do you see a trend here? What would my life be without Roku?
2. Move Your Feet by Danish duo Junior Senior. Gets me going every time!
3. Abundance which is the title track of this album by Detroit's PPP. Amazing lyrics, amazing message, amazing beat. Who could want more?
4. This documentary which is available via, yes, Netflix, is a change of pace in terms of the dance theme. It's full of eye candy, and fun to reflect on the fabulous life of Carine Roitfeld. Not a critical success, but totally entertaining. I loved seeing her do straight up ballet in her Paris apartment. Makes me psyched about the possibility of life in my sixties!
5. This dance inspired unitard. I wore the hell out of one like it from American Apparel a few years back. It looks cool with stuff over it, it feels cool to have under clothing, and I loved wearing it in the frigid German winter a few years back because it was a warm base layer that seemed way sexier than my thermals.
6. Maybe this dance workout so I could look really awesome in said unitard. I've eyed it with interest and suspicion over the past few years. Admittedly it would take a lot more dance workouts and a lot fewer doughnut eating sessions to get me in dancer shape, but what a lovely thing to think about while sweating away.
7. This Sesame Street video that got my kids and I killing it in our living room the other morning. It's one of my faves and it was fun to see my little ones inspired to bust a few moves to such a great message.
8. What dance inspired post of mine would not be complete without a shout out to the person who reflects the latent star in all of us with so much humor and, uh, grace. So here's to Molly Shannon and her incredible Mary Katherine Gallagher.
9. And finally, this classic trailer from the dance movie that started it all for so many ladies in my generation. Was the movie "Girls Just Want to Have Fun" also the required video for all of your girlhood slumber parties? I'm convinced that this movie and the masses of young girls obsessed with it was how Sarah Jessica Parker first worked her way into the Gen X pscyhe. So put on your spandex and legwarmers, and enjoy this festive 80s treat:
Do you remember those Magic 8 balls? The ones you could ask a question and then shake up and get a quick answer? Here's what they looked like:
I've been thinking a lot this year about discernment in both my life and my day job. One of the thing that resonates most deeply with me about the process of discernment is how long it can take, and how much patience it requires At least with some questions! Patience is not my number one virtue. Like now, as I'm trying to concentrate on the sentence I am writing and my mind is already on the ten posts that I have to make up for these past two weeks. But no matter. Basically, for myself and anyone else that might be tuning in, I want to list the patterns I've observed and worked with for myself and others going through any process of discernment. Hope it's helpful. My internal Magic 8 Ball is saying Signs Point to Yes!
So I'm finally au courant with my posts, and I'm about to hit the hay. I've had so many fantasies over the past few years about staying in bed all day. BY MYSELF! Sexy right? I just want a total jammy fest with lots of snoozing and lounging around with a remote. I can schedule the occasional weekend away, but why is it so hard to just give myself the gift of true rest? And I know I'm not alone. Maybe I'll order these in an effort to a) Increase the number of my matching pajama sets by 50% (I've got two and whenever I wear them I definitely feel like I rule the world) and b) set my intention to the universe that said sloth weekend WILL happen in 2016. Or maybe I'll just wait til after Christmas and try to snag this pair on sale. Either way, here's wishing you lots of rest in the Advent season and in the year to come! This guy still gets enough...
On the seventh, but no matter. Add this CCR gem to any holiday playlist you have going on. A boy I loved in college put it on a mixed tape for me (yes, I'm totally that old) and it's warmed my heart ever since. And the language and imagery is sooooooooooooooooo Advent. Crank it up and enjoy!
I love food and I love entertaining, but feeling the squeeze of work and family life, it rarely happens right now. But I try to stoke the flame however I can, and here are a few thoughts and ideas floating through my food/family/fun hungry brain right now:
1. This article about speed cleaning before a party cracked me up, but was also so true. I definitely have employed almost all of these tips in one way or another over the years. Dishes in the oven? Wouldn't rule it out.
2. I've been reading MFK Fisher's The Art of Eating since last Christmas. It's a whopper, but so lovely and I'm particularly taken with Mary Frances herself. Here she is shopping in her fur at a market in Switzerland:
Yea, pretty much want to be her
3. I've had a strong desire to have friends over one night this holiday season to sip on a little of this while hanging by the fire. Fingers crossed I can sit back and make the magic happen.
4. But when there's just no energy, and a feast still feels in order, I've been totally loving this series from Netflix.
5. This wine from Trader Joe's. We bought a case of the 2011 for my son's baptism, and I'm still enjoying it (read: RIGHT NOW!). The blog I found it on wasn't bad either. Someone with good taste reviewing wines under $20. Happy early Christmas!
At least that's the size of ours. I saw this decal today as I was pulling out of our neighborhood and it cracked me up. Not sure what that says about our neighborhood, as I'm pretty sure it's supposed to be a novelty item but whatever. Way to take it to the next level, lady! Way more interesting than the classic Baby on Board sensibility.
Too slow to actually capture the moment, I retrieved this photo from www.babyupinthisbitch.com An important web destination to keep in your virtual rolodex.
