Trust

I am an introvert.

I do well in small groups, with people I already know and feel comfortable around. I can fake it, if necessary, but not for long, and with varying results.

When I meet new people I usually smile, say hello, and then either stay and listen to their conversation, or move on. Either way, it takes a bit before new acquaintances actually get something of substance out of me.

I am protective of myself and my feelings. I am warm and kind and yes, even sincere, but I am also secretive and scared.

I am a blogger.

I discuss some of my most personal feelings and experiences in a public manner.

I put my insecurities on display for the whole wide web to read, expecting nothing in return, but always hoping to connect with someone who has, or may have had, the same feelings and/or insecurities.

I am an introverted blogger.

The two might seem incongruous, but they really aren't.

I don't mind opening up online because we are all participating, we are all sharing something. Blogging is a quid pro quo relationship wherein we all give up a little of ourselves, and get support and reassurance in return. I love my online life and the friendships I'm cultivating here.

When I finally meet up with these "bloggy friends," we will hug. We've already shared countless cups of "virtual" coffee and numerous personal anecdotes. We both know names and birthdays, accomplishments and setbacks. We're friends, and that friendship is based partly on mutual sharing; neither one being more vulnerable than the other.

Again, let me restate that I am an introverted blogger.

I get anxious when someone from my 'real life', who isn't family or pre-blog friends, begins to read my blog. Most people that I see on a daily basis don't even know I write, and wouldn't really know how to find my space, but on occasion, I will tell a new friend about it.

Then I will proceed to go home and throw up.

Seriously though, sharing myself so completely makes me vulnerable and therefore, uncomfortable. Especially if the friendship is new. Granting someone access to my private thoughts, feelings and fears without having to earn it - whether by years of following online, or getting together in person - is a risk.

There is no quid pro quo in real life, like we have online, but there should be.

Here's my advice to anyone who may have stumbled across, or been given information about, a real-in-your-life-person's blog. Especially if it's mine.

• Comment, you can do it via email if that's more comfortable for you. 
• Let me know you were visiting, or tell me about something you read that you enjoyed.
• Share something about yourself with me.

If you think about it, reading my blog, in it's entirety, is the equivalent of two years of weekly coffee visits.

What would you have shared with me over that time?

Best. Posts. Ever.

I am thrilled to link up some of my favorite posts from this past year for Mama Kat's!

I'm not going to do twelve though. Partly because I don't have twelve favorite posts, and partly because the ones I'm linking to, I really want people to read. With so many amazing bloggers linking up, I couldn't possibly expect you to read twelve posts from me.

So here they are, some of my favorites from 2011. Enjoy!

A Mother's Day Gift to Myself

If It's Love

I And Love And You

Where I'm From

I hope you find something to relate to so you want to come back and visit again!

Life is Beautiful

Given my recent emotional setback, I thought it appropriate to focus on something beautiful for today's post. I'm using Mama Kat's prompt and listing the seven wonders of my life - as a nurse, and patient. Some were joyful, others were filled with tears, but each experience showed the beauty of a life and they have all helped me to remain focused, calm and accepting during difficult times.

1. As a new nurse, still precepting, I witnessed grown children saying goodbye as we cared for their dying mother. She was my first patient to die. I remember her children were there around the clock on rotating shifts, reading to her, reminiscing about their childhood, thanking her for her loving care throughout their lives. We were all present when she passed and I cried with them, realizing that, I had helped them through this difficult time. I gave tenderness and love to their family and was touched to be able to share in their grief.

2. After spending 16 hours helping me labor with Asher, the nurse on shift stayed late to care for me after the birth and help me as my son latched on for the first time. Looking back, with my experience of 12 hour night shifts, I truly appreciate her dedication to patient care at the expense of her own time and energy.

3. I've watched parents, sitting vigil at the bedside of their teenage child lingering between life and death from a suicide attempt. Desperately wanting to do something, and hoping that being there just might be enough to bring their baby back to them.

4. I've held the Ambu Bag during a lengthy code, before time of death was called, as a tearful wife leaned over to tell her husband "I love our life."

5. I've seen a patient who coded several times in ICU walk into my unit upon discharge and thank me for the care I gave, grateful to be able to spend another day with loved ones.

6. During an awful snow and ice storm, I watched exhausted nurses come on shift, having slept in the hospital, to take report on patients they knew would not be safe without adequate staffing.

7. I've performed post mortem care more times than I can count. Tenderly removing lines and cleaning patients so they can be ready to be taken to the funeral home. Some find this macabre, but for me, it's a continuation of nursing care, not only for the patient, but for the family. A way to show respect for someone's life as well as those that love them.

