*trust in the stuggle*

 

 

I'm deep in the trenches of some beautiful and difficult life lessons. Mostly about the giving up of control, the surrendering.  Trusting in the struggle.  Every time I pull a tarot card for myself, there is it, this message staring right back at me----hold the course and all will be made clear with time. It's the time part that's hard--sometimes I want the answers, and I want it all to be revealed now.  Like now now. 

It's the waiting that's the struggle for me.

Is it hard for you, too?

I'm also learning things about the different ways that people show up for us in our lives.  Sometimes I'm blown away from the kindness of people----a surprise delivery of homemade blueberry muffins when I'm having a particularly weepy day.  The offer to take one of my kids who's driving me insane.  I could go on and on.  But the flipside of this beauty are the feelings of loneliness and abandonment by others in my life.  There are some roads that we must travel alone.  Sometimes the only true person that can show up for us is ourselves.  There is a deep kind of beauty in this lesson, too.  I'm trying to be patient with myself as I learn more about how I show up for others, and how others show up for me.

In the meantime, we've been finishing up the summer with lots of beach time.  Watching my children learn news skills, and keep trying.  Watching them struggle and fail and sometimes succeed.  (Surfing and skim boarding are so incredible to watch!)   My children are little parts of me walking around, teaching me.  Now that they are back to school, I'm missing them, but also trying to cherish the rare moments that we are all together.  I look forward to the lessons they have to teach me as we move forward into the Fall.

summer love

(this gorgeous heart-shaped crystal was gifted to me by Grace's bestie for my anniversary---it's so special and I'll treasure it forever!)

Summer is hands-down my most favorite season.  For us, it is a time to have long, slow days at home, doing nothing much except sharing meals together, reading, and playing video games.  The occasional dip in the pool.  Popsicles for dessert.  Sand all over the floors and wet towels strewn about the house.  It's time on the hockey ice, and time on the softball field.  It's time in the garden and time sipping iced coffees on the deck.  It's cocktails at 2pm and laying down in the AC for early bedtimes.  It's sticky, it's sweaty, it's bickering all day long.  It's dog-eared pages in books and day trips with friends.  It's you take my kids today, and then I'll take yours.  It's please stop over and eat Cheeze-Its with us on the back deck while we get eaten alive by mosquitoes.  It's piles of treasures from the beach and chocolate melting in the sun.  Grocery bills that are through the roof because we keep gathering with friends.  It's feeling like every day together is a good enough reason to celebrate.  It's about feeling good in our skins while we lounge around half-dressed.  It's feet that need pedicures, it's dirty heels and rough edges.  It's pick-up-pizza nights and eat-on-the-fly nights.  It's long days on the beach and never wanting it all to end.  It's dusty, grubby, and beautiful. 

Some people count the days until the kids go back to school but I try to savor each moment (and trust me, lots of them are really annoying moments that make me want to lock myself in my room with a good book) while I have my kids home with me.  August marks the beginning of our true vacation and I can't wait to embrace the true beach bum that I am!

Here's to summer!  xoxo 

14 years and counting

This past week Johnny and I celebrated our 14th wedding anniversary.  If you asked me when our actual wedding date is, I would say something like "Ummm, I think it's June 28th.  Or it's the 30th.  Wait...how many days are there in June?  Because maybe it's the 31st."  Even as I sit here writing this, I honestly cannot remember the date.  But the date matters less and less as time goes by.  The older we get, the prouder I am of our good solid foundation.  I try not to take it for granted.  Relationships between our friends are crumbling around us.  It's no secret that marriage, or long-term partnerships, are hard.  Like living in the trenches, tear-your-heart-out hard.  So the fact that we are still going strong after all these years...I'll celebrate.  You know, on the 28th.  Or the 30th.  Or somewhere in between.

John and I got married when we were young.  Now, with a preteen at home, it's kind of insane to me when I think that we got engaged in college and then married when we were 22.  We dated way back when----when we were Gray's age...middle school!  And yes, we have the notes to prove it.  (And yes, we've probably shown them to you while we drank cocktails together on our back deck. Sorry for that.)  The picture you see above is our only wedding photo.  Which is why it is so special to me...I would literally grab it off the wall if I had to run out of my house if it was on fire.  John made this photo for me illegally and surprised me with it on one of our anniversaries. (If we were on my deck having more cocktails, I would tell you the story about why we only have one wedding photo, which involves a sad tale about paying a photographer in full, the photographer coming and shooting the wedding, and then that photographer claiming bankruptcy and then running off with everyone's wedding photos.  But I'll spare you!)  The picture captures the essence of us perfectly---and yes, I had cornrows in my hair for my wedding, thank you very much.

I am truly grateful that I enjoy spending time with my husband.  We like each other!  I joke with my friends that we have such a good marriage because we don't get to spend a lot of time together.  (And lots of people in town joke with me that John doesn't even actually exist---he's like Sasquatch!)  When we first got married, he was in the Army and left for Kosovo for ten months.  Then it was various trainings and camps and moves here and there.  And of course I was traveling and doing my own things as well.  Now he's travelling multiple days a week and again, I've always got my own adventures that pull me away from home.  With the kids getting older, we often find ourselves splitting our time between various sporting events and other commitments.  Our time together is precious, so when we get it, we try not to squander it.  Which doesn't mean that sometimes we just crash into bed at 9pm and both look at our phones until we pass out.  There are plenty of times when we just don't have anything left to give each other.  But the key to our success is that we still just love to be around each other.  And we try not to bitch about one another, to ourselves or anyone else. We aren't perfect...far from it.  But we love.  Because love is where it's at.  xo

bear spirit and squam magic

This was the first year I attended Squam as an official part of the event management team, and let me tell you, it did not disappoint.  Being away from my day to day work and home life for eight consecutive days with little to almost no phone coverage was a challenge in and of itself, but the week flew by and was filled with lots of work, but also lots of time for soul connections and fun.  I actually partied so hard and binged on an unlimited amount of cookies and various other delicacies that I came home over three pounds heavier, happy as a clam, and in need of some major cave-time.

What I loved most about my role in behind-the-scenes Squam was being able to witness the magic from another angle.  Instead of being immersed in the magic when we arrived, we got to create it.  It felt like an incredibly special gift to be able to create "that Squam experience" for people on a blank (albeit beautiful) canvas.  While we were setting up for the first couple of days, there were many times when we paused and thought "Oh, this would be an awesome spot to set up something special so people can take pictures" or "These chairs should be closer to the fire because it's going to be cold tonight", etc.  That part was my bread and butter.  I loved watching it all unfold when people arrived.  Friendships were made, hearts cracked open, and women became vulnerable.  It just never gets old.

After work there was definitely some wine to be had, and stories to be told around the fire.  I spent some time with two decks of cards, tarot and animal medicine.  My friend and new partner-in-crime brought an animal medicine deck of cards and I felt the pull so strongly to choose a card.  A message needed to come through.  I pulled bear on the docks under the bright sun, and it was perfect.  Bear. 

Bear symbolizes strength and confidence, and leadership.  Bear spirit also signifies healing---both the healing of oneself, and using healing powers to help others.  Bear represents hunkering down, but also emergence after cave time.  Bear is there when strength is needed during times of challenge and difficulty.  Bear symbolizes the immense power of inner strength.

Bear is calling to me, and I'm answering it's call.  This Squam was a huge turning point for me, a real stepping into my power.  I love how Bear encompasses a lot of dualities----being an empath and an extroverted introvert, I get it.  I get the social time, needing to commune, and then I get the cave time, the needing to listen to my own voice.  Bear spirit speaks to me.  Squam speaks to me because it honors both sides of me.

I can't wait to see what type of magic Fall Squam brings.  xo

on tuning in, and tuning out

These past few months have been so filled with all the good stuff----parties, people, connecting, art, messes, sleepovers, dinners, dates, drinks.  The closer I get to the big 4-0, the more I crave spending time doing things that I love to do, with the people that I love to do them the most with.  John and I have officially found our favorite local hangout spot, and we try to sneak out as much as possible for real life adult dates!  It's addicting.  You know...because we can actually talk, without someone farting on us or filming their own makeup tutorial or fighting over homework or...

So pretty much the best thing ever.

The older I get, the more I literally c.r.a.v.e. listening to people's stories.  I'm that annoying person leaning on the counter at the tire shop, listening to the guy pour his guts out to me about his life story.  I try to order a coffee and the next thing I know I'm hugging people and taking numbers.  I could sit for hours and hear about why people are the way they are and why they've ended up where they are (as long as it's not past my bedtime.  And in that case, shhhhhhhhhhhh....).  I mean it though, if you've got a story to tell, come to me.  Sit down and tell it, because I'm all ears. 

In other news, gone are the days that I give a rats-ass about what people are thinking of me.  I've stopped reaching out for people's approval of my choices.  I'm all about hearing people talk, unless they're waxing poetic about why I should rethink something I've chosen to do.  It's absolutely liberating, because now there are no limits.  2015 has some big surprises on the horizon, some incredible things that I certainly wouldn't be doing if I were seeking outside approval.  There are tiny little tough moments of wondering what others will think, but I try my best to take a deep breath and let it wash over me.  Stay tuned for more on this!

I'm simultaneously tuning in, and tuning out!

++++

Now we're moving into heavy softball season.  All three kids are playing sports now---Lu's in teeball, Joey's playing spring and summer hockey, and Gray is on two softball teams.  Being a working mom who's mostly a stay-at-home mom while my husband
travels, and getting everyone where they need to be is a challenge.  Luckily I've got the best support team in town and there is always someone willing to help me split myself into three places at once.  Shout out to all my friends who save my butt on the daily!

As we finally are able to enjoy the spring weather, I'm getting ready to leave for Squam for eight days.  This will be the longest time I'll be away from the kids, as well as the longest time I've ever been at Squam.  I'm blessed to be able to be on the team this year because I believe so deeply in the beauty that is Squam Art Workshops.  I get to work (with a bit of play), doing something I love!  I long for the hustle and bustle of getting everyone settled, setting up the parties, pumping the kegs, and making the magic happen.  John and my parents will be holding down the fort while I'm gone.  All will be as it should.  All will be well.  (I keep repeating this in my head to make myself feel better). 

Off to go make a big pile of tulle into something lovely and magical!  Then headed away for the night to paint and make jewelry with friends.  It's a charmed life, I tell you.  Tell me what you've got cooking up... xoxo

vitiligo and reclaiming my leg

I've learned one thing lately----and it's DON'T ask people about their opinions about tattoos before you get them.  Don't ask them IF you should get one, don't ask them about placement, don't ask them if they like the design, if they think you'll regret it.  Just make the damn appointment and get the damn tattoo, already (that is of course, if you're into it)!  *With that being said, Auntie Nicole, I appreciate your opinions about the skull tattoos very much :) 

So, with that being said, I'm in the process of reclaiming my leg.  Ever since I was born I've had vitiligo, a skin condition that results in the absence of pigment, from my hip to my ankle on my right leg.  It's not severe, but it looks mottled and uneven, and when I jump in the ocean or get cold, the whiteness becomes super-white and the rest turns dark purple.  It shows up in pictures, and it's always been a part of me.  Coupled with some insane bow-leggedness, I've got some funky ass legs.  I can't say that I have a lot of baggage about it, but recently I started thinking about working on a "half-sleeve" on one of my thighs.  And in my head, I immediately thought, "Well, guess I only have one leg to work with...gotta go with my left".  But the more I thought about it, the more it bothered me.  Why discount a whole part of my body just because it wasn't "perfect"?  So almost on a whim (I did so some research first, I'm not that cray cray), I made a tattoo appointment, and sat my butt down and got my vitiligoed-right-leg tattooed.  I decided to reclaim it.  It's mine, it's beautiful, it's the way that I am.  And it's going to look even more awesome covered in really beautiful things that I like.  The end.

The coolest part of my first leg tattoo experience was when I told my tattoo artist about it.  And he shared a story about vitiligo and how he thinks that the white spots are beautiful.  It's his story to tell so I won't share it here, but it solidified my decision that I was on the right path.  The white spots are beautiful.  So are the dark ones.  And the spaces in between are ours to fill up the way we want.  We talked about not waiting and not worrying, not asking for permission or wondering what other people think.   I felt simultaneously really really old, and like I was just beginning something amazing.

Tattoos or no-tattoos, the lesson here is simple-----you want to do something, do it.  Nobody is going to make it happen for you.  You don't like something about yourself?  Reframe it, flip it, look at it a different way.  Color it beautiful and make it yours.  xoxo

farting in yoga

2015 is here, a new year and a fresh start.  I love the possibilities that a new year presents---12 months to pack with adventures, new experiences, mistakes, learning opportunities, and growth.  I won't set a word or intention for this year---I'm just going to try to be flexible to whatever comes my way, both the good and the bad.  We'll see how that goes.

In the meantime, here's what I'd like to discuss-----yoga.  And more specifically, farting in yoga.  Why is nobody talking about farting in yoga class?  I love yoga and I've been enjoying taking all different types of classes in the area.  But I have to be honest here----I spend seriously like 95% of class thinking about farting, obsessing about it actually.  How come nobody is farting or talking about it or obsessing about it like me?  I am fully aware that this is counterintuitive to the whole yoga thing!      It's hard to get in the zone and be present with rumbles in the jungle.

I say farting, but I think my friend describes it better when she refers to it as "air leaving the body".  It's more all-encompassing that way.

And even though nobody is obsessing about it, I like to continually bring it up to my friends and pretty much force them to talk about it.  Basically I just want them to admit that it's a real and true issue for them, too.  After birthing five babies, it's an issue that's real and present for me.  I want it to be real for other people, too.

Google it, people!  I did.  It's a real problem.

So you know what?  I will have a resolution this year.  It's not to worry about farting in yoga.  I will do my three-legged dog and see what comes my way.  I will do inversions and plow and not give one care.  And I will continually force everyone and anyone to talk about bodily functions with me, making me feel better. ;)

And if you're offended by this blog post, I'm sorry, but I'm too busy farting in yoga to care.

xo

Growing old and the great invisibility cloak

2014 was pretty much the best year ever for me.  I learned to take things in stride, to stress less, to welcome scary things (like the good kind of scary things) into my life.  I learned to stretch and grow and do all that awesome stuff that you promise yourself you'll do at the beginning of a new year.  I made a lot of milk, I had surgery on my ass, I gained a ton of weight, and recently lost a ton of weight.  I went on dates with my friends and rented a beach cottage and went on retreats and started taking yoga and spent time with my kids and read a lot of books.  And I learned the biggest lesson of all...

the older I get, the braver I get...and I am able to do so because I am becoming more and more invisible. 

Maybe 'invisible' isn't the best word for what I'm talking about.  I just find that lately I can pretty much do whatever I want, wear whatever crazy-ass gypsy outfit I dream up, and nobody cares.  I can try new things or fail or succeed or stay in bed all day long and it doesn't matter. Maybe the secret is nobody ever cared and my fear just tricked me into thinking they did.  Maybe people still care and I just don't give a shit.

Maybe the teenagers at the grocery store call me "Ma'am" and offer to load my truck up with groceries, and we all know damn well that that means I am officially getting old.

Whatever it is, it's awesome!  Like really life-changing awesome.  People don't notice me, and if they do, I don't notice or give one crap if they do!  I am free from the fear of other people judging me. 

For 2015, if I want to try it, I will!  If I want to take a siesta and do face masks and watch Girlfriend's Guide to Divorce all day I will.  If I want to wear stretch pants out in public and pretend they are real pants and, oh yeah, I'm wearing my slippers, too, then BONUS.  I'm feeling it.  I'm getting old and I'm wrapping myself up in this rad invisibility cloak and I'm going to do

WHATEVER THE HELL I WANT.

*The End*

a belly full of gratitude

The week leading up to Thanksgiving was a complete trainwreck.  The stomach bug came knocking, and took each one of us down in turn.  Most of us made it to the toilet, and some of us did not.  I had three full sleepless nights, tending to each kid as they suffered through the night.  I was sick too for eight days total but couldn't really take care of myself while spraying bleach around in a sleepless daze. 

One of the benefits is that I didn't really have a lot of time to stress about hosting Thanksgiving.  It was just something at the end of the week that I knew was coming.  I didn't take up all my china and set the table days prior like I used to.  I didn't stress that the grout wasn't clean enough in the bathroom.   I didn't obsess over the menu.  I honestly just didn't have time.

Now let me preface this little tale by saying that John was going to be away for Thanksgiving.  He left Wednesday and wasn't coming home until late Thursday night.  I wanted to host Thanksgiving anyway---since I was away in the hospital for Christmas last year, it was important to me that we be home for Thanksgiving even with John's absence.  So I asked for help.  My family is amazing and offered to pick up so much of the Thanksgiving slack so I could make the magic happen at my place----like bringing ALL the pies and the stuffing and the squash and carrots and I could go on and on.  So the load was light, which was a blessing.

Wednesday brought with it an snow storm, with really heavy snows that brought a tree down perilously close to our house.  It also caused the power to go out overnight.  I woke in the morning to a phone that had about three seconds of power left in it, and a handful of messages from neighbors offering help with the generator.  I said yes.  I needed help.  I put aside my feelings of guilt for taking away neighbors from their own families and I asked for help.  My gratitude was overflowing out of my eyeballs...I don't remember ever crying so much. 

Now don't get me wrong---I had quite the pity party Thursday morning.  No power, a big ass turkey, and no way to get the thing in the oven at 6am as planned (our generator doesn't run our oven).  A big huge mound of frozen wet snow at the end of my driveway that I was too weak to shovel (I tried...and cried).  No way for the kids to eat their Thanksgiving morning cinnamon buns or watch the parade.  My pity party was quite a sight, and in retrospect, really unnecessary.  We were still together (sort of).  We were healthy (well, sort of).  There were people crawling out of the woodwork to help us have a successful day.  While one neighbor fired up the generator (not an easy task), another plowed my driveway, and another took my kids to their house to watch the parade.  I cried in the shower, and pulled myself together.  And right as I was packing up the car with my turkey and all the fixings to move the party to another location...

the power came back on.

And we had the most perfectly imperfect day I could have ever dreamed of.  My gratitude was amplified and everything seemed a bit more rosy as usual.  My family rallied around me (I think I scared them all with my hysterical crying in the morning---they aren't used to seeing that side of me).  The tumultuous week ended in the most perfect of Thanksgivings, and for that I am eternally grateful.


*my apologies for passing on the stomach flu to a couple of beloveds!*

that deep sigh

*sigh*

These past few weeks, I've been immersed in work.  I call it work, but I love it so much sometimes I feel badly for accepting compensation for what I do.  My path has crossed with so many beautiful individuals---people struggling, people needed to be uplifted, people invested in their health and wellness.  People who've never had any bodywork before.  Sick people, healthy people, happy and sad, people needing to be seen and heard.  I meet them wherever they're at on the table.

The best thing I ever did nine years ago was going back to school for massage.  Not only was I able to learn about a skill that I am deeply passionate about, but it gave me the ability to create my own schedule, and do what I truly love to do.  I love that look on a person's face when they get up from the table.  That deep sigh. That telltale relaxing of the shoulders.  I love when people get to lie down for an hour (or more) and have me completely take care of them.  It's an honor to do the work I do, and for that I am deeply grateful.


What are you doing today to invest in your wellness? 

an hour of sanity

Once a week, I head to the library for Lulu's storytime.  She's old enough now to go into class by herself, which leaves an hour for me-time.  Except this year, I'm choosing to spend it with a group of moms.  We sit at a table together.  Some of us knit, some of us talk, some of us just listen.  We share stories and plan crafts. We problem solve.  It's the fastest hour of my life, and sometimes it's a lifesaver.

Today I went into storytime at the end of my rope with Lulu.  I was grumpy, frustrated, and just wanted to go back to bed.  But the simple act of sitting together and being with other moms lifted me up.  At the end of the hour, when Lu ran out and hugged me, I was refreshed and ready to go back home and not kill her.  So I'm counting that as a win!

Eternally grateful for the network of mamas that lift me up when I need it. 

*cough cough cough* remedy

My neighbor made this for me last year (yes, I have awesome neighbors who drop off hippie remedies and kombucha!) when I was dealing with my first ever cough and some major rib pain.  I took a teaspoon of it and I swear I was singing its praises!  It really gives you a little kick but is still sweet and not too offensive.  It clears out your sinuses and allows to you breathe. I made up a batch and stuck it in my fridge so it's ready for when any of the troops get sick.  I'm imagining that it will keep for a while, but I don't concern myself too much with things like shelf-lives, so don't take my word on it. 

*cough cough cough I feel like poo* remedy

4 tablespoons of Bragg's apple cider vinegar

4 tablespoons of water

4 tablespoons of local (or raw, or whatever) honey

1/2 tsp cayenne pepper

1/2 tsp ground ginger

You can take a teaspoon, or a tablespoon, or whatever feels right for you.  Give it to the little ones, give it to the big ones.  With each use, give it a good shape.  It won't be thick and syrupy...it will be more liquidy.  That's OK!  It's yet another cool trick to have up your sleeve when you or a loved one feels like complete pooballs.

earthy crunchy fire cider recipe

I posted about my fire cider making day on Instagram, and there was some interest in the recipe.  Fire cider is a all-natural, antimicrobial, homeopathic health tonic used as a preventative or as a way to fight off a sickness that has already taken hold.  It's base is apple cider vinegar, which in itself is a powerhouse.  The ingredients, when combined, support digestive health and boost immunity.  A shot of this cider will put hair on your chest and kick that cold to the curb without having to run to the drugstore! 

I used the following recipe, which is an amalgamation of lots of recipes that I culled from Pinterest.  Feel free to add or subtract ingredients to your liking.  There really is no right or wrong when it comes to fire cider. 

::Earthy Crunchy Fire Cider (that will knock your socks off)::

*1 quart of Organic apple cider vinegar (we used Bragg's)

*the zest of one orange

*1/2 cup horseradish root, grated

*about 10 fresh, organic rosemary sprigs

*1/8 cup of garlic, chopped

*1/2 cup of onion, chopped

*1/2 cup of ginger, grated

*1 tsp of cayenne pepper

*2 tablespoons of raw honey

This recipe actually made two jars worth of fire cider for us.  You may need a bit more apple cider vinegar.  We just divided all the other ingredients evenly between two of the bigger sized mason jars, and then topped them both off with ACV.  Just make sure your ingredients are completely covered.

It is recommended that you let this brew steep, preferably for 8 weeks but for the minimum of 4.  So it's a great idea to get this prepped now before cold and flu season hits.  After 4-8 weeks, strain mixture through a fine cheesecloth into a clean jar.  When you feel like poo, take a shot of this concoction and you'll have those germs running for the fences!

Enjoy! 

being me, bravely

I'm part of a local moms' group that meets every other week in town.  It's one of those things that I was initially pretty resistant to sign up for---another commitment, something to show up for and something that would require me to be present and real for.  Would I sign up and then not want to go because I felt like I had to?  What if I just wanted to go to yoga class and lie in savasana instead?  What if I just wanted to curl up with a book for an hour while Lulu was at school and feel resentful that I had to go socialize?

 

Despite my reservations, I signed up.  At the first meeting, we were informed that the theme for the year is "Be You, Bravely."  At first it didn't speak to me.  I wasn't getting the message.  What did I have to be brave about?  Then I attended my second meeting, and after hearing a very powerful speaker offer us her story of bravery, the whole message really got driven home. 

 

These past few months for me have been huge on the bravery front.  I had to be brave to have a C-section alone, with no support, on Christmas Day while my family was tucked into their beds.  I had to be brave to go to the doctor and pursue treatment and surgery in May.  I hate going to the doctor and never go.  I'm that person who doesn't know who their PCP is.  I didn't want to go at all.  But I knew something was wrong and I knew that my old ways of ignoring things and pretending that everything was fine wasn't going to work anymore.  I've had to be brave tackling the state of my postpartum body.  After I attended Squam (where I had a humbling experience where I couldn't hike up a mountain with my friends due to my huffing and puffing), I decided to completely change the way I look at my body.  I started going to yoga regularly, began working out, and totally revamped the way I look at food.  It feels brave to admit this in this public forum.  Brave to admit that I wasn't happy with the way my body was feeling and looking.  Brave to admit that I'm trying to change it, because change is slow, and hard.  It hasn't been easy.  Finally, brave for me was standing up in front of almost two hundred people at my friends' wedding this past weekend, and speaking into a microphone, and officiating their marriage.  I always told myself that my social anxiety prevented me from doing things like that.   Being brave this week meant going back to the dreaded doctor for some more answers to lingering health questions. 

 

Being brave is in the little things.  Waking up with a smile, making the same lunches again for the millionth time, wiping another butt without complaining, taking the dog out when it's freezing.  It's the little things that have the power to bring us to our knees, especially as moms.  Being brave is admitting that you need help, that you want to change, that you wish some things would always be the same.  Being brave is taking time for yourself and taking an extra minute for one more deep breath. 

 

 I am committing to bravery for the rest of 2014, and into 2015.  What sorts of things are you being brave about?

a little piece of my heart

I've been attending Squam in one form or another since its inception in 2008.  Every year I attend with an open mind, try to learn more about myself, break open in a hundred ways, feel seen, and then come home.  And when I come home, I slip back into my life and leave that feeling back at Squam with a "until next year" attitude. When people at home ask me how my time was, I say "It was good," just like my kids do when they get home from school (which drives me crazy, and I always say "GOOD TELLS ME NOTHING!").  It's hard to translate to someone outside of Squam what the magic feels like there.  So it's just easier to leave it there and move on.

This year felt different.  I attended in a helping capacity, but also had a lot of time for fun.  I jumped in the lake alone on a chilly morning.  I took long, hot showers.  I ate way too much food that I didn't have to make myself, or clean up afterward.  I worked on some beautiful individuals, giving massages after my bedtime.  I tried to make eye contact.  I showed up.  I sat at a sewing machine and made things.  I let people help me when I needed help.  I took a lot of photos with my big-girl camera.  I pushed outside of my comfort zone and mingled with lots of people I didn't know.  It pushed the limits of my introverted ways, but it felt good.  Day after day, I felt open to whatever Squam had to offer me this year.  It felt transformative, and I felt the most relaxed I've felt in a long time.

And you know what?...I still do.  I feel different.  It's like I brought a little piece of it back with me, and it's there in my heart, shining through.  

The challenge lies in how to carry this blissed out feeling into my day to day grind.  I wish I could bottle up the goodness, the connection, and that in the moment feeling that I feel when I'm there.  Here are some of my favorite snaps from my time there.  

Moving forward with deep breaths, and the deepest kind of satisfaction that comes with circling with fierce, kick-ass women.

calling out for help, and offering it

It's no secret that with my husband's schedule, I'm left to do the majority of the kid-juggling solo.  Which isn't to say that I'm left to single parent----because it's anything but.  He works his ass off so I can primarily stay home with the kids and do the juggling that I love to do, and I am grateful for that every single day.  And I have plenty of friends who are single parents...it's a whole different ball game.  With that being said, when John's away, for large portions of the week and handful of overnights, I am here, holding down the fort. 

As the kids get older, it's getting trickier in some ways to manage everyone's schedules.  Today was the first day of school, and I now have three kids at three different schools.  Throw in a bunch of extracurricular activities and an upcoming long hockey season on a team in a town twenty minutes away, and a job in a city the next state over, I'm left spread thin sometimes.  The reason why I'm writing about this is because I was talking with a couple of different friends today about this.  And here's the deal...

We all need help.

And when we accept help, it opens up this awesome energy, causing us to offer help more.  An energy that transcends keeping score and just feels good.  And to be completely honest, I used to really suck at not only accepting help, but offering it too. I was happy (or unhappy) to just do it all myself, and just manage my little circle of people.  Living in this new (although it's been three years!) community has taught me so many beautiful lessons about friendship and the power of leaning on others.  Nothing makes me happier than looking in my rearview mirror and seeing six smiling faces (three kids who aren't mind, just hitching a ride).  I love that kids can come and hang out here while their mom's get shit done.  And I love that I have a bunch of people in my local tribe who I can call on when things get hectic and I need to get stuff of my own done.  I love that I can call my neighbor if I need a favor.  Sometimes she just takes my kids and paints their nails.  I love that she can call me if she needs me, too.  I feel so happy that I was able to get over myself, and burst that bubble of "I can do it all myself."  Because really, I can't.  And you can't either. 

This town has blessed me with an ever-expanding group of people who I call friends.  One of them is picking up my child now as I write these words.  Their numbers are saved in my daughter's cell phone, and she knows she can call them and they will come to her if I can't be there.  This is just a small piece of my self-care regimen.  Asking for help.  And it's an important lesson for the kids, too----it takes a village.  We all need people that we can call on to make our lives easier.  Even if that means sitting down across a table together over tea (or wine) and just listening.  It makes life so much easier. 

Ask for help.  Offer it.  It's a beautiful thing. 

The Liebster

I was nominated for The Liebster Award by my friend and mentor Claire, who blogs at Shifting My Perspective.  Her blog incredibly insightful, and I have the pleasure of circling with her (at least) once a month for over the past year.  I'm honored to accept the award, and to spread the love of blogging!  I am always looking for new and inspiring blogs to click on, and this is a great way to be exposed to new friends.  The award is simple---it's a fun and easy way to spread the love of blogs who have between 200-2000 followers.  At the end, I nominate some bloggers to participate, too!

Here are the rules for receiving this award:: 

1. Each person must post 11 things about themselves
2. Answer the questions from the person who nominated you and create 11 new questions for those you nominate
3. Nominate 5-11 of your favorite bloggers and link them in your post
4. Go to their page and tell them
5. Thank and link back to the person’s blog who nominated you

 

11 Things about myself::

 

1.  I vacillate between being hyper-social and really introverted.  I love being with people, hosting here at my house, going to events and meeting new people, but I also really love when everyone goes home and I put my comforter over my head and read a book alone for hours.

 

2.  Even though I'm a dirty hippie at heart, I really need to take a shower every.single.day.

 

3.  I have control issues with my hair. I rarely wear it down, and almost always wear a head-wrap.  Not many people see me with my hair down. Sometimes when I'm at the beach, I leave it down, even though it drives me crazy and makes me feel out of control.

 

4.  We try to live very simply.  But it can be challenging living in such a wealthy, keeping-up-with-The-Jonses town.  Trust me, I don't want to keep up...but the pressure is there.

 

5.  I spent part of the summer on the softball field, part of the summer at the hockey rink, and the other part on the beach.

 

6.  I learned a hard lesson about NOT wearing flip flops to my son's hockey lessons...a hard lesson that involved dropping a sharpened skate on my naked big toe.

 

7.  I have a minor obsession with essential oils.

 

8.  And nachos.

 

9.  And I like cheap wine.

 

10.  I recently got certified in Reiki and I'm looking for guinea pigs to practice on.

 

11.  I am about to get off the computer soon, go make a bunch of homemade roasted salsa, and then take my youngest to her practice bus ride for her first day of Kindergarten tomorrow. 

................

 

Now to answer Claire's questions...

 

1.  Who was your favorite teacher and why?

My favorite teacher was my first grade teacher, Mrs. Fitzgerald.  I was a highly sensitive kid with some major anxiety issues (and also with an odd habit of head banging), and she treated me with sensitivity and kindness, and never gave up on me.  And I won her Hello Kitty coloring contest.  So yeah, awesome.

 

2.  Who are the five famous people (dead or alive) that you would invite to a dinner party?

I would definitely have the chef Jamie Oliver, Georgia O'Keeffe, the singer Jeff Buckley, Bob Marley, and the author Barbara Kingsolver. 

 

 

3.  What's one quirky thing about you that most people don't know about?

I still suck my thumb and sleep with my doll from when I was little.

 

4.  What would your "perfect day" entail? 

My perfect day involves fresh juice, tea, a family gathering on the beach, fried seafood, cold wine, cool sheets, incense, candles, a walk through the woods.

 

5.  Where's the place that brings you the most peace and why?

I can't decide between the woods or the beach.  The best part of living in New England is that I have both of these places right at my fingertips!

 

6.  What are your three most valuable possessions and why?

My photo albums, because I have a terrible memory and these help me hold on to all the best times.  My kitchen island, the ultimate gathering spot.  My house, because it keeps my family safe and warm.

 

7.  How would your friends describe you?

My friends say that I smell like Whole Foods.  I think they would say that I am a good balance between relaxed and insane, kindness and real-talk.

 

8.  What's one New Year's Resolution that you never seem to fulfill?

Exercising every day.  Or once a week.  Or ever.

 

9.  What's your favorite movie and why?

I've always loved the movie Labyrinth.  I'm not a movie person AT ALL, and this is one of the few movies that I've seen multiple times.  I love David Bowie, I have an eternal crush on Jennifer Connolly, and, well, creepy puppets.

 

10.  What are three items from your "bucket list"?

I'd love to travel to Iceland (again...but actually leave the airport this time).  I want to do some volunteer work overseas.  And I'd love to see my grandchildren be born, grandmama-doula style.

 

11.  What was your childhood dream for yourself?

I wanted to be a crossing guard.  It was seriously my only life goal.

 

Now for my nominees!  I would like to nominate Stacy at 19 Butternut, Corinne at Corinne Noel Cunningham, Mindy at Mindy Tsonas, and Emily at The Kindergartener in Me, and Jen at Live for Today. 

 

My 11 questions for you are as follows::

1.  What is the best scary decision you ever made?

2.  What is something you are doing now in your life that you never thought you'd be doing?

3.  What is your absolute favorite dinner?

4.  What draws you to blogging?  How long have you been blogging for?

5.  What are three adjectives that describe you best?

6.  What symbol represents you?

7.  What thing grosses you out the most?

8.  What's your favorite way to unwind?

9.  What's your favorite restaurant?

10.  What's your biggest accomplishment?

11.  What is your spirit animal?

 

 

So 11 things about yourself, answers to the 11 questions, 11 of your own new questions, and then some more nominees!  Thank you in advance for playing along!

the birth of a new day

The beginning part of August for me was really difficult emotionally.  I am still trying to gain insight on what the heck happened, but I'm guessing that it was hormone-related, coupled with a bit of family upset, and let me tell you...it was not.pretty.  Not pretty at all!  I pride myself on being someone who's even-keeled---predictable, stable, happy.  And for about two weeks after we got back from vacation, I was an emotional wreck.  I cried.  I pouted.  I didn't do many of the things that made me happy.  Is there a such thing as post-vacation depression?  Because if there was, I certainly had it.  I was going through the motions of being a happy person, but I really didn't like myself one bit on the inside.  I kept calling my friend and leaving her voicemail updates that said "I STILL can't stand myself."  I was no fun to be around.  I was poop.

I was a piece of poop.

But the awesome news is...now I see the LIGHT!  I finally got to leave my friend a voicemail that said something like "I finally like myself again!"  The tides have turned, and now I feel like doing all the things I love again---circling with friends and family, having people over to eat, siting around debriefing, crafting, going on walks and adventures, and sticking my toes in the sand at the beach. And I'm still not quite sure what was going on.  I'm just happy to be on the other side of it, especially with the first signs of fall presenting themselves.  I've got my sweatshirt and knee-high boots ready to party!

Do you ever get stuck in a funk?  And what do you do to pull yourself out of it?

life, unplugged

This summer, I've been mostly unplugged and without a working computer.  When we went on a week-long vacation, I tried my best to put the phone away and disconnect from Facebook and Instagram, the two biggest time-sucks in my life.   I plugged in to my friends, and I plugged into my family.  I pulled up chair, I ripped open bags of chips, and uncorked bottles of wine.  I took deep breaths.  I did the best I could not to lose my patience, and to plug in to the reality around me.  Sometimes it was hard, and it was uncomfortable.  There were times I grabbed for my phone to fill up random minutes of downtime.  But at the end of it all, I realized that when I put the phone away, and when the laptop was gone at the shop getting fixed up...life was better.  Life was there to live.  My kids were happier.  There was less fighting.  I did less hiding behind the screen.  I caught up with my some of my closest friends, toe to toe on the beach.  I served up bowls of ice cream with the people that I normally catch up with online here and there.  I put on my bathing suit and jumped in the waves with friends who live over 300 miles away.  We talked.  We connected.  It was like the best sort of Christmas present, right smack middle of the summer.  It was just what I needed. 

The challenge now lies in carrying this over into the fall, into the rest of my life.  Finding a balance between staying connected online and staying connected in real life.  If anyone has any answers, please enlighten me!

beach blessings

I am so lucky to have friends that create beautiful, meaningful escapes that keep my well filled. Such a perfect way to celebrate the summer solstice...and recharge my spirit!  Summer...bring it on!