I'm a day behind but still committed as hell, so watch out. Got this little gem sent to me by our amazing kid whisperer, and it made me stop and reflect on what it means to connect to your inner child.
I think of this a lot when I watch my kids and am constantly entertained. So this is my wish for you this weekend. Connect with your inner toddler. This guy is still about 10 months from being three, but doesn't he look mature? I hope you have a wonderful weekend, and it involves a lot of padding around the house pants-less while sipping fresh pressed vegetable juice (YES! THAT IS ACTUALLY WHAT IS HAPPENING HERE! REFERENCE SAID KID WHISPERER), preferably with mismatched socks that you pick out purposefully because they both just give you pleasure. Honestly, life is too short to live otherwise. Just think about what you want to do, what gives you joy, and for every road block your conscious throws, tell yourself over and over again that you don't give a damn while you drain that juice, baby. Drain it!
I've spent a lot of time this last year thinking about the concept of partnership, namely, how and what I'm hoping mine will be. I'm guessing I'm not alone in this- in fact, I feel like as women we often spend an inordinate amount of time thinking about relationships. I don't find it particularly bad or good, but I'm definitely fascinated as to why. After thinking a lot about how to build a happy partnership, I've realized so often it comes down to finding and committing to my own happiness regardless of my partnership, so that if I can access that happiness, I can use it to shine light and love to all the people closest to me. Husband included! A commitment to my own happiness doesn't quite simplify everything, but I've realized it's a good place to start. At least it's the part of my marriage that I have some control over, and that is a relief to remember when lines get blurred after years together with lots of highs and lows.
It's been almost ten years exactly since I laid eyes on my husband, and my what a ride it has been. Together we've weathered incarceration, deportation, exile, cancer, the birth of two children, one with special needs, and perhaps most importantly, the cost of child care in America. Seriously! That sh** is so stressful right now. Like Obama-mentioned-it-in-the-State-of-the-
Union sort of stressful. Anyway, a digression, but one I like to name just to keep it in the public dialogue (public meaning me and my friends who will read this). At any rate, here are a few things that are on my mind about it right now.
The urge to remodel. Not your house, necessarily, but your marriage. I read this article at one point this year about the process of differentiation that couples go through as their relationship spans a longer period of time. After reading it, I felt a real sense of context for what it can mean for a partnership to progress. Changing how you relate to each other and your selves will obviously evolve with time, and with that, so will your relationship. It's natural, it's okay, and honestly, it's probably pretty good!
Building a community of love. Along the same lines, I recently read this piece which is a record of an interview between bell hooks and Thich Nhat Hanh. In their conversation, bell hooks references a concept that Thich Nhat Hanh and Daniel Berrigan describe in a book they co-wrote called The Raft Is Not the Shore. She infers that when working with ideas and concepts, often "the bridge of illusion must be shattered in order for a real bridge to be constructed." This is similar to the idea of differentiation. I love in this article how they name the fact that sometimes bridges we've had or thought existed must be shattered before we can really work on building something new. And in this article, they extend this to any community of love we desire to build or participate in or with, pushing the idea beyond intimate partnership to any circle of people with whom we hope to build healthy relationships and community.
Celebrating what's right and identifying concerns. This book, which I swear is the only book about marriage and relationships that has, in my opinion, ever been worth a damn. And I've read a lot of them! It's also come recommended to me from multiple professional sources that I respect, and whenever I'm feeling overwhelmed by the endless adventure that is marriage, I find myself turning back to it again and again. The basic ideas are insightful, and it always sheds the light of clarity on things that are going well in my marriage that may not be at the forefront of my perceptions, and also the things that merit real concern.
So if you have a two who is part of you,, or that's something you imagine in your future near or far, I hope you'll find much peace in harmony in relationships both this year and in many years to come.
This is actually from our wedding! It was fun to look back and pull both of these because they are all so freaking good. Again, never underestimate the important blessing of wonderful and talented friends. Maybe that's my Advent theme? Thank you Hatnim Lee!
Hello friends, Romans, Adventians! I suppose that Advent started officially for most religious folks on Sunday, but in our German-American household, we rang it in today. My husband developed this nifty system for our refrigerator when we realized our old traditional Advent calendar is missing:
It was pretty sweet to see him get so engaged with something, so I'll go ahead and assume Advent must have been a big deal in his house. In my house we were like, could you throw more colored lights and tencil on our fake tree? And while you're at it, bend that pipe cleaner branch a little to the left. I can't see Grandma's crocheted angel with the shiny beads sewn in from the this angle. Now pass the funnel cake.
Seriously, though, I'm trying to embrace this tradition for so many reasons. One being that it's my last shot to cram all my resolutions into a short period of time before year's end. So all I have to do this month is reconstruct my marriage, write a play, try to teach my speech delayed daughter how to communicate miraculously through a handheld device, potty train both my kids, and work out daily. Oh! And write, like, 20 blog posts.
Does anyone else feel like this at year's end? And on top of all that, it's the middle of winter and that tiny window of time between our two American holidays when I want to do exactly zero. So right when I should be driving it all home (or cramming it all in or however you want to say it), all I really want to do is hang out with people, drink wine, watch telly, and go to bed early every other night.
Does anyone else feel like this rolling into the weekend?
This little guy turned two the past week and the pace of these two years still leaves me totally flattened by Friday. We are having two (one for each year) small friends over tomorrow to celebrate so other than praying for good weather, I'm hoping to get a bit of down time in somewhere. Maybe I'll check out new episodes of Call the Midwife on Netflix, or try and take some time to hear the entirety of Ryan Adam's new remake of T. Swift's 1989.
There are many reasons I love my neighborhood: My neighbors (most of them), the old school ice cream trucks, and the fact that it's one of the only areas in central Austin that still feels like something real, not just something new and, like, MODERN. And experiences like tonight when I had to run to Walgreen's at 9 pm and the check out clerk decided to whip out her cell phone and show me this You Tube video as I was trying to scoot through the check out as quickly as possible. I was laughing out loud in, it's true, my active wear.
Enjoy!!
Then, as a post script, I popped in the grocery store right next door to Walgreen's and scored these bad boys on sale for $1.
I knew I'd made it to the big league with a tag that drove home the fact that that these "were not designer glasses."
Now get out there and enjoy that super Moon. It's clearly exerting something in the universe!
It matters not who you love, where you love, why
you love, when you love or how you love, it matters only that you love. -
John Lennon
I definitely feel like 2015 is the Year of the Relationship and just wish I had some jazzy astrological data to back that up. At least that's how it feels at our house and the universe seems to be colluding. In light of the Supreme Court's decision last month, it seems like as good a time as any to 1) reflect on the nature of love 2) post strange yet also strangely cute photos of my children and 3) remember one of the strongest (albeit hetero) couplings of the 20th Century with a throwback to the love and activism of John and Yoko. Cheers to all of you, men and women, gay and straight, British, Japanese and citizens of this wild and mighty land we call America. May we all continue to celebrate and hope the love we take is equal to the love we make!
Here are our Terrific Two celebrating the Fab Four a few weeks ago at the LBJ Library, Abbey Road style:
My daughter woke up the other morning with the most epic case of bedhead. Here it is for your viewing pleasure:
This morning I woke up and my soul felt kind of like her hair. Crazy, frenetic, messy and on edge. We're trying to adjust to a public school schedule that means we have early mornings with little to no time to feel as calm and present as I'd like with my kids. As a working mom, I had no idea how precious that extra hour and a half was until I lost it. Now I feel like we barrel into most days, and I spend a lot more time missing the kids. Geez how excited I am for summer.
So after losing my temper with my children while they got dressed, crying in the car, and then eventually making it to work (please tell me this doesn't make me as crazy as I sound), I opened up my email and found this message from a total stranger from whom I'd requested information the day before:
Hi!
I am following
up to make sure you received my fax. Please let me know.
Thank you and I
hope you have a day that makes you say, “I really need to keep a diary!
That was amazing!”
M****
For some reason this totally made me laugh and also dig in to remember that every day really does have the potential to be amazing. Even the ones that start out as cattywampus as my 5 year olds hairdo. It was such a good way to get my frown turned upside down, and I'm hoping for even more coincidental mantras in the days ahead.
How do you right a day that starts out all wrong? I'd love to learn more about people's personal ways to re-set a day, a thought pattern, or an attitude.
Hello and a Happy Belated Valentine's Day! I made these homemade Valentines for my daughter to hand out along with all the Frozen, Cars, and Spider Man Valentines in her 4 yr old preschool class. And by homemade I mean I took these Hallmark cards with the ocean printed on them and cut them in half and then put a little heart on it. I feel like, besides being the kid with the brain injury, she's also going to have to live this one down for a long time. It's like no matter what they wear or how we trot our kids out, we're always going to be the family that kind of smells like garlic. And that's what you remember them for: a brief waft of garlic and their homemade sweaters. Oh well. There are worse fates. Like handing these Valentines out with a Kahlil Gibran quote inside for four year olds. Yes, I went there.
Your friend is your needs answered. (Kahlil Gibran)
Hello world! It's been far too long without a shout for joy so here goes: The New Year is off to a good albeit soul-searching start. More on that in a longer post. In the interim, rest assured I am becoming a New Age parody of myself (sipping a smoothie while practicing deep breathing as I walk back to my office after therapy). You know, THAT sort of thing. But it's awesome, it's working, and I think I'm putting myself back together after a strangely difficult six months of, well, STUCK.
Stuck sucks
So in the spirit of learning and re-learning the art of mastering self among the complicated web of relationships which we all have occasion to inhabit, I started doing some research on uncanny love and out-of-the box partnerships. I came across this totally f****** gorgeous article about Lou Reed and Laurie Anderson after their relationship came up in conversation with a friend. It will warm your heart and break it a tiny bit, all at the same time:
