Five Things That Have Happened

1. The event I've been working on since November, TEDxGrandRapids, took place last Thursday. I'm feeling incredibly lucky to have been part of such a dedicated and creative team and incredibly proud of the writing I did to give our event a voice. (Virtually all the website copy, blog posts, and audience newsletters - and many of the news releases - were written by me, and it's simultaneously a huge relief to be mostly done with the project and a strange sense of emptiness to not be thinking about it every day.) A few thoughts, post-event:

• As the event got close, another team member and I took over the Twitter feed. My job the day of the event was largely to post, re-tweet, monitor, reply, and keep track of an exploding hashtag - and I've really only been on Twitter in a minimal capacity for less than a year. All credit goes to the super-smart college student on my team who very nicely sat down with me, helped me set up TweetDeck, and taught me about RT, MT, hashtags, and all manner of Twitter usage. At one point I actually said, "I'm sorry! I'm thirty-five! I learned to type on a word processor!" but he was patient, and I was reminded that I'm not nearly old enough to stop learning new tricks.
• Our speakers were very, very smart people whose talks were challenging, interesting, and inspiring. This is exactly as we had hoped and planned, so - good! And yet, I don't think I'm the only one who found the cumulative effect of all those PhDs doing amazing research/people overcoming obstacles and dreaming big/innovative designers with bold ideas for the future to be the nagging thought, What am I even doing with my life? (And: I remember having that feeling before, after reading Mountains Beyond Mountains by Tracy Kidder, and I remember that it eventually went away, so I'm not too alarmed. I think I'll re-watch the talks when they come online, maybe one at a time so as not to be overwhelmed.)
• The night before, at the speaker-sponsor reception, I got to chat one-on-one for about half an hour with one of our speakers, a genomics medicine expert whose talk centered around the efficacy of genetic testing and what individuals might want to do with that information. I got to quiz him about my family history of Alzheimer's, ask about my insurance company suspicions, and get advice about whether and how to be tested. That interaction alone was priceless and gave me a ton to think about regarding my health care.
• Over the course of the day, I also saw a high-school classmate that I haven't had contact with since graduation, drank one perfect MadCap cappuccino, discussed vasectomies with the wife of a favorite local business owner I'd just met, used my latent calligraphy skills to prettify the name badges of late-registering attendees, and cried my eyes out at a TED video that was interspersed between the talks. It was a day unlike any other, that's for sure.

2. On Friday, I helped take the event down in the morning (this involved glamorous things like pulling up yards of sidewalk tape in the drizzling rain and washing out multiple water containers), then picked up my Riverbank Run 25K packet in the afternoon. Because WHY NOT RUN 15 MILES TWO DAYS AFTER A 16-HOUR EVENT? Our school principal, for whom a team of us was raising money with the run, generously hosted a pasta dinner for the runners and their families on Friday evening. It was nice to spend a little time with the other runners and their families, and in retrospect, it was nice to have that extra reminder that each of us, sponsored by others, was running for a dear cause. Because, while the first 12 miles of the run on Saturday went beautifully (Sarah and I talking and laughing and downing Gatorade as we always do), the last 3.5 miles did not feel good. At all. And I may or may not have been doing an embarrassing amount of self-talk and sing-song chants to the beat of my feet on the ground about being strong, running for a cause, and making our team proud. In the end, we finished - and within about 20 seconds of the time we've gotten every other time we've done this distance, too. Apparently if you wind me up, I do a nine-minute mile until I can't do any more. I came home, got in the hot tub, and spent much of the rest of the day in bed, thank goodness.

3. Sunday was Mother's Day. After the girls awakened me early (7:01) to bring me breakfast in bed (yogurt and granola, mango, coffee) and my favorite flowers (lilacs), I had a few moments to reflect on how my Mother's Days have changed so drastically over the years. I so clearly remember those first, blurry ones - crying babies, tantruming toddlers, so much sweating involved either packing us all up to go somewhere or hosting family at our house. I remember ending the day with a defeated sense that, to truly enjoy a day of thanks and relaxation, I'd have to do it WITHOUT my children, and that didn't feel right at all, Plus, my role then was so totally as A MOM that not getting that acknowledgement bothered me more than it probably should have. These days, I truly love (most of) the time I spend with the girls. They're not sleeping sweetly on my shoulder or using adorable three-year-old voices to babble brightly, and I do miss that, but they're legitimately fun to be with. Highlights of the day this year included the way the girls had hung little signs and pictures all around the house for me to find, our family brunch at Trillium Haven (where Annie took down a plate of bacon faster than I've ever seen), seeing both grandmas for a bit in the afternoon, and, of course, the cards the girls made me at school. Jemma's, I want the record to show, proclaimed that I "smell like honey," which is not exactly the message I get from her after I've returned from a run. Next time she backs away from my post-workout kiss, I'm going to yell, "I thought I smelled like honey!" and see what she says. Annie's entire list of "10 Things About My Mom" thrilled me - not just because it's a project I used to do with my second-graders after we'd read Because of Winn-Dixie, too, but mostly because of list item #5, which said, "Whining does not work with her." I'm not sure I'm going to stop celebrating that little tidbit, since it proves that if you say something almost every day for nearly nine years, your child will eventually internalize it. (I'm also not able to stop hearing that phrase in what I call the Wesley Willis voice. Jason agrees.) Anyway, it was a super-special day, and I felt loved and lucky, and I wish I could tell my past self that Mother's Day will eventually a) mean a little less to me in a good way, since I'll have other sources of affirmation in my life and b) get better, as far as the having fun WITH the kids thing goes.

4. On Monday, the sleeplessness and excitement of last week caught up to me. I got my hair cut, watched DVR'd Mad Men, and took a nap. I was like a college student after finals: only interested in sleeping, and wishing my mom would do my laundry.

5. Yesterday, I made Smitten Kitchen's salted brown butter rice krispie treats, then promptly ate almost half the pan. I mean, that's not the ONLY thing I did yesterday, it's just all I'm telling you about.

Right Now

:: listening to the birds chirping outside the dining room windows.

:: taking Instagrams of the magnolia trees in full bloom, waning daffodils, and my first tulips in the yard.

:: coping with the accompanying pollen-related allergy issues.

:: knowing I'm going to be sore from a tough yoga class this morning.

:: hydrating for tomorrow's last long run before the 25K.

:: procrastinating a few little writing assignments that need to get done before this event next Thursday.

:: wondering if it would be so wrong to make pineapple mojitos for the third night in a row.

:: wishing the laundry would fold itself.

:: feeling proud of my little writer and the great poetry she shared at yesterday's reading.

:: still giggling at Jemma's television debut this morning, announcing "This is FOX 17 morning news" before her class was featured on air to honor her teacher.

:: slowly learning just how much you find out by driving carpool.

:: looking forward to the weekend: soccer game, baking, piano recital, a little surprise date with a certain 8-year-old, gardening, grandparents, and friends.

Bad Things, January 2013

Every month or so, I try to use this space to record the myriad, little, everyday "good things" happening in my life right now: Instagram photos of favorite school projects, delicious food, happy snippets of conversation, moments I want to remember. One of the reasons I started blogging (back in 2006!) was because I found that the days all blended together, and I found myself not feeling grateful enough for the things that were right in front of me. I wanted to remember the stories of these days, and I wanted to remind myself of the good in the midst of life with young children.

However.

It is January. (Still.) It has been gray and foggy and raining a cold, disgusting drizzle for two days non-stop. I've felt borderline sick all day. So how about I bring you "good things" tomorrow and vent my "bad things" today? First-world problems, all; nevertheless, I like to keep things real.

So:

-I've eaten at least one piece of Jet's Pizza three out of the last four days. My stomach does not thank me.

-A super-strong wind blew the hot tub cover completely open last weekend, and in the process it literally bent the bar that helps open the cover. Now, when we open the hot tub up, the cover dangles dangerously close to the ground, and the bar threatens to snap right off due to the increased pressure. Jason is taking a wait-and-see approach about this.

-I am luckily wrapping up my annual self-imposed January detox (clearly I use the term loosely; see the first item in this list). I did a very good job of keeping the alcohol to a minimum (a glass of wine here and there when out for dinner with friends, but otherwise essentially no drinking at all), but I failed miserably at the "no treats" part of my plan.