I realize that this list may seem like a downer for some, but that's not the intent. I've learned from my career that there is beauty in even the most upsetting parts of our lives. Sometimes it's shown to us by others, sometimes we are blessed to offer it to someone else.

Written in response to a prompt from Mama Kat's.
#1. List your life's Seven Wonders. 
Describe the most amazing 7 things you've seen with your own two eyes.

Yep, I did that.

This week for Mama Kat's I chose to make a list of 22 things I've done. I hope this gives you a little more information about who I am and where I've been. Enjoy!

I'm 34 and I have:

1. Spent a year in New York as a live in nanny.

2. Learned Russian at DLI so you don't have to.

3. Finally made it to a New Kids on the Block concert, 20 years late and 7 months pregnant!

4. Ate steak frites with my father in France.

5. Danced on a ballroom dance team.

6. Met the love of my life and convinced him (at 19) to marry me six months later.

7. Served in the United States Air Force.

8. Gained 60+ pounds with BOTH pregnancies and lost it.

9. Went parasailing.

10. Spent two summers working at the North Rim of the Grand Canyon.

11. Attended Brigham Young University.

12. Got two tattoos, the first in Miami when I was 20 and the second in Vegas at 34.

13. Earned my RN.

14. Perfected the recipe to make the BEST RICE KRISPIE TREATS EVER.

15. Ran two half-marathons.

16. Visited Amsterdam's red light district.

17. Was the lead singer in a band (I even have a two song CD to remind me).

18. Donated my hair to locks of love.

19. Spent a week exploring Dublin.

20. Pierced my own ear.

21. Flew on a plane that caught on fire and had to make an emergency landing.

22. Had my feet in both the Pacific and Atlantic Oceans.

Written in response to a prompt from Mama Kat's.
#1. Write a list of 22 things you have done.

If It's Love

I am so happy about this week's prompts! I've been wanting to put this song 'out there' as OUR SONG, but was unsure how to do it.

Unfortunately (or fortunately, depending on how you see it) I'm not "telling" so much as "showing" this week. Enjoy!



If It's Love from Miss Marina Star on Vimeo.

Written in response to a prompt from Mama Kat's.
#2. Tell us about your song.

Where I'm From

I am from a typewriter, from a well loved, beautifully played Martin, and homemade wheat bread.

I am from the busiest house in the neighborhood, family dinners that spilled from the dining room table onto living room couches, from chaos, strong wills, and the hidden trace of cigarette smoke on breath and clothes.

I am from the the scent of orange blossoms and the heat of the Santa Ana winds, from the Joshua Tree, sour grass, and the feel of the Pacific Ocean between toes.

I am from holiday batches of homemade Chex Mix and the fear that danger can be found in the most innocuous of places, from Christmas and Huckett and Lara, and even Norton.

I am from the darkness of depression, the struggle with addiction, the fierceness of an independent spirit, and traveling light in the interest of self preservation.

From 'God will provide' and 'love one another'.

I am from those who sprinkle and those who immerse, from three hours of meetings every Sunday without fail. I'm from religions claiming focus on strong family relationships, loving the sinner while hating the sin. I'm from unanswered questions and the abandoning of youthful beliefs. I'm from sacraments, covenants, purgatory, celestial glory and eternal damnation.

I’m from the City of Orange, from Mexican immigrants and New World explorers. I'm from Christmas Eve tamales and rosemary sourdough toast.

From the secretary who fell in love with the truck driving choir boy, the teacher who fell for his research assistant, and the man who made it 'Off-Broadway'.

I am from volumes of photo albums organized for decades then scattered amongst the grieving. I'm from boxes of letters, books, poetry and journals hidden in attics from judgmental eyes. I'm from seashells, and sand dollars and smooth glass rocks. I'm from schoolwork and projects, report cards and homemade gifts forgotten and tossed aside in anticipation for the next move.  I'm from forsaking the old in search of the new, from turning your back and leaving behind.

Written in response to a prompt from Mama Kat's.
#2. Where I'm From.

Not Your Ordinary Motherly Advice

I was intrigued by Mama Kat's prompt to write advice to a new mother. I don't consider myself an expert in this department, despite having had two children, but I do think that I might have some interesting, unconventional, thoughts to share on the subject.

Bear with me:

1. Congratulations! You are now the proud owner of a wonderful new little bundle of soul-sucking joy. I mean that, of course, in the sweetest of ways. With so many people wanting, yet unable, to have children you are blessed beyond measure. However, don't let that overcome you with guilt about any feelings of resentment you may have towards your new little love. Motherhood is a sacrifice. Not only of the body, but also of the mind and soul. You will become intimately acquainted with all your faults and failings, but you will also find strength and wisdom when you least expect it. You will feel proud of what you've accomplished, yet also, at times conflicted about how this new life makes you feel. Don't be ashamed. Every parent has felt this way, some just refuse to acknowledge it.

2. Drink. I'm totally serious about this one. ESPECIALLY if you a nursing. You've already probably laid off the sauce for the past 12 months and are hankering for a cosmo, martini, glass of wine, or PBR. It's okay. Don't worry about "pumping and dumping" just wait until the evening feeding after you've had dinner, prop your feet up in a comfy chair, let the little one latch on, and sip your favorite adult beverage while watching whatever your latest guilty pleasure is. Your milk will come down so much easier if you're relaxed and satisfied. And your body will have enough time to process all the alchohol before baby's next feeding. I consider it a win/win for all!

3. Find a friend. This can be someone with or without kids, so long as they understand that you are inexplicable tied to the little monsters. You need to have someone who doesn't judge you for however you feel about motherhood. Someone who is willing to listen to you cry and bitch about how perfect your boobs used to be, and maybe even be handy at helping you shop for bras. Seriously, you need a good friend that doesn't mind you calling home in the middle of a girls night out to ask about your little ones bowel movements. This are not a friend that needs to be willing to babysit, this will be a friend for you. Someone who helps to remind you that although you're now wiping another person's butt on a regular basis, you are so much more than that.

I cannot express enough that being a mother is difficult. It's not all sunshine and rainbows. You WILL want to lock yourself in the bathroom at times and that's OK. Just realize that anyone with children has been there before. Try to surround yourself with people who are willing to overlook the awful things you say about your kids (like this post) and don't beat yourself up about the bad days.

Also, invest now for their therapy. It will help assuage the guilt when you just can't drink another cup of imaginary tea or play another game of Candyland.

Written in response to a prompt from Mama Kat's.
#5. Advice to new mothers.

Full Circle

It's been far too long since I've written a post for Mama Kat's workshop. I feel like I just haven't had time to squeeze good writing into my blog this summer. I've been too busy posting pictures and fluff about kids and vacations - and the chaos that engulfs our family when we go without a schedule - to actually sit down and compose a post.

I miss it.

Not only writing, which was the reason I started this online adventure in the first place, but also the comments and companionship that comes with sharing in something bigger than just me, alone, banging out my thoughts on a laptop; between the naps, swimming lessons, play dates, and temper tantrums.

Initially, it was the silence of blogging that enticed me. Taking time, alone, to put my thoughts or feelings into words without worrying about what they sounded like outside of my head. Being free to express publicly my opinions and ideas without the fear of judgement because no one was really reading my blog anyway!

As this space grew though, I felt the excitement of being alone WITH other people. I'm still able to have that time with myself; time to sort through the endless days of diapers and dinner and laundry. Time to ruminate on my seemingly epic failures as as wife and mother, as well as time to quietly pat myself on the back for what may seem to others to be the smallest of accomplishments. While simultaneously, sharing all of those days, failures and accomplishments with people who "get it." People whom I've never met or spoken to, yet whom - through our online exchanges, twitter feeds and one-way diatribes - I know.

I miss you.

I miss writing about me - my ideas, feelings, or fears - being hesitant to hit publish, only to find a comment a few hours later full of support, understanding and often validation for what I'd been afraid to express. It was wonderful to discover that, although my thoughts are unique and my hopes, dreams and fears come from my own personal experiences, there are others who share some of the same feelings. I don't have to be alone in my failings and I can share my successes with people who understand why some days the fact that I didn't pack a bag, get in the car and drive to Mexico is a success!

I miss that.

This summer has been chaotic. I got so wrapped up in the trips, errands, and activities, while at the same time trying to keep up with the household chores and work, that I got lost. I wasn't able to use my "me time" for anything besides catching my breath. I didn't write. I didn't run. I started smoking again. I read book after book, but mostly as an escape. It took all my energy just to tread water and now I'm feeling somewhat depleted.

So I'm turning again to where I have found so much comfort in the past. I'm writing in the quiet about something that's been screaming in my head for the past few months.

It's been far too long since I've written a post for Mama Kat's workshop.

Written in response to a prompt from Mama Kat's.
#4. Write a post that begins and ends with the same sentence.

Those Lazy-Hazy-Crazy Days of Summer

The following is a personally tailored list of Miss Marina Star's Top 10 Summer Don'ts. Meaning that, if you're not controlling and crazy like me, you probably don't need to follow any of my advice. You're most likely already well on your way to having a kick ass summer!

1. Don't neglect sunscreen. The fact that your husband has dubbed you "the whitest Mexican he's ever met" isn't actually a good reason to neglect your skin protection. Use sunscreen, even if you aren't planning to be in the sun. As long as you spend enough time out of your pajamas doing something outside of the house, you'll end up with a nice, healthy color.
2. Don't forget what it's like to be off for summer break as a kid. Make sure you plan enough late night, sleepover, junk food filled movie marathons for Asher. He needs to feel like he had a full kid-tastic summer. Try to keep the last few weeks before school starts as open as possible for free play and vegging out in front of one screen or another. Your kids have been great-ish this year so they deserve a few days of brain numbing down time.
3. Don't spend all your time inside, regardless of how hot it is. Seriously, there is a reason you have more pairs of winter pajamas. Winter is the season for lazy days and Phineas and Ferb marathons. Summer days are for exploring outside your comfort zone. Make some memories that include pictures of you actually wearing a bra!
4. Don't shy away from adventure. You live in a part of America that has a seemingly endless supply of kid centered activities. From public splash pads, to museums, to free kids summer movies at the Alamo. You should be able to find something new to try at least once a week. Asher will probably protest the most initially, but just take a Xanax, pack some snacks, and hopefully by the end of the summer he'll start looking forward to having new adventures and trying new things. If not, don't worry, you've been saving for his therapy since his birth...he'll work through it.
5. Don't obsess about your bathing suit body. What fun is summer without a little indulgence. Go ahead and have that ice cream, whenever you feel like it, every day if you want. Chasing the ice cream man down the street constitutes some form of exercise so feel free to get two if you are having trouble making a choice.
6. Don't neglect yourself. You deserve a few pedicures this summer...as well as a wax or two. Take a few afternoons this summer (especially before the big beach trips) and indulge at the spa. You totally deserve to have adorable pink toenails and the absence of shaving bumps.
7. Don't hesitate to buy and read all your guilty pleasure magazines. Let's be honest, you love People and US Weekly and just about anything that has a little trash talking celebrity gossip. Just buy the magazines already and enjoy your time in the sun, by the pool, at the beach, or just drinking beer in the living room. Get your fill of trash so you can be ready to finish your NPR reading list by year's end.
8. Don't fail to plan that girls trip to Mexico. You and Kathryn Nash of Mixed Handbag fame actually do deserve (and desperately need) a girl's only weekend getaway. Just plan it and buy your tickets already. DO IT...NOW!
9. Don't start smoking again! I'm not saying you can't indulge a bit (on occasion when the kids aren't looking) but absolutely no more of last summer's "now I'm totally re-hooked and must start smoking to maintain my sanity" nonsense.
10. Don't Stop Believing! Sorry, but ten was just too many for me to think of!

So there you have it, ten foolproof ways to have fun this summer if you're crazy like a fox me. 

Written in response to a prompt from Mama Kat's.
#5. Your top 10 Summer Don'ts.

I'll Be There For You

I can't explain my continuing love for you, but it's there. I own, and still enjoy watching, every season. If I'm flipping through channels, I always stop on you becoming completely engrossed as if I don't know what's going to happen next. I still find quoting you to be totally relevant, which may explain some of the odd looks I get in social situations, but people who "get me" understand.

• "How you doin'?"
• "I know!"
• "We were on a break!"
• "Smelly cat, smelly cat, what are they feeding you?
    Smelly cat, smelly cat, it's not your fault."
• "Not just a hat rack my friend."
• "Fine by me!"
• "Pivot! Pivot!"
• "You fell ASLEEEP?!!!"
•  Rachel to Ross: "And just so you know, it doesn't happen to every guy, it's not all that common and it is a big deal."
  Chandler: "I knew it!" 
• "Ah, salmon skin roll."
• "We got some Vicks in some places."

As far as television shows go these days, in my estimation, nothing has been able to replace you. I long for my "Must See TV," looking forward to spending Thursdays curled up in front of the television with a beer and some popcorn. Wondering what's going to happen with Ross & Rachel, being excited to see Monica & Chandler get together, plus at the end they added Paul Rudd. PAUL RUDD!!!!

I will always love you and make room for you in my life. And I promise that once the kids are gone, and I'm retired, I'll spend an entire week watching every season from beginning to end. After all you've given me, I feel like you deserve a little of me in return.

P.S. If this post seems a bit incoherent, it's because I was actually watching Friends while writing this and it's totally distracting!

Written in response to a prompt from Mama Kat's.
#5. Write a love letter to someone (some thing?) you love.

Don't Carry It All

This is the purse I carry practically every day.

(I actually hate that it's black, and would love to find a dark brown Kate Spade similar to this one, so if you come across something, let me know. Hello tangent!)

Anyway, it's much smaller than most of the purses my friends use, but it's just the right size for me. You see, I pretty much only need to be able to fit three things: wallet, phone and keys. Anything else that fits, like my Canon powershot, or various treats, is just gravy.

Upon contemplating what my purse contents "say about me" I realized something very important about myself. An epiphany, if you will.

When it comes to road trips, family activities or any other adventure we take together, I am always the packer. And I pack as if I we are headed into the wilderness, traveling to the furthest edges of civilization, where we will be unable to buy any necessities. Therefore, everything from food to seasonal clothing to extra bedding and utensils must be crammed into the family car.

However on my daily travels; taking the kids to and from school, heading to the gym, running my various "mommy errands" I don't feel like I need to bring anything besides the basics. I don't worry about being prepared for the unexpected. Sometimes we even go out without extra diapers! I have been known to, more than once, buy diapers and wipes just to change Amelia in the store bathroom.

To me, this says that while I am anxious about traveling to new places, I am very comfortable in our home/city/neighborhood. I know that whatever I need, I can get. I know that there will be no dire emergency or crisis that I am unable to handle. I feel capable and relaxed. As long as I always have my wallet, keys, and some way to check Facebook and Twitter!

Written in response to a prompt from:

 

Knowing Me, Knowing You

"If you really knew me, you would know that..."

Loaded prompt this week eh? I figured I'd compile a list of the things those closest to me should/do know, some of the answers will be provided so that you can get to know me a little better as well. Some of the answers will not be provided...yet...or ever...or only if I get really drunk one night and find myself at my blogger dashboard.

Alright, here goes nothing.

If you really knew me, you would know that...

1. Grande Caramel Macchiato w/whipped.
2. Besides my Associates Degree in Nursing, I also hold an Associates in Russian. Those who know me, know how I got it. Those who really know me, know that I'm terribly disappointed to be in my 30's and still not have that elusive Bachelor's Degree.
3. Sometimes I have a beer in the shower...at 8 o'clock in the morning. Of course on those days it's because I'm just getting home from work and sometimes, after twelve plus hours on a Med/Surg floor, you need a shower AND a beer at the exact same time.
4. I almost always order the same thing at Mexican restaurants: cheese enchiladas w/verde sauce, rice and refried beans. I say almost because occasionally I think I should change things up, order something else, then sulk through the entire meal. If you really knew me, you would always try to talk me out of ordering anything besides my usual dish.
5. On first invitation, for anything, I will most likely say no. It doesn't mean I don't want to make plans or that I don't want to do what was suggested. It's just that my first instinct is to say no. I'm not interested in doing/learning/being/trying anything new, thank you very much. I'm trying to train myself to say "let me think about that" but the people who know me best know better than to accept my first no. They expect that I'll soon warm up to the idea, I just need a little extra time to ruminate. 
6. Jif (creamy) is the only peanut butter in the world. Period. Don't even try to convince me that any other kind of peanut butter exists and don't you dare attempt to bring them into my house.
7. There is one elective surgery I'm very interested in shelling out my hard earned money for.
8. I rarely splurge, but if I do, it's usually on bags. And people who are close to me know that Kate Spade is my favorite. To me, her designs are simple, elegant, classic and timeless.

So there you have it. A few things about me that most people don't know about me. How many of them were a surprise and how many were common knowledge for you?

Written in response to a prompt from:

(You Drive Me) Crazy

"...I just can't sleep. 

I'm so excited, I'm in too deep.

Whoa, crazy, but it feels alright.

Baby thinking of you keeps me UP ALL NIGHT!"

I'm not sure if that's exactly how Elijah would describe his lovely wife, but that's how I picture him. Singing along to the CD I bought him for his 20th birthday (dead true) at the top of his lungs. I've even convinced myself that he keeps the CD hidden in his glove compartment for those days when he's feeling especially nostalgic.

Given that glimpse into our relationship, can you really blame him for sticking with me these past 11 years? Could you even begin to imagine everything anything about me that drives him nuts? I'd love to make a list of all the reasons he's grateful I work two 12 hour night shifts a week, but unfortunately, one of my flaws is my complete and utter denial of having any. I'll have a go at it anyway though, for the sake of my readers.

I know, for a fact that Elijah hates that I have, what he perceives as, no sense of adventure. To me planning for fun goes hand in hand with actually having fun. I don't see this as a flaw (how could I? I actually believe my personality is the definition of perfection) but Elijah would prefer that I let life happen organically a little more often rather than planning everything down to bathroom breaks and snack stops.

Although we've had wonderfully planned trips to Mexico, Amsterdam, Brussels, and Ireland, I'd bet that his favorite vacation with me was the road trip we took to Myrtle Beach in February of 2001. We had a four day weekend and he wanted to just jump in the car and start driving. It didn't matter to him that we didn't know where we'd stay or what we'd end up doing, he was so excited by the fact that we hadn't planning anything. We just pointed to a place on the map and started driving south.

We ended up at this motorcycle dive bar in Myrtle Beach because honestly in February, that's the only bar open. We got a great room with an ocean view (for a steal), took a lovely, but chilly, walk along the beach and then drove around the state until we had to go home. I don't remember much about what we did (other than visiting Wilmington the home of DAWSON'S CREEK!!!) and doing a bit of shopping. But I do remember that we enjoyed each other's company, we laughed a lot, and it didn't matter that the bar had to make us a pitcher of Sex On The Beach because they didn't know the recipe by the glass. It was a great trip and Elijah was right...the fact that we didn't plan a thing only made it better.

So I suppose there is one flaw to my stellar personality. But I must argue that being spontaneous sort of loses it's charm when there are little ones who need to potty every 40 miles and only want to eat PB&J. Maybe once the kids are older we can find a happy medium between my insatiable need to plan and Elijah's yearning to set out without anything other than a map and a full tank of gas.

Valentine's Day

I don't remember what we did on Valentine's Day before we had kids, although, given my love for pajamas, I'm fairly certain that it did not involve candlelit dinners in white table-clothed restaurants. We have always been the "staying in" type of couple so I can't imagine us doing anything more exotic than what we regularly do these days. Thank goodness there was at least one thing that didn't completely turn upside down when the first baby was born!

Here's an all too short list of how we spend this love-filled holiday:

1. I don't do anything crazy creative with Asher's school Valentines, but I do love helping him put together his store bought candy and card creations. It just reminds me of my happiest elementary school times.
2. We always stay in...mostly we lay around and watch The Simpsons.
   
3. Lastly, in my short list of Valentine's Day lame-o, family celebrations: Our V-Day always include a few heart shaped pizzas courtesy of Papa John's.

This post written in response to:

Best Year Yet

Here's a list of things, written to my 2010 self, that I believe will help make 2011 my best year yet. (The assignment called for 20 but I only made it to 17, that was overwhelming enough for me!)

1. Laugh more, especially at your family's lamest of jokes.
2. Say yes more often than no. Or at least consider saying yes. Or at least wait a few moments before immediately jumping to no.
   
3. Give people the benefit of the doubt; especially the people you love.
   
4. Clean your own house. Really. Seriously. Like, even the toilets. Something about pride of ownership blah, blah, blah...mostly it'll just save you money and help us make our 2011 financial goals.
   
5. Make time for dates with Elijah, at least once a month. Alone. Without the kids.
6. Do something for yourself. You deserve the occasional hair cut, caramel macchiato, pedicure, new outfit, etc.
7. Let it be. So Asher insists on wearing his clothes backwards on every self appointed "backwards Thursday" - let it be. So Amelia insists on watching Elmo in Grouchland on a seemingly continuous loop - let it be. So Elijah snores, making it impossible to sleep - put in your earplugs and let it be. None of these things are actually causing any lasting damage and you're spending far too much time snipping at your family for EVERY LITTLE THING. Just let it be.
8. Try for a little spontaneity. Start slowly. Take a different way home. Make a last minute decision to eat out, or just take the kids to the park. Joy comes from unlikely places so be available to be in some unlikely places every now and again.
9. Drive the shitbox, uh, Trooper. At least try to make it through the year. Don't saddle yourself with another expense, not when you have a perfectly good shitbox, uh, vehicle to drive.
   
10. Family vacation? Make it happen. No excuses. Take your wonderful family out together and make some memories dammit!
11. Reconnect. You have several relationships that need tending, relationships that are important, but have been neglected due to the chaos and commotion of the past year or so. Reconnect, it can only bring you more joy.
12. Be thankful, and teach your children how to be thankful as well. You could start with writing those overdue thank you notes from Christmas.
13. Enjoy your career. You love nursing; find a way to love your "job" as well. Focus on furthering your education.
    
14. Eat kinder. You've always talked about shopping at your local farmer's market. Well go do it. You have an amazing one close-by. Find your free-range chicken and organic eggs. You'll enjoy your family dinners more knowing your supporting your local farmers.
15. Allow silence. Especially during important conversations. Not everyone thinks as quickly as you do. Give people a chance to process their thoughts and emotions before continuing to barrage them with your vitriol. More often than not you're jumping to conclusions.
16. Enjoy your babies and keep them close. Allow yourself space but don't continuously keep them at a distance. Sit on the couch and watch more Phineas and Ferb, play squish face with Amelia, and try to find a way to enjoy the Wii. Get off of the computer, phone, etc and get on the floor with your kids.
17. Cook beautiful food. You have all these wonderful cookbooks so use them. Even if only once a month. Make a meal that makes you proud (and then brag about it on your blog!)

This post is written in response to a prompt from:

All Messed Up

Before you judge me as a terrible over sharer of my children's most horrifying moments, keep in mind that I am totally allowed to share this about my son because I asked his permission.

This past Sunday (yes I'm talking about Halloween) was pretty busy. Aside from the craziness that is our normal daily life, we were rushing around trying to get things put together in Asher's bedroom. Halloween is also the day before Asher's birthday which adds another layer of excitement and anxiety throughout the house.

We were feeling a bit neglectful since the kids had spent most of the day either in car seats running errands, or else in front of a TV screen so I really wanted to make sure we had enough time to have a smooth, fun, child-focused evening. Elijah finished up the trim/crown moulding project around three and spent some time playing with the kids while I roasted our pumpkin seeds and got dinner ready. I wanted to start trick-or-treating by 6 so that we could be finished by 8 and there'd still be enough Snickers for me to swipe without notice.

I decided to make chicken pot pie. We had leftover rotisserie chicken from the night before and I had a super easy recipe that used frozen veggies and condensed soup. That is so how I cook for my children these days, as much as I'd like to serve locally grown organic foods, I just don't have the time or energy for any recipe that doesn't have "quick and easy" in the title.

We were totally on track and seated for dinner by 5. I am usually a terrible judge when it comes to how long things will take, (yes, even with a timed recipe), so I was pretty pleased that we'd made it to the table with time to spare. I served dinner and everything seemed to be going well. Amelia and Asher were eating quickly and I thought the meal didn't taste half bad even with the heavy handed slip of marjoram.

Suddenly Asher, after eating about half of his meal, declares that the food is disgusting and he cannot eat another bite. I calmly told him that we were not trick-or-treating until his dinner was finished. We don't usually make him eat everything, but he has a tendency to quit dinner early when there is something else he'd rather be doing and then claims starvation an hour or so later. I knew he'd be walking around all night, eating crap, and I really wanted him to have something at least somewhat nutritious to assuage the "all you can eat" parental guilt.

He was adamant. I mean down-right stubborn. We told him there'd be no trick-or-treating, that Amelia would go out without him and he'd have to stay home and hand out candy. We even used the few early kids that came to our door to drive home the point. All to no avail. He would not budge. Unfortunately, he and I have trouble communicating at times and our disagreements tend to escalate fairly quickly. Elijah was upstairs getting Amelia into her costume so I was left to duke it out with the boy.

Needless to say, it did not go well. The evening simply disintegrated before my eyes. He came at me screaming and crying, refusing to eat his meal. He was sent to his room, sent back to the table, but nothing worked, we could not get him to back down. I was so wrapped up in our battle of wills I didn't even stop to think that he is rarely this obstinate.

Elijah finally pulled the mean dad card, got in his face and told him he had 10 seconds to finish those last two bites or his evening was over. Crying, Asher got the first bite down quickly and the second bite into his mouth.

Then, he proceeded to vomit all over himself and the dinner table.

Elijah and I looked at each other, then at Asher, then we all just started laughing. In between snorts and giggles he just keep saying "I told you so, Mom" over and over again.

We had pushed him past his breaking point and he showed his opposition in the most appropriate manner. My son is so creative.

This post is written in response to a prompt from:

Untitled

I can't share her story because it isn't mine to share.

Even if I felt like I could talk about it, she is barely into the prologue of her diagnosis so, at least for now, there isn't much to say. There is still a great deal of research that must be done before her story can even begin to be written. Still more tests to be performed, more of the seemingly cold, objective, poking and prodding. Without actually going through this experience myself, how could I possibly do justice to the chapters she will soon be facing?

Chapters full of sitting in those damn paper gowns, waiting fearfully for unwanted results in cold, badly lit rooms. Paragraphs describing what it's like to sit across from a grim faced specialist, outlining one seemingly unpalatable option after another. Discussing treatments with people who insist on talking about her body as if it wasn't hers.

Chapters filled with evenings at home, waiting next to a silent phone praying that it will ring. Or perhaps even worse, next to a phone that won't stop ringing. Paragraphs filled with guilt for avoiding people who mean well but can't help but look at her differently. People who reach out because they are healthy and able, reminding her that she is no longer whole.

Will there be a chapter about surgery? Chemotherapy? Radiation? Can anyone definitively stage it yet? What's the actual prognosis? What's being said to her face? What's actually written in the doctor's progress notes?

It's impossible. As much as I'd like to, as much as I feel I NEED to, I can't write a story about the unknown.

I would willingly compose a tale in which I'm the main character.

I imagine that being a nurse, this character would be more comfortable in the myriad of hallways and rooms she'd have to maneuver. She'd know more, at least based on her experience as a caregiver, about the ins and outs of treatment options. What side effects to expect and what signs and symptoms to report. She wouldn't feel as overwhelmed or lost in this sterile, unyielding environment.

No. I can't write her story. Not without permission. Not when the villain is still living incognito. Not until she states how she's going to face her attacker. Until then, we worry via text and get updates through e-mail.

But, I can write about my fears. I can write about how I'm awake, composing this in a silent house, filled with people who know yet are still able to find sleep. I can write about how I spend my days waiting for a phone call, wanting to know more but unwilling to call - afraid to push.

No.

It's not my story to tell, just like, try as I might to place myself in her role as the main character, it isn't my battle to fight.


This post is written in response to a prompt from:

Behind Blue Eyes

The most unbelievable blue eyes I've ever seen belong to my first born child, my baby boy, Asher.

I have brown eyes and my husband's are hazel so seeing Asher's bright blue eyes at birth was miraculous to us. I remember worrying, during his first year, that they would change. It wasn't so much about the color. I think, instead, that I was afraid I'd lose the daily reminder of the perfect blue eyes I first saw on the day of his birth.

Throughout these past six years those eyes have been a constant reminder of that indescribable moment; when I first became a mother. He was born silent, and continued that silence for those first 24 hours in the hospital. He seemed almost thoughtful as if he was taking in his new world, his eyes filled with wonder.

The only thing that's really changed since that first day is the silence. I swear, that child is physically unable to be quiet. But he is still such a thoughtful boy, always trying to figure out the world around him. Questioning how things work and where he belongs. It is such a privilege to take this journey with him and see the world through his eyes.



















This post is written in response to a prompt from:

Just Like Heaven

"How far to heaven? Just open your eyes and look. You are in heaven" -Shankar

In May of 2008 Elijah and I went to Dublin. Amelia was nothing more than a possibility at the time so we left Asher home with his Granny and spent a week alone. Initially we had wanted to find another couple to travel with us. We had gone to Amsterdam and Brussels the year before with Elijah's brother and sister-in-law and really enjoyed sharing the experience with friends. This time, however, our schedule was pretty tight and we were unable to find anyone who could squeeze in a short notice trip. I was excited to have an entire week alone with my husband, but also nervous that we'd get bored or annoyed with each other. (Honestly, I was mostly nervous about him getting bored and annoyed with me as I'm not a very spontaneous and laid back person.)

We discussed a few sights we didn't want to miss, such as the Guinness Storehouse, Killmainham Gaol and an additional day trip to Kilkenny, but other than that, we really wanted to relax and take our time exploring Dublin. The weather was perfect. We had a full week without rain (other than the slight drizzle we landed in) and were able to really soak in the beauty of the public greens.

It was a perfect vacation in every way. We laughed at getting lost together. We planned our next day's adventure over long, quiet, child free romantic dinners. We finished bottles of wine, tasted gallons of beer, bought bizarre Irish junk food and gorged ourselves while watching random TV shows in bed.

This trip reminded us that, although we have both grown and changed throughout our nine years together, we are still so very much in love. There is not only familiarity and comfort in our relationship, there is also excitement and laughter. We can miss the train to Kilkenny and take a surprisingly unplanned excursion to a coastal city without being anything but happy to be doing it with each other. We can eat every meal together for a week and still have something to talk about. We still want to hold hands while walking down the street and are just as content laying in bed watching TV together as we were when we did it in our old dorm rooms.

Elijah is the love of my life; my perfect counterpoint. That week we spent together still serves as a reminder that my heaven: kisses me every morning before work, mows the lawn and takes out the trash, chases his children around the house, then lays down next to me at night.

In short, my heaven is wherever he is.


This post is written in response to a prompt from:



(I'm pretty sure it was last week's prompt but it's my first week following the prompts and I got all mixed-up with the timing. Rookie mistake.)