A Gift

I'm pretty aware of the effect my mind's wanderings has on my overall feeling of wellness.  Letting my mind settle into all the ways I am pissed at my circumstance results in mindless eating, grumpier responses to my children, blah-ness.  The opposite tends to be true as well: tending to the awesomeness begets more awesomeness in all the ways.

I received a gift today.  I am certain I receive them every day, and this one was obvious.  This is my journey to reprogram my mind to pay attention to the gifts and therefore create a shift in my life toward the possibilities.  For the purposes of this journey I am choosing to assert that the gifts are not happenstance.  It's more fun and meaningful that way.

Today my girls and I arrived at the river a full ten minutes early.  This is significant because by all calculations, based on commitments from earlier in the day plus the added time it takes to accomplish most anything when you add children to the mix, we should have been late.  I actually had a conversation with myself a few hours prior just to acknowledge that today we weren't going to be on time and that, this time, that could be ok.  

So there we were, before all of our friends arrived, chairs set up, kayak in the water, sunscreen applied, be-hatted: ready.  It was quiet.  The sand was hot from being undisturbed all morning, soaking up the heat.  The three of us had ventured into the first few inches of sublimely cool water, and I was taking it all in.  When I looked downstream I saw I hawk meandering through the sky toward us.  Not even really in the sky, I'd say, but following along the canyon and river 100 feet or so above the water.  I pointed the raptor out to the girls, and took an other moment to observe it myself.  It wasn't a turkey vulture for sure, definitely a prey bird.  But something wasn't familiar about it.  By the time it was nearly overhead I lost it, "OMIGOODESS!!! A BALD EAGLE!!! GIRLS!! GIRLS!! LOOK!!!"  A freaking bald eagle!!!  I knew they existed in the canyon but I'd never seen one, and this dude was right overhead.  It was surreal.  I implored my children: this was something that most people never get to see, like ever.  Rosanna replied, "And WE got to see it!"

Today I am thankful for that gift. For the moments aligning to put us where we were, with our eyes looking, our little family together and peaceful all of us ready to receive it. 

Disneyland and some sweat

Oh, Disneyland.

I hadn't been in a LONG time.  Twenty years.  Ugh.  I'm old enough to say that I did something "twenty years ago".  Insert whimper here.

We only had one day and, after taking in advice from those who came before, I had decided that we would take it easy...no matter how much I wanted to see, do, experience.  Turns out this was a great idea.  The whole thing was completely overwhelming for Rosie's two year old mind.  I was verging on overwhelmed myself.  For example, upon entering the park and having Mickey march by us leading a band, I nearly broke down in tears.  I felt pretty silly and did my best to keep some composure.  This happened at least two more times while we were there.  Another time was the start of the parade: the drummers and the joy and the fact that we were in freaking Disneyland.  Well, I'm pregnant too.  I wanted so desperately for Rosanna to feel it.  To be overjoyed and in awe.  Nope.

That there is a look of concern.  It showed up many times during our Disney day.  

"You wanna go meet Mickey?!".  Concern.

"Time to get in the ship to ride Peter Pan!"  Concern.

Headed into the Small World tunnel.  Concern.

Small World was a hit, by the way.  Peter Pan....not so much.  Winnie the Pooh?  Winner!  Dumbo?  Winner!  So much to see, do, eat.  We probably saw a third of the park.  Maybe.  I was super impressed with the staff.  They were unabashedly committed to our experience.  Every one of them referred to Rosanna as "Princess".  Nice touch.  Every one of them kept up the joy for the entire day.  It was pretty unreal.  

I'd love to recount every glorious step we took and every moment where I felt like a giddy little kid, but that would only be interesting to me....let's round it up by saying we stayed until 11:30pm then crashed in a fulfilled heap for many many hours.

The whole purpose of our trip was to run a half marathon.  The Disneyland Half Marathon, specifically.  Half marathons are 13.1 miles.  A challenging distance, to be sure, but not as crazy as a full marathon.  

So my mom and I woke up in the four o'clock hour to make it to Downtown Disney for a 5:45am start time. Ugh.  So dark.  SO MANY people.  17,000.  Can you believe it?  Insanity.  The first few miles of the race went through California Adventure and then Disneyland.  There were characters, ready to embrace our sweaty bodies for a photo op.  It was massively cool.  Captain Hook, Princesses, Army Men (Toy Story), Darth Vader, so many!  

We took a few photos, but some of the lines for a photo op were a bit too long.  The rest of the run was through ugly Anaheim, it's only redeeming moment was running through Angels Stadium.  

Being a pregnant lady, I hadn't trained in awhile.  Not eating+puking+zero energy=no training.  I lowered my expectations, told myself I wasn't going to push it.  I'd do what I could, I wasn't running for time.  It turns out I'm pretty rad.  I finished!  Honestly, without my Mom it wouldn't have happened.  I ran with her the whole time, we stopped only for the bathroom, character photos and water stations.  How completely awesome are we?  Had I been solo, I'm certain my negative mind-chatter would've won out and I'd have caught a ride to finish line.  

Crossing a finish line after an intense run is one of the cooler things I've done.  It's so rewarding to have completed an awesome feat, to know you beat out all the aches and negative thoughts and just made it happen.  

I highly recommend it!

The List

I've been seeing these awesome lists in the blogging world.  Sort of like a bucket list, I see them as "get off your butt and do something" lists.  They make a person get up and get themselves out of their comfort zone, and that can only be a useful thing.  

Inspired, I stole from a bunch of lists and made my own collection.  It's a mish-mash of being in service and fulfilling some festering crafty-type needs.  I'm pretty proud of it.  For a few of the items I'm going to be reaching out and requesting your support, but I'll let you in on that later.  

So I think I'll give myself two months to obliterate this bad boy (possibly with the exception of the art-show and book).  I'll blog about each one as it gets crossed off "The List".  GAME ON!

1. Publish a magazine
2. Sell my art at a street fair-style event
3. Begin my volunteer journey (The Animal Place and Wild Things)
4. Sew my daughter a dress 
5. Throw a themed party
6. Run a half marathon in 3 hours or less (Disneyland, in September!)
7. Leave a note for a stranger
8. Submit a piece of writing for publication
9. Bake a tray of goodies for the local fire department
10. Make cards for a local nursing home
11. Purge T.V. for a week
12. Write thank-you notes to people who serve me: postman, garbage guy, etc.
13. Give all our old shoes to "Reuse-a-Shoe"
14. Visit the NICU with treats for the doctors and tired/anxious parents
15. Write/collect 100 letters for military service people and send them off: http://www.amillionthanks.org/
16. Smile at everyone all day- write about it
17. Make a no-sew fleece blanket
18. Leave presents anonymously on 10 doorsteps (flowers, notes, artwork, etc.)
19. Put up 10 "Take What You Need" signs
20. Write a toddler friendly vegan kids book (there seem to only be older-kid books with too much sadness in them)

And here's a little sweetness to round it out:

Run ragged!

My baby is napping.  As she should be, we ran her ragged this morning.

It started with visiting a house.  A two bedroom house (!).  Could this be the one we have been waiting for?  Nope.  The landlady was absurdly difficult to be in a conversation with (she wanted to share about all her ailments, trials, etc....I just wanted to make an appointment), the house smelled like a smoker, the street parking was lacking and the landlady's dog (she lives next door to this house) barked the entire time.  That's a big, fat thumbs down.  Too bad, really.  The house itself was, in my opinion, perfect for us.

Next, my mom and I took a lovely hike.  Ro cruised in the stroller until we went off road, then that lil' sucker held pace nearly the entire time (we walked for a good two hours!).  We wandered down paths whose end we weren't sure of, and decided to come back before we got too far.  What an adventure we had!  Butterflies were everywhere, my mom even caught one to give to Ro, but she liked them better on the flowers.  The shallow, flowing run-off was speckled and wriggling with wee little tadpoles- so cool!  We caught some and put them in Ro's hands, but she liked them better in the water.  We threw rocks in a miniature waterfall that was pooling up all gorgeous-like, making us wonder if it was worth scaling down the rocks to get our feet wet.  And while we were on the home stretch, with Ro tightrope-walking the narrow edge of the canal, I quickly pulled her up to me as the tip of her sneaker met the nose of a baby rattlesnake who was sunning in the path.  A few minutes later, I snagged her to me again.  Two baby snakes, how exciting!  'Tis the season?  Oh, and add "first poopy diaper changed in the wild" to the baby book.  BOOM.

So now she is napping.  I always feel like a "good mom" (whatever that means) when I sufficiently wear my kid out so that the nap is well deserved.  Otherwise, I feel like I am enforcing a rest on a rested child.

Now you know.

It's over, S.F.

I used to have a somewhat romantic relationship with San Francisco.  I can remember arriving to the city, off the Bay Bridge and into the darkened streets.  The buildings loomed and crowded out the sun and there was a melee of cars, people and muni-wires crisscrossing the streets.  It was chaotic for my mellow foothills-trained brain to make sense of.  It was chaotic and magical.  So very different from our hometown, it was like entering another world.  I felt like I didn't know how to communicate with these people.  They were abrasive, impassioned and abrupt.  Some walked around with faces toward their feet, moving desperately.  Others meandered, imploring for interaction, speaking to whomever.

In Berkeley today, outside of Nobolom Bakery

The entire experience would leave me shaken and strangely yearning for more- it was exciting!

Fast forward to today.  Everything is the same save for the "yearning for more" part.  Oh, and now I am charged with driving the streets myself.  Erg.

Raining today in S.F.

I am not longer in love with San Francisco.  The past three times have left me stressed and disappointed.  Restaurants that get great yelp reviews turn out to be lacking in every way: mediocre food, stuffed into a small space down a grungy street with grungy people hanging around outside.  The metered parking keeps me in a panic about the number of minutes that have passed and the location of my next quarter fix.  We arrived a few minutes late to our car and were the lucky recipients of not only a parking ticket, but a $100+ ticket for no front license plate.  I can hardly complain, we were guilty of both charges.  It did add a special sprinkling of irritation of which there was already plenty.  Oh, and let's not forget the time I stepped in bum poo.

E got a kick out of this

Add to this the spastic drivers (left turn is yield on green, where do you want me to go?!?), the rotten smell every few blocks, and the 10 minute drive it takes to get 2 miles and we're looking at a break up.  I've outgrown you S.F.  I see you through my 30 year old, married, Mommy eyes and I'm not buying.

Upside?  We bought the BMW we came to see.  Cool, huh?

Ways to love your kid

Take them outside

Show them around

Create with them

Let them be free to create

Sing songs in the bath

This is how we loved our kid today.  It was amazing.

"Ro"ckstar

I love this kid.  She's incredible and stupendous.  She blows me away.

The other day we went to the Flower Farm to get a bite and check out the offerings.  We dined on PB&J and threw bocce balls down the lonely bocce court.  It was the most fun.

We were told there were chickens.  So of course, we went to find them.  There was much excitement over the possibility of chickens.  

We found them, they were the especially fluffy and cooky looking variety and were not interested in being pet by a spunky 1 year old.  She really wanted to pet them, however, and went on a mission to track them down, no matter where they went.

It took some convincing, but I got her to let the chickens be for a bit and we wandered off toward the horses.  She didn't miss a beat, clicking to them and saying, "hi".  She gets face time with horses and chickens at her grandma's, so I shouldn't be surprised that she is oh-so comfortable with them.

I am just always so impressed with her openess and initiative.  She wants to go check things out, see them, investigate, socialize.  To be honest, she was perfectly willing to pick up a chicken where I'd be a bit nervous myself.  Chickens are a bit weird for me.  Not this girl, she's all about it.  Crawling through trees and running through fields to track them down.  And what about this giant horse?  Her hand was through the fence and petting his snout before I had any say in the matter.  "No biggie, Mom".  

While we were eating lunch, a woman and her two kids sat outside and a bit away from us.  Rosie watched them get settled and looked to me, pointing at them saying, "I go see them?".  She loves to go play with other kids.  Yesterday we were at the Exploratorium and it was swarming with kids.  She pushed her way into a crowd of older kids, got into the fray of the activity with out a second thought.  

These moments make me nervous.  More than that they make me proud.  The nervousness is about losing her.  Losing her physically and emotionally.  She needs me less and the void is left a bit achy.  It's a proud ache.  We've done our job if she can survive outside of us and be a vibrant person in the world.  She's accomplishing the latter with wild abandon.  Of course it'll be awhile (years, I know) before she survives on her own, but if today is any indicator of her ability, then she'll have no problem.  

I can't help but be in an everlasting state of awe.  

February 1st- Your View Today

I found a list of things to blog about.  One for everyday of February.  Aren't you excited??

Today's is: your view today.

Here's mine

And by this I mean I had a mildly chaotic day.  We drove ourselves into the big city and chased our toddler around the streets and basically ran ourselves ragged. 

To me this shot is busy and the child looks a bit tired and lost.  It's a perfect description for my day.  A tired, a bit lost but wonderfully fulfilling day.

Brick Wall

I want to cry a lot lately.  Ugh.  When I try to stifle it I get raging headaches.  Yuck.

I cried when I watched the Dr. Suess Burning Man video in this post.  In the face of elation that is created through people coming together, erasing the perceived lines between themselves and connecting in the way that was always possible- makes me whimper and my chest feels full.  The very same thing happens in my personal life.  When a "stranger" and I let ourselves be open to each other in the simplest ways.  I get overwhelmed and weepy.

Speaking of the Burning Man video, there is a structure in the beginning that is made of wood (I think) that is burned at the end of the event.  According to my buddy Eric (my Burning Man guru) people put notes, letters, photos of loved ones passed, etc on the structure to be burned up with it in the end.  I immediately thought of Sunny.  Chewy & Leia.  Mark.  I think of writing to them.  Putting their photos on the structure and letting them go via a blaze in a desert night sky.  Like, really letting them go.  All of this brings about a torrent of tears that say to me, "Hey.  You may have not dealt with these saddnesses in the past (when they happened) but they are still here...waiting for you to pour out the tears it's gonna take to move on."

I cried yesterday during the movie "We Bought A Zoo".  I won't tell you why (no spoilers!) but it was incessant.  The whole freaking movie, while I loved it, was a sob fest for me.  If my toddler wasn't requiring constant attention -it was her first theater experience don'tcha know- I would have been consumed.

Then there is the fact that while I was sitting with my wee-one to fall asleep, E did the dishes.  I almost didn't know what to do with myself.  My routine has become (check it out, I am SUPER proud of myself for creating and sticking to this one, hey- it's small but it's big, you dig?) put the kid to bed, do the dishes.  We don't have a dishwasher, so this is more of an event than it used to be.  So here I am, sleeping kid with no dishes to do....so I thanked the man.  He responded by thanking me.  For what?  For everything.  Boom.  Tears.  

I feel so undeserving.  I feel like it's a constant struggle to be the wife I see as desirable and can't-live-without-able.  I'm frustrated with myself for being the stereo-typical "have a kid then be fat forever" person I was so sure I wouldn't be.  I used to be hypercritical of my physical self when we were dating.  I can't believe I was ever so unhappy with that fabulous body.  I am grateful for my body now, it's given me a lot to be thankful for and I haven't shown that gratefulness in it's upkeep.  One of the ways I am committed to loving my body is blogged about here.

I want to be the wife/mother who relishes her duties and keeps them up with ease and satisfaction.  Lately all I want to do is the 'mother' part.  That said, being the best mom I can be is hardly beneficial to my kid if I can't hold up my 'wife' end of the deal.  

To be clear, this has nothing to do with E.  It has everything to do with me.  My knee-jerk sniveling is a red flag to me that connectedness levels are low.  My walls are up and my love-letting is minuscule.  This is all on me.  It's my safe-mode.  

Ironically my safe-mode is keeping me 'safe' from feeling and from my loving marriage.  Sounds cool right?  Time to get out my chisel and hammer and get to work on this blasted wall.  

Blazing Humanoid

You may have heard an atrocious rumor that a few weeks ago I turned *ahem* thirty.  Damned lies.

Actually, I did.  

For my birthday I decided I didn't want "things".  I certainly don't need things and our living space doesn't allow for many more things to be a part of our repertoire.  I want an experience.  I want an experience that I wouldn't have had last year and that I may not have next year.  I want it to be special, extravagant, awesome.  So in lieu of "things" I was a request for money.  To execute my birthday wishes would probably take more money that I had laying around, even though I had no idea what it would be yet.  I know now.

For a bit of time it was a toss up between a spa weekend with the hubs (mud baths, luxurious bedding, massages- you get the idea) or an overnighter to see Wicked and stay at a B&B.  Both sounded like superb choices and yet I was having trouble committing to one.  I like to think that when the right thing comes my way I will feel joy and elation over my decision.  I'm so glad I hadn't chosen (and sent off my birthday money) yet.  

A few days ago I saw a video on youtube.  It brought back all kinds of lost yearnings.  How could I have forgotten how badly I wanted to go to Burning Man?

I watched this video and nearly cried.  If you know me, you knew this was inevitable.  My friend Eric (who has been multiple times) says that this video sums up how he sees Burning Man better than any video he's seen.  I want to go with a burning (ha!) passion.  I want to go so badly!  

And there it was.

I had collected almost exactly two tickets worth in cash for my birthday.  My heart was a flutter.  My heart was racing.  This is my birthday present.

I hope.

This year's ticket sale is via a lottery.  I entered into it today.  I might cry if I don't get in.  We'll know in February.  I am already thinking of the wild outfits I want to put together and the body art I want to take on. I have ideas for my hair and my shoes and my makeup.  It will be the most fun. 

Not everyone is excited for me (and some might even want to retract their birthday donation) but I am convinced it is because they don't really get Burning Man.  I don't even get it (yet) and how could I?  I haven't been.  Eric says it's, "like Disneyland for adults" and the everyone's attitude is, "happy and giving".  

So here I'll sit, waiting anxiously (so anxiously!) for February first.