-This text message exchange from today at 10:36 a.m., copied verbatim from my phone:

friend: What are you doing?
me: Get ready. Eating cold pizza in bed still in my pajamas and reading. Call in Zoloft prescription ASAP.
friend: OMG you are my idol!!!
me: No, really: I can't cope with this weather and fact that it's still January . . .  What are YOU doing?
friend: Haha . . . well, about to enter stupid Target. Then nothing. I'll probably get a coffee and sit in the Target eating area and stare out the window . . . Cymbalta . . .
me: Let's drive to airport and get a flight to Miami. Our families would figure things out.
friend: Totally. No really . . .  I am sitting at Target like a moron.
me: What are we even doing with our lives? . . . all is hopeless . . .
friend: Claaaaasic moms . . .
*2 hours later*
me: Spiraling . . . Eating chocolate chips out of pkg.
friend: Hahaha - you are killing me today . . .
me: I couldn't be more pathetic if I tried. Trying to rally, clean out cupboards so as to still be productive without having to leave house.
friend: You're holding on to nothing.

-30 Rock is ending this week. There's nothing else to say about that.

-At the girls' well-child checks yesterday, all was well except Jemma's right eye, which apparently has 20/40 vision. This is either 1. something developmental that she'll grow out of or 2. an indication that she needs glasses. Considering the percentage of the time that she drops fragile things (50) and/or loses things (50), I'm not enthusiastic about helping her care for and keep track of glasses. We shall see.

-Have I mentioned that it's STILL JANUARY???

Good Things, Christmas Eve 2012

Right now: I'm sitting on the couch in front of our Christmas tree for possibly the last night this year. I'm sipping a little Baileys Irish Cream. I'm ticking off a list of things to pack in my suitcase. I'm trying to remember where the extra camera battery is. I'm trying to stop, breathe, savor.

Earlier tonight, we did a few traditional things (went to church, drove around to look at the luminaries, had a fancy family fondue dinner, gave toasts to all the good people and places that have been a part of the past year, read 'Twas the Night Before Christmas, set out cookies and milk for Santa) and a few non-traditional things that might become new traditions (handed out candy canes and Starbucks gift cards and filled parking meters for strangers to practice random acts of kindness, went in the hot tub after the kids were in bed). We tucked in little girls who just can't wait for tomorrow morning, and I, for one, can hardly believe that tomorrow morning will be Christmas. Every year, in the rush to make another batch of cookies and send the stack of cards and buy one last gift, I forget that the 25th is really, truly going to come. I'm never sure if the rushing around is worth it, exactly, but tonight - when the rushing is over, when we have sung "Silent Night," when the gifts are placed with love beneath the tree, when the girls are snug in bed with new pink penguin flannel sheets, when the joy of tomorrow morning looms sure - is one of my favorite of the year. In spite of the rushing and the imperfection, Christmas morning comes every year, and with it the wonder and gratitude for another morning with my family, another moment to bank with the other good memories of the year.

Good things, this holiday season:

Celebrating Jemma's 6th birthday with a treat at school.

Annie, mid-laugh, at her classroom holiday party.

Chopping down the Christmas tree.

Favorite homemade ornaments.

Watching "Elf" with a fire in the fireplace.

Pumpkin bread.

That someone decorated this bench on my running route.

Snowy Saturday mornings in the hot tub.

Homemade peanut butter cups.

Making gingerbread cookies (and the kitchen looking like this!).

My favorite hands.

The KitchenAid mixer allllmooost not coping with the double batch of shortbread cookie dough.

Getting fresh kielbasa at Frank's for my family Christmas brunch.

A fun Friday night at the ultra-decorated Broadway Bar! . . .

 . . . with 3D glasses, followed by a horse-drawn carriage ride!

Looking pensive and pretty at Grandma and Grandpa's house.

Christmas Eve fondue.

Annie's toast to Candy Cane before she heads back to the North Pole for good: "Tell Santa we're not perfect, but we try our best, and safe travels to you!"

Setting out milk and cookies for Santa.

Taking turns reading 'Twas the Night Before Christmas.

My view, right now.

Holiday Stats

Number of times I've pre-heated the oven, forgetting that, with our limited pantry space, we're storing Christmas cookies in there so the kittens won't eat them: 4.

Number of plastic items I have melted in this way: 2.

Number of hours I wandered the house today, still in pajamas, covered in glitter, attempting to Wrap All The Presents: 3.

Number of cups of coffee I drank during this process: 3, large.

Number of shortbread cookies I ate during this process: 4.

Number of days this week my presence has been required at school for some type of holiday sing, party, birthday treat, or other volunteer activity: 4.

Number of days we have forgotten to "do" the Advent calendar: pretty much all.

Number of nights I cooked dinner this week: 1.

