An unlikely dream

I have had the same recurring dream for the past few years.  In this dream, I am walking through these huge, weedy fields.  Usually I'm alone, sometimes I'm with people I love, but I'm always wandering through these vast expanses of land.  It sounds like it could be the setting of a very lonely place, but whenever I have this dream, whenever I see myself in these fields, I'm not at all lonely.  Rather I'm filled with a comfort that, for me, only comes with being outside in nature, and a calm that comes only from solitude.  I wake up yearning to find this type of life for myself.

 

I love these types of places, the open air and the open land.  There is something very soothing about the idea that I could walk for hours and not see another person.  Lately, I have been so drawn to the idea of rural living, of the hard work and the satisfaction that would come from this type of lifestyle. I want to greet the day by baking bread and hang my laundry out to dry. When I say this out loud, even to myself, I recognize that I'm probably only so enamored by this lifestyle because it's so different from how I live now, but still...the desire is very real and very deep.  Perhaps this type of yearning is from my Idaho roots, or perhaps it's just my mind's pushback to a busy, sometimes hectic, always people-filled lifestyle.  I know that the dream is one way my subconscious shows me that I need to find more time for me and more s-p-a-c-e.  Whatever it is about, it doesn't seem to be going anywhere.

 

Maybe it's time to explore this type of life a little bit more, to try to understand what it is that is pulling me towards it.  Maybe I need more air and more space and more wandering.  Maybe I need to be surrounded by those things that comfort me: nature, land, water, and my family.  Maybe it's time to go home for the weekend and sink into it, to get my fill of the county, see if that will last me for a while while I figure it out.  Who knows what the future holds. Unlikely dreams come true, too.

 

Lunch Wars - - Book Review

I hadn't really given a lot of thought to school lunches in many years, probably since I last ate one (so...17 ish years ago), but with a preschooler who will be embarking on her own school career next year, it's a topic of interest for me.  Additionally, I'm really working on improving our diets, and have been spending a lot of time and energy searching out healthy options that Riley will actually put in her mouth and swallow.  I truly believe that living a healthy lifestyle is a continual process of improvement and I have to consider that Riley will be eating her lunch at school 5 days a week, 35 weeks a year.  It will soon become a big deal around here.

Reading "Lunch Wars" by Amy Kafka made me realize that there is a lot more out there about school lunches that I need to learn.  It's an environment that I am not savvy about at all, but one that is important to both our kids physical health and academic success.  In her book, Kafka speaks to the role that politics plays in the school lunch system, the use of food rewards in the classroom, and the difficulties that the schools have in providing any lunches, much less lunches with high nutritional value.  She provides accessible advice on how to evaluate the school lunch program, and what to do with the information you find. I appreciate how she provides examples, case studies and an honest approach to this difficult to change, but really important issue.

As I look towards entering Riley into the school system in a year, I will definitely be factoring in the school lunch variable in the choices i make for her education.  I highly recommend this book for an easy to understand primer on this unique culture.


Although these opinions are my own, this a paid book review for BlogHer book club. 

Picture this

Picture five glorious days surrounded by beautiful scenery and creative energy.

Picture nights by the fire, letting laughter and friendship chase away the cold.

Picture learning a new skill and making new friends in the process.

Picture creeping vines giving way to riotous blooms of color.

Picture sunrise on the dock, the water calm and soothing after a night of storms.

Picture tiny gifts found at your feet.

Picture being with those that understand the whole of you, who know you in a way most can't.

Picture feeling the sun on your face, it's rays warming your body and healing your heart.

Picture watching the tiny movements of nature, and knowing there is something bigger than yourself at work. 

Picture a solitary afternoon on the dock, sorting through thoughts and emotions and finally finding the peace that comes when you know what steps to take next.

Picture a walk through the trees, letting yourself get lost and reminding yourself that you found yourself here before.  And that when you are at home in your soul, you are never really lost, anyway.

I have glimpsed my future...and it ain't pretty.

Since my mom is at my house this evening, and since Riley fell asleep early, I decided to go browse the magazine section of B&N for a nice bit of 'me' time.  I picked out my selections, found a chair, and settled in.  I was just starting to learn why Jen hates Angelina this week, when I was treated to a rather uncomfortable show:

A man and a woman are on a first-ish type of date.  How can I tell, you ask?  He was wearing khakis and a button up shirt (both were newly pressed, not something he'd worn all day) and she was also wearing khakis and a lacy, but still appropriately modest, top. And also brown boots with chunky heels.   It's Thursday night, people!  Anyone NOT on a first-ish date is wearing jeans and t-shirts and flip flops. Everyone knows this!  This is science, people.  There are studies to back this up.

Her bangs were high, her eyes were lined. His hair was mussed up in that "i'm-balding-but-I-can't-bring-myself-to-accept-it" way  **somewhat relevant tangent - if you are a man and you are going bald -OWN IT.  None of this "grow it out and mess it up" nonsense.  Cut it short-short-short or Bic it.  There is nothing sexier than a guy who is comfortable with this part of growing older. Be a man. Or at least, don't be a man with a comb-over.

Anyhoodles...they are on a first-ish date and they are all touchy but no touchy with each other.  Know what I mean?  The way she puts her hand on his wrist and takes it away quickly.  The way his hand goes to her waist, but then pulls back almost before he's touched her.  The way she looks up at him and then away coyly.  Awkward, people....AWKWARD!

And the conversation...oh, dear heavens....THE CONVERSATION!

"I love the ocean. I'd love to live by the ocean."

"Oh, yes.  Me too.  I love the ocean, too."

"There is nothing like the ocean, is there?"

"No.  I just love the ocean."

News flash, people!  EVERYONE LOVES THE OCEAN! (helpful tip: Listen to some NPR to prepare for your next date. )

It went on like this for a while, and finally I couldn't take it any longer.  I felt so embarassed for them, and I just had to leave. 

And then, on my drive home, it HIT me, like a wave of the ocean (I just love the ocean, do you love the ocean?)

THIS IS MY FUTURE!

In about 12-15 years, I will be THAT LADY with her awkward date, standing at Barnes and Nobles talking about the ocean and wearing khakis on a thursday night.  That's going to be me!  I will be wearing boots when it's clearly a flip flop night.  I will have big hair and eyeliner at a time when all hair should be in a ponytail and all traces of makeup should have worn away hours ago.  I will be uttering inane things and trying to not touch the person I am with.

I cannot imagine having time to date anyone again for at least the next 10 years, and by then, all my social skills will have disappeared and I WILL BE THAT FIRST-ISH DATE LADY!

Oh, the humanity!


I know everyone is all squamy-squamy this week, but I having processed my photos yet and I now have a serious emotional issue to cope with.

I have seen my future, and it ain't pretty.

I think I need a drink.

A little bit of Riley

First "self-administered" haircut

The night before Riley's 4th birthday, she took the scissors to her hair and cut a couple of large chunks out of the left side.  A friend was visiting at the time, and since it didn't look too bad, I didn't worry too much about it until I was getting her ready for bed.  Then I found more locks of hair on the bathroom hair and realized it was a bit worse than I thought.  Frustrated, I asked her what made her decide to cut her own hair.

Her reply:  "Because I'm only a Three Year Old for today.  I'll be Four tomorrow."


Confused, I asked what that fact had to do with it.

Her reply (looking at me as if I was the most clueless parent alive):  "Because a Four Year Old would know better."

Oh.  Kay.

 

Riley and her first 'boyfriend' Jeremy

Riley and I were at our favorite thrift store, just wandering around when she found a box of styrofoam heads.  She decided that they would make the perfect boyfriend, and so she named this one "Jeremy".  She played with "him" until it was time to leave, making him coffee and also arms.

It was truly love at first site.

Imagine her dismay when she found out I was not, in fact, going to bring "Jeremy" home with us.  She cried.  She lamented. But alas, her first love was made to stay in the store.

On our way to the car, she wailed mournfully "Jeremy, I"ll never forget you."

In an attempt to console her about her lost love, I explained that Jeremy needed to stay and work at the store.

She stopped in her tracks, threw me the saddest look ever, and wailed even louder "But he doesn't even have legs!"

I guess that was the wrong thing to say.

Checking out

For a few days each fall, I give myself the chance to get away, to rest and to let my creative side play with abandon. This is that week and I am currently In a rustic cabin on the shores of Squam Lake in New Hampshire. The loons are calling, the water is beckoning and I am checking out of this space. I will be back soon with stories and photos. See you on the flip.

Gratitude list

I feel as if I would be completely remiss if I didn't end the weekend with a gratitude list.  I have so much to be thankful for and so much good in my life. 

one of my favorite photos from the weekend. I love the random dog on Lexi's head.

 Today, I am grateful for:

- a sister who is always there when I need her
-a family who supports me in all things
-friends who show up, sit down next to me, and help me through the hard parts
-big steps
-silly moments with my nieces
-quiet contemplation
-perfect September afternoons
-meeting my new nephew (finally!)
-feeling like I am exactly where i need to be
-hearing a 7 year old read one of my favorite books out loud and anticipating sharing my love of reading with her throughout the years
-getting it right the first time
-springtime arrivals
-ten minute bedtimes
-anticipation of the week to come

exploring her world

meeting Archer!

Looking at 35

Taken on my 35th birthday. thanks, AmyG

I tend to get reflective this time of year.  Perhaps it's because I associate fall with the new school year and new beginnings, or maybe it's because my birthday falls in September.  Whatever it is, I've always been this way.

Except this year.

Whenever my birthday approaches, I usually make these elaborate lists of things I want to do in the next year - goals I want to accomplish, places I want to see, things I want to do.  I get really detailed and technical, outlining plans and defining milestones.

Except this year.

I started to really analyze why I was feeling this way - it's just so weird for me.  But even that took me way more inside my head than I wanted to be.

And so I decided to just go with it.

I'm truly happier than I have ever been.  Yes, there are struggles.  Yes, there are bad days and hard times.  Yes, I get frustrated and lonely and tired.  But underneath all of that, at the very center of myself, I feel a deep and abiding sense of goodness, of peace and of gratitude.  I feel more comfortable in my skin than I have ever been, and I feel more alive and whole than I have ever felt.

I'm finding that it's really a beautiful way to live.

So I have decided to just keep doing what I'm doing...living the life that makes me happy and gives me so many moments of joy and light.  To keep focusing on putting first things first and living a healthy and simple life.

It's working for me. 

Why mess with a good thing, right?

both of us on our birthday - have I mentioned that I love this girl?

A Party Fit For A Princess

Riley requested a Princess Party for her Fourth birthday.  I pushed for a swimming party, or a skating party, but she wouldn't hear of it.  And so her Princess party was planned. She dressed for the occasion in her Cinderella outfit, with opera length gloves, of course.  

The Event:

All birthday decorations were made by yours truly.  I really tried to make sure all the decorations were reusable and handmade, rather than buy a bunch of plastic junk.  I had so much fun! The banner is now hanging in Riley's room and the tissues pom poms went home with my nieces.  

Sour cream vanilla cupcakes with buttercream frosting. soooo yummy.

The Activities: 

The princesses decorated their own magic wands.

And made their own necklaces from the royal jewels.

"Balloon on the ankle" game - this was a hit and hilarious to watch amidst all the princess dresses and tiaras.  Who knew princesses can get so competitive?!

The Princesses: 

All of the super silly princesses.

 

 

 

The Fairy Godmother paid a special visit to our princesses, and granted each a special wish.

 

All in all:

It was a lot of fun, and also a lot of work.  I'm happy with the outcome and I'm really happy that it's over.  I'm thinking an 'every-other-year' rule for her birthday parties and going on a special birthday vacation on the off years.  After all, it's my birthday too!

Thanks to Jenica for her help with the photos.  Most of these are hers, some are mine.  One lesson I learned about throwing birthday parties - make sure you invite someone who can man the camera.  :)

Four Years Old

Birthday portrait by Alisha Stamper 

There are still times that the reality leaves me breathless.  This beautiful girl, the little one with my hands and her father’s laugh –my body grew hers.  She is my child.  Mine.  As much as she is her own person, she is mine.

My world has revolved around hers for the past four years.  She is my sun, the center of my Universe, the light that leads the way. 

She is my angel, the one that has helped me through some of the darkest nights, the one who looks into my eyes and reflects back to me all that I can be.

I can have no doubt that there is a God when I look at her, when I look back at how our journey has unfolded.  I can have no doubt in a higher divinity, in my higher purpose, because I know that she has so much to give this world, and that I am the one chosen to guide her into the person she will become.

There has not been one day in 1460 that I haven’t been taken aback by the responsibility that I have been given.  I am still humbled, still awed, that I was chosen to be her mother.   Sometimes, I can’t imagine that I am strong enough, that I am capable enough to take this headstrong little one by the hand and guide her toward a full and happy life.  Often, I feel inadequate.  Often, I feel afraid.

But ultimately, it comes back to this one simple truth:  being her mother is the greatest experience I have ever been given.  It has forced me to lean into the uncomfortable in ways I didn’t know were possible, to push past barriers I thought were insurmountable.  It has made me both stronger and softer; more compassionate, more courageous.  In her four years on earth, she has taught me more about myself than I ever hoped to know and has given me more love and more joy than I will ever deserve.  She has helped me to embrace life fully and to live and love with a full, wide and deep heart.   

She is the best gift I’ve ever been given. 

Happy Birthday, beautiful girl.   I love you more than words can express, and more than you will ever know.