pollyanna

Lately I'm glad. Glad, glad, glad. I'm so glad about the sunshine. I could lie in a lounge chair soaking it up all day long. It's just so bright and wonderful. I'm glad about the torrential rainstorms we have once or twice a week. They are drenching and loud and filled with flashes of lightning. Perfect, perfect storms. My flowers are so pleased. These long-legged, tow-headed boys that run through the kitchen at top speed whilst yelling at the tops of their lungs all day long have made me so very glad lately. They are clever and funny and sweet and healthy and just delightful. I am so glad to have found teachers and schools that 'get' them, that help them find their greatness. I am so glad that I can bend in unusual ways and lift heavy things and run really far and feel great when I'm finished, what a lucky, lucky thing. I am so glad to live with and build a life with this perfect man for me. We laugh every day. Lots. I am glad to be surrounded by lovely people. There is this neverending stream of delightful people in my life. People who make me laugh, who have my back, who hold my hand, who support my heart.

Glad, glad, glad.

the bitter with the sweet

When I was a little girl I was taught that in the afterlife we will all have perfect memories of every moment of our time here. I think it was supposed to scare us straight. "Won't it be awful to remember each and every sin, every mistake with crystal clarity?" they would ask and, with my eyes wide, I would nod, mutely terrified. But this idea has been returning to me over and over lately. How scary, how sad will our mistakes be when we can see them with perspective, see where they led us, see the lessons we learned? And really, so many of the moments are breathtaking, kisses, hands geld, sly glances, children laughing, missing teeth, missing consonants, the smell of fancy, overpriced baby shampoo in golden hair, forts in the kitchen, secret brother plans, tears of all kinds, and so much more. My days are so full of things that I would give anything to hold onto forever, I will gladly remember the bitter, if only I can have the sweet.

generational- thankful

This is my Grandma Verna. Have her tell you her life story one of these days. It's amazing. She has been my confidant and my rock for many a year. When I have babies, she comes to take care of me. When my heart aches she always knows just what to do. She always has faith in me. And she thinks my children are wonderful.

truth in marketing

Men and women are different. We all know this. I recognize that we have different needs in many arenas. This weekend I learned of one I had previously discounted. You all know how I feel about nylons (small shudder) and what with the weather being in a state of indian summer here in Kansas I am still sporting bare legs to all places requiring or even just enjoying the privilage of a skirt and/or dress. Thus, there must be shaving. I have a tiny bit of a hippy vibe but I am distinctly anti-leg hair and when I have gobs of money coming out of my ears will pay some nice person with lasers to kill it all forever. Sans gobs of money I pull out my fancy, girly, pleasantly-scented women's razer. Sunday, I realized with chagrin that my razer had been discarded in preparation for the purchase of a new one. Unfortunately said purchase had not yet taken place. Not one to be daunted, I pulled a brand new razer out of Ty's enormous Sam's Club stash under the sink. You see, secretly I knew that there was no difference between his and mine and that I was paying all that extra money for perfume and a purple handle. Nope, nope, nope. Not the same. Not the same at all. I emerged from the shower feeling raw and bleeding down my legs in several places, cut to ribbons. Poor men take these butcherous things to their faces! Perhaps they are simply more skillful than I, but, wow. Huge difference. On the way home from the gym this morning I stopped at the drugstore for an emergency razer restock. My legs are smooth and silky, as promised on the bright pink, flowered package with not a drop of blood in sight. All is right with the world.

o.k., so not much faster

So I assume you all remember the last time I did a 20-mile training run. I was not positive I would ever walk again. And I didn't walk real well for several days. I did another one today. Don't get me wrong. It was hard and the thought of tacking another six miles on the end of that distance is pretty daunting but it wasn't even close to as hard as last time. It was significantly better than the 18-mile run I did last week. Maybe I'm getting stronger or tougher or just better at tuning out the painful stuff. Maybe I really am a distance runner and not a big faker.

it's already written on the calendar and thus, set in stone

Today I took the boys to the dentist. Both of them. Tommy is, and always has been, a super star dental patient. He grins through the entire process. He is mistakenly convinced that he, at some point, "before 1972" he had a cavity. Neither I nor the dentist can convince him otherwise. Johnny was a first-timer. His visits (we tried two different times today) consisted of him frantically and emphatically responding to every request and query directed at him with a definite, "No way!" It's surprising how many people are completely charmed by this outright defiance when it comes from my little blue-eyed boy. They got a quick glance in his mouth and that was all. They will try again in six months. This is where it got weird. When I made the appointments we were booking out in October and I had to consider the fact that Tommy will be in real school all day long and schedule accordingly. I realize that it's possibly a little early to be freaking out about the changes I see coming but you all know how I feel about thinking ahead.

pretty boys

More than once, I have had women stop me on the street to tell me that my children should be models. Yes, they are tow-headed and blue-eyed but, quite frankly, I think this has more to due with the fact that they grin and flirt with every single person who deigns to glance at them than anything else. Don't get me wrong, I think that they are preposterously cute, but we all feel that way about our offspring. It's the sly grins, the sideways tilt of the head, the blowing of kisses that really win people over, not the genetics.

Last May I got a fancy new camera for my birthday. The updated version of the one I have been pining for since I worked at a camera store my freshman year of college. You may have noticed the improved quality of my photos. I take a lot of pictures. Unfortunately most of those pictures are of aprons and capes and bibs and other things for my little etsy shop. Not nearly so many of the most photographable subjects in my house. I get busy and it seems like a lot of trouble to get the camera off the shelf for every little thing. Except that six months from now they will be doing different little things and I will have missed the window to catch that one. Without digital evidence there is a really good chance that I will forget many of the things all together. Quel dommage!

So- I have moved the camera to a lower shelf and I plan to waste a little more time messing around with it. They can be models for me. Models of what boyhood looked like during the 2010s in our house. I have no intention of becoming a professional like several of you are. But. I will become better at taking pictures of these two monkeys than anyone else could be. I will be the Annie Leibowitz (didn't even have to look that up!) of my little demesne. That way I won't forget because it's all a little too wonderful to forget.

#10- Take more pictures of my little family and the life we are living.

(he wouldn't put the sandwich down-I tried)

just keep swimming

I keep having all these great ideas for posts when I am not at the computer. I, of course, do not write them down and thus, when I return to said computer can think of nothing to write. Sigh. There are things I want to write about but am not allowed to, things that I could write about but that would be so boring to read that my few readers would delete this link in disgust or I could complain about some interesting customer service I've had lately or the stupid January weather but I am not offended enough by wither to bother. That means you are stuck with the following ramblings. I hope they don't drive you away.

I'm feeling a little obsessed lately with the idea of starting over. I don't think I ever recognized how often we do it, both in big ways and small. New years, new challenges, new goals, new seasons, new babies, new lessons, new hardships, new joys. This idea of beginning again must matter. It must be essential to our humanity and to our continued progression, right? Because this time we will get it right, we will do it better, closer to the goal. Even it's just a little closer. So here's my epiphany;

It's never too late.

Never, as long as we are breathing.

I am overwhelmed by the hopefulness of this thought.

And so very grateful.

#8-(sort of unrelated) Take self portraits to find peace with my body, enjoy my youth and health while I have it and to know myself better.
#9 Carry around a notebook to jot down ideas for writing and anything else that I don't want to forget.

sheepish

Dear Cassi (my super beautiful, sophisticated and completely put-together younger sister),

I made you a really great gift. What I mean to say is that I am still making you a really great gift. So........ I haven't shipped it yet. That means that, unless I am willing to buy the box containing the gifts for you and your delicious daughter and airplane ticket (so sorry, but I am not), it's not going to make it by Christmas. I did so well this year, so well. Everything else went out weeks ago. The Christmas cards went out a little later in the month than I would prefer but I send out a lot and they all went out eventually. It will be finished today. Promise. It will ship out tomorrow. I am really just trying to make the holiday last a little longer at your house. That was my plan all along.

Love, Me

            (This is me tooting my own horn by showing a photo of my sister and my niece while wearing aprons I made them. Adorable, no?)

for health and strength- thankful

My white blood cell count has been low for a while. They are doing lots of blood tests to find out why. For a while I was worried but I'm not anymore. See, the Doc already confirmed that I do not have leukemia or any of the other terrible things I found on the very helpful Mayo clinic website. I feel a little icky lately but that's it.What ever is causing these strange test results is minor. I am healthy.