Number of kegs of beer my brother-in-law is bringing up north for Christmas: 1 (coconut porter - yay!).

Number of days until my five-year-old turns six: 7.

Number of minutes per day the cats attempt to attack the Christmas tree: 5.

Number of times I have driven to Target this month and realized when I got there that I hadn't brought my wallet: 1.

Number of trips to Target this week: 2.

Number of times I left my yoga mat at the studio after class: 1.

Number of times I went to the grocery store on Monday: 3.

Number of Rice Krispie snowmen with licorice scarves Jemma and I made on Monday: 24.

Number of leftover Twizzlers Pull-N-Peels I ate in a two-hour period on Tuesday, frantically trying to finish writing copy on deadline: the rest of the package.

Number of mornings ahead for sitting with coffee in front of the Christmas tree: 5.

Number of my girls holding construction paper candles in a crowded gym, singing about being the lights of the world: 2.

Number of me crying in the stands: 1.

Right Now

I'm:

:: still feeling a bit teary after yesterdays Veterans' Day assembly at the girls' school. There was Annie, waving a red streamer in the air; there was Jemma, singing her heart out: "When I am older, I will be stronger, You'll call me freedom, Just like the waving flag"; there was a ninety-year-old veteran speaker with profound wisdom and his sense of humor still intact; and there was my dad, smiling and winking at his grandchildren even as he was honored for his years-ago service.

:: grateful to be back on my (hot) yoga mat these last couple of weeks after a summer off.

:: finding myself with a bit of writing or editing to do almost every day, which is just the right balance for me.

:: missing the unseasonably warm weekend we had, which included hiking in the dunes, dipping toes in the lake one last time until spring, raking, hot-tubbing, walking to the grocery store, grilling, running, and gulping in fresh air through open windows.

:: noticing that the kittens have almost entirely taken over my Instagram feed. I don't know what to say about that. Apparently I've become the crazy cat lady. I'm sorry. (I'm not really sorry.)

:: Looking forward to listening to Christmas music (even though I haven't yet purchased a single Christmas gift).

:: Drinking a green smoothie and waiting for the girls to get home from school.

The State of Things: A List

Recent conversations with Jemma:

Looking at a photo on the wall at Annie's piano lesson with Miss Jody:

J: "Who is that man?"
Me: "You know him. Who do you think it is?"
J: "Oh, I know! Mr. Jody!"


Eating breakfast this morning:

J: "I'm not in a hurry for college to get here!"
Me: "What? No, no hurry for you to go to college. Someday."
J: "I want to live here with you forever."
Me: "Oh, when you're eighteen and nineteen, you'll want to live with your friends."
J: "How many rooms are there?"
Me: "Where? At college?"
J: "Yes. For sleeping."
Me: "Oh, hundreds or thousands. It depends on how big the college is."
J: "Are there pink ones? I hope there are some pink ones."

*****

Things the kittens have eaten or tried to eat:

-cream cheese
-butter
-chicken noodle soup
-homemade dulce de leche
-brownies
-oatmeal
-Boursin cheese
-peanut butter
-carrots

*****

Times that Annie has had her seat moved in the classroom since the beginning of the school year: Three.

I assume we'll be hearing about that at conferences . . .

*****

What I spend my time doing, now that the girls are in school all day:

-getting groceries
-cleaning the litter box
-working out
-making food

*****

 Things I thought I would do while the girls were in school all day that I basically never do:

-luxuriate with a book and a coffee in my house
-keep a cleaner house
-write
-nap

*****

I have purchased a single thing ever from Restoration Hardware, and that was an end table on clearance about two or three years ago. But now they send me their ENORMOUS, RIDICULOUS catalogs on a regular basis. I need to make it stop. THREE of the behemoths came yesterday, and it is enough to make me join the Sierra Club. Restoration Hardware: Think of the trees! We have this new thing called The Internet where you can show your overpriced items without killing all the trees in North America!

*****

What I want for Christmas:

a DSLR camera
cute boots
every candle in Anthropologie

fin.

Right Now

A little snapshot of July 2012 for me. Right now, I'm:

:: trying my hardest not to let all our newly-planted landscaping die in this never-ending drought, and spending a great deal of my time spraying things down with the hose twice a day.

:: loving night runs, zucchini bread, smoothies with fresh berries, hot tub conversations after the kids are in bed, Hendrick's gin and tonic (with cucumber!), watching the girls play tennis every morning this week, and our lazy afