On Love and forgiveness

Love is a many layered and complicated thing, in my experience.  It is often accompanied not only by feelings of fondness and comfort, but also by painful remembrances of past hurts that (at times) still sting.   

I have chosen to love others, and others have chosen to love me (despite my many, many failings).  I have been hurt, and I have hurt others.  What I have learned is this: none of the relationships that I maintain would be possible without forgiveness and Love, and the relationships that have failed have done so because Love was forgotten and forgiveness was denied.

It seems that the monumental task of forgiving or asking for forgiveness is severely diminished in the presence of Love, and Love thrives when we are able to forgive.  Funny how it’s always so cyclical, don’t you think?

Anywho, it is this humble writer’s opinion that all hurts, pains, grievances… EVERYTHING pales in comparison to the great gift of Love.  It is my hope that each of you seek out the bright, beaconing light that is Love in all who cross your path, especially in those who have hurt you.  And beyond hope, it is my belief that when you find Love in others, you will experience true happiness, not just pleasure, but true happiness in measures so great that there will not be words to describe it.

In case you wonder what Love personified looks like, please see below.

Selfish

Three years of parenting will take it out of you, if you don't take some quality time for yourself.  At least, that's what I am finding.  T is really great about making time to workout every day, surf when the opportunity presents itself, and he does watch the occasional Dodger game... by occasional we are clearly talking 160 plus.  In short, he does man things.  Frequently.  And, you know what?  He still excels in his career, as a father, and certainly as a husband.

As he often is, T has been my inspiration in this - to force myself not to lose... well, myself.  I sometimes become so deeply immersed in taking care of our family or in making sure the home is clean or that dinner is cooked that I forget to work on bettering ME.  Let's be honest here, sometimes the biggest problem is that I am too damn lazy.

I took a minute to write down some things that bring me joy and make me who I am (aside from "Mom" and "Wife")

1) Looking feminine (makeup, hair, nails... but not heels)

2) Getting a little dirty in my garden
3) Interior Design / Refinishing and restoring old pieces

Refinished that stool, grew those plants, and that cute baby

4) Run

5) Practice Yoga
6) Write
7) Read something

8) Scrapbook

9) Travel

10) Bike (like beach cruisin'... you know, actual 8 year old bike riding)

Yes, my bike has a name - Elwood Blues

11) Museum browsing (embarrasing, I know)

I might not be able to do every single one of these each day, but a lot of them (individually) I can get done in under an hour.  I have at least an hour (or 2) for ME every.single.day.

What is on your list?  Do you try to cross a few of them off that list every day?

Cheers to the moms

She's ALIVEEEEEEE!  No really, I am.  Life is just too fast moving for me.  Most days I think, "Oh maybe I'll drop a line on the ole blog today," and then, suddenly, the day is gone, T is home and he so good looking and distracting, and then it's 9:30pm and I can't keep my eyes open for another second... ok, maybe 8:30.

Anyway, good thing you have missed next to nothing in this mundane moma's domestically joyous life.  Baby Shane's mobility is certainly the most exciting this that has happened around here.

BabyButt

MOBILITY!

Also, there was this hilarious dance party.

Other than that nothing too exciting.

I have, however, come to the conclusion that we momas sometimes have a thankless job.  Being  mother to two crazies of my own, I know my own poor mother was horrifically under-appreciated by yours truly.  I mean seriously, those spiral peeled, cored apples are a labor of love.  Also, clean floors in the bathroom - I really took those for granted, let me tell you.  R-doggie might be potty trained, but damn that kid needs to work on his aim.  Or how about dinner?  Warm, nutritious meals in the dining room every night (**almost), that is how you should know that I love you.   But you would have preferred pizza?!  EAT.THAT.DAMN.BROCCOLI... Oh, oh and how about that bedtime story (or 20) when all a woman wants to do is fall face flat onto her pillow?  Moms do a lot and usually pretty happily.  After all, this is a chosen profession.

#worthit

So, even though I know you were happy to do it (**mostly) and even though it is, perhaps, over due by 30 years or so, thank you Barbara Alyce Terkelsen.  Thank you to all you momas out there loving your crazy kids and annoying significant others.

You kick ass.

Just call me Patience.

We recently returned from an adults’ only retreat to old Mexico.  The wedding was beautiful, so were the beaches, and the booze – it was flowing.  We shared a condo with two of our favorite people and enjoyed quality time with too many loved ones to count.  My kindly, sainted mother watched the boys at home, and the trip was a rare and lovely treat.  Even so, all the while, we terribly missed the boys' angelic faces.

Aren’t they cute?  Pictures can be deceptive.  These pictures certainly are. 

Upon arrival, we were me with an onslaught of smooches and warm hugs.  “Mommy, Daddy look I made!” – in reference to an easel full of dry-erase scribbles; “Gamma git me bike! I ride it fassss! Vroooom!” – in reference to the shiny, new, red radio flyer trike sitting in my living room;  “I go pak with Gamma, Pa, Baby Sheene!  Have ice ceem with Wandall LaLa!” – in reference to apparent happenings during our absence.  “Mama where Nini?  Where Unc Tom?  Nini at scoo.  Unc Tom at home with Dude and Coe” – in reference to his Aunt Nini and his Uncle Tommy.  Ah, and those gummy, perfect smiles from baby S…  It was all so sweet, and my heart nearly exploded from the cuteness of it all. 

Now, a few days later, we have resumed to some level of normalcy, and I am left wondering why the hell I didn’t stay in Mexico that extra day that T tried to push.  Seriously.  Why???  I now remember that laughing eyes and a crooked grin from the Box usually means that he has destroyed something, somewhere… or is about to “hug” the life out of his brother… or perhaps is getting ready to torment the poor dog or innocent cat.  S can’t sit by himself for two minutes, and it all constantly leaves me feeling like I might internally combust.  Believe me, you, ‘calmly’ explaining why throwing baseballs at a plate-glass window isn’t allowed is trying.  I lamented my frustrating, domestic situation to my mother.  What I got in response was a knowing grin and a new nickname.  Just call me Patience.

A toast… to a Big Gulp of good wine (or whatever is in stock) at the end of those long days and to patience.

Daydreams

Before I start in, I have to let you all in on a secret.  I am cheating on T.  I am cheating on him with the most delicious, desirable mistress (mister?)  ever to have been known – Brookside Dark Chocolate Acai & Blueberries.  Omg.  I dream about these little morsels.  I salivate at the mere mention of them.  They complete me, and I belong to them… alright, over-exaggeration of the day, but they really are wonderful, and I am obsessed, as of late.  Try them.  Thank me later.

I am an HGTV fanatic, and am constantly looking for little ways to improve my own homey, little space.  I cultivate our happy patio garden, prune the roses, rearrange and re-upholster furniture, thrift for fun little accessories, and periodically change up linens.  It’s always fun, but isn’t the ultimate dream to build a custom piece of the American Dream?  That was rhetorical.  There is but one correct answer, and it is, “yes!”   Ugh, and travelling.  My wish list is nearly endless – Paris, Rome, Greece, Germany, Costa Rica… I want to see it all!  Don’t even get me started on my closet.  Those sinful, red soled beauties; the heavenly textiles that remain impossibly impractical and mostly out of financial reach…

If we could just win that 51 million dollar lotto jackpot…  Wait… do you have to play to win??  Oh, what I would do with those winnings!  Some days I think I could just waste away, like those trapped in front of Harry’s Mirror of Erised, fantasizing.

I am an avid advocate for daydreams, and in my humble opinion, giving up on idle imaginings just because you’ve lived for a couple (a few, or several) decades would be a serious sin.  We do have to live in reality though, and in truth, I am glad of it.  Living on a budget forces me to push the bounds of creativity in our home.  I treasure the frequent moments I spend surrounded by my favorite people in the one great room in our home.   The brief getaways we have are a consummate joy, and when we do splurge on small luxuries, they that much more exciting.  My life may be humble, but it is certainly happy. 

In closing, I enjoy having an imagination, the same way I enjoy a good book.  But I LOVE my reality, and there is no analogy for that.

Stop and smell those roses, while they're in bloom.

Tomorrow is only a day away

As I sit on my applesauce covered couch surrounded by the aftermath of RWW’s toy-nado (reference below), I am left with one conclusion - today has not been a productive day.  

I blame it primarily on the 3am wakeup call provided by my sick, but still impossibly happy 6 month old.  Thank God for that dimpled morning smile, otherwise I certainly wouldn't make it through days like today.  I was far too tired to brew myself a pot of coffee.  That’s usually T’s morning responsibility.  Alas, he is away, leaving me sad and coffee-less in the mornings.   RWW’s diet is usually relatively wholesome and well-balanced, but given the circumstances, goldfish and applesauce seemed like a reasonable choice for breakfast.  We did manage to get it together enough to make our 9:30a run.   

Upon arrival I discovered that we were rolling with a bad flat.  Thankfully, one of the other, more prepared mother runners supplied a pump so we could make it through.  It was a lackluster run, and I was screamed at for a good ¾’s of the way.   I seriously considered stopping by the grocery store on the way home, but who was I kidding?  A venti bold drip clearly won that battle.   We then proceeded home grocery-less and on an empty gas tank where, after a heated battle about naptime, I wasted away that sweet, undisturbed hour and a half browsing the web for a new diaper bag (??).  Stupid.  

We now return to the present, where I sit on that ever soiled couch.  How will this day end?  Will I turn it around, clean up the house, start dinner, and maybe get some tactiles out to work on counting?  Probably not.  Laying in the backyard, a little gardening, and some tee ball somehow sounds far more appealing.  Anyway, how could I say no to this?

Let's Catch Up

What a weekend.

This is some of the aftermath - three loads in, you guys.  Three large, heavy loads.  Granted, I can't solely credit this weekend for the mountain of laundry in our entry hall.  This morning when he left for work, T asked, and I quote, "I'd really like it if you could do laundry today."  I was all, "Sure.  No problem, big boy."  Then the kiss of death - he said, "AND put it away."  OOOOOOHHHH whoa is me! Foiled by his stupid lawyer brain once again.  I despise folding and putting away.

I made this apron for a white elephant party.  I had it laying on my dining room table the night my sister came over to watch the Bachelor (only God will judge me).  She walked in and exclaimed, "OhMaGawd, Jen!!  You won best Housekeeper!!  You so deserve it!"  I just about peed my pants with delight over both the compliment and the hilarity of the statement (reference above).

The Box had his first sleepover!  Note to all parents who haven't yet made the same mistake - I do NOT recommend it.  Yes, it was the most exciting day of my little's guy's life and a pretty wonderful one for the moms... until we finally got around to going to bed at 1:30am.  The peanuts stayed up until about 9 (well past bedtime), watched The Jungle Book, and ate pizza.  The mom's gossiped, laughed, and drank wine into the wee hours.  We were all so looking forward to snuggling in under downy covers and dreaming those happy, wine-soaked dreams when suddenly we heard that dreaded whine.  First from one room, then a second, and finally all three rooms of babes were alive with cries for "Moma."  Wahhhh wahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.  It was a rough night and a worse morning.  Even Russell needed Starbucks the next morning.  Chill out mom police - it's just a vanilla steamer.

Jam sesh

movie and snacks

recovery drink

Today I went to Target for cough medicine and left about $80 poorer.  What did I even buy?!  How does that store do it?  Every time.  Dammit.  Also, I got my middlest (not to be confused with my littlest) sister to wear baby S while we strolled through that money pit of a store.  Aren't they cute?

Speaking of that littlest sister, she rang last night at 11pm and was all, "Hey gurrrl.  HEYYYY!!  Oh were you sleeping?"  Little M still thinks I'm cool!  I wish I were 20 again - such a fabulous age to be.

Let's see.  What else do I have for you?.............  I ripped a giant hole in the inseam of my yoga pants at class last night while working my dragonfly.  That was fun.  Also everyone in the house is ill - humidifiers, the NoseFrida, and cough syrup are running on all cylinders.  I know you're disgusted by the NoseFrida. I was when my mom brought it home for me, but seriously, give it a chance.  It is 5million times better than any other nasal aspirator out there!

gross, yet effective.

That's all I've got.  Cheers to you, you beautiful people.