I run lots of miles every week with no ill affects, my legs are strong and flexible, my lungs able to bear the strain, craving the challenge. My eyes see near and far with no aid at all. I hear clearly and distinctly. My skin is clear and unmarred by anything more serious than a faint wrinkle or freckle. I have had the amazing experience of both carrying and bearing two children with no incident. Every part of my body works perfectly and I usually take it for granted. I get all out of joint when I get a sinus infection or my glands are a little swollen. What a miracle that all these complex systems should work so well, that there should be no mistakes, no missing parts, no deficiencies. No terrible accident or illness has robbed me of any of these things. How did I get so lucky, so blessed? I am even more humbled when I see that same perfection in my little ones, terrified at the same time. I don't deserve it any more than anyone else does. Anymore than anyone deserves infertility, diseases, both mild and unimaginably awful, terrible accidents or small mistakes in a genetic code that change everything. Perhaps if I don't appreciate it, don't really make the most of it, it will taken away. Maybe someday something will happen that will change everything no matter what I do today. 

I don't want to waste it, don't want to miss out on it while I have the chance to really experience it all, just in case.

the road not taken- thankful

I am an actor. Maybe you don't this about me because I have been on hiatus lately. I'm working on that because I really miss it. I am actually pretty good. When Ty was in law school we spent a summer outside of L.A. for his internship. I was thrilled to be admitted into the relatively prestigious Playhouse West, a pretty famous acting school  (Jim Carrey trained there). I loved it. If you are serious about acting, L.A. is one of a few places that you can really make a living at it. At the end of the summer I met with Robert Carnegie. I told him if we got a job offer out of the internship then we would likely be back. He didn't think so. He told me that I was very talented but that L.A. was not a nice place to live or to eventually raise a family. He told me that he thought that, in the end, I would put those things first. He was right. When the offer came, I just couldn't picture us living there. I wanted more for myself and my future children. Instead we went to Wisconsin. I have to admit that since we made that choice my opportunities to act have been few and far between. An independent movie here, a commercial there and I admit I feel the lack but, I have loved the life we have built for our family so far in the places we have lived. Loved being home with them, loved living in places with blue skies and Christmas snow, savoring the short years before they are too big. I don't have any illusions about having made it, I would never have been a movie star, but I could have been a successful, working actor had we stayed there but we would have spent a lot more time on the freeway and a lot less time in the backyard. This upcoming year I will start auditioning again and doing little projects here and there and doing them really well. In the meantime I will be watching over the idyllic childhood I always dreamed about for my children with stars in my eyes.

because i got my feelings hurt- thankful

We are not alike, you and I, but I have always thought that we were kindred spirits. I love you and the influence you are in my life. When I asked you about it and you were condescending, it hurt my feelings. Because of that I kept thinking about it. This time I'm right and I think you were defensive because you know better, that's how I get when I know better, too. It was just a little thing but it sends several really big messages, lessons you don't mean to teach. We both know that you are better at this whole gig than I am but when you said I really didn't understand how it was yet, you were wrong. It 's just that my view was from the other side of the table. When I said I would never, I meant it. I will never. That's why I am thankful, because I hadn't really thought about the slippery slope. I hadn't ever considered the specifics from this side of the table. Hadn't thought about the big messages I am sending with the little things I do. How much more aware I must be from today on. Of all the little things. And the big lessons. I'm not writing to be passive aggressive, even though, sometimes, I am. I just don't want to forget this big lesson taught by a little thing.

chagrined

You know those people who come screaming into the parking lot, pull into a spot totally crooked, jump out and go running into the store. Do you secretly give them dirty looks? I do. What, are they more important than the rest of us? They can't take the time to park straight so the cars next to them can get in and out more easily? Inconsiderate, I say.

Except, that apparently, I am one of them. I went somewhere a few days ago with a woman from church (she likes to do service with me because she thinks I'm funny) and she pointed out my horrendous parking job as we exited the car. I was not just a little skeewampus, but spilling over into the other space. Oops. Obviously, this was a one-off, a fluke. Except, I did it again this morning at the gym and yesterday at the grocery store. What happened? I used to be able to park beautifully with nary a glance to either side. I wonder how long I have been the worst parking job in the lot? Maybe I'll drive over to the church parking lot on the weekend and practice because I simply can't give anyone secret dirty looks for something that I have perhaps not mastered either. Maybe not, because frankly, after this I won't be able to give dirty looks. I will just assume that the poor driver is chauffeuring a car of little boys and is thus distracted or the she is used to doing so and is so cowed by the silence when she is finally alone that she can't concentrate. Besides we have million things planned this weekend and there's no way to squeeze in any more extras. I'll just park far away like the people with fancy cars (and my Dad) that are afraid they will get dinged and no one will even notice. Problem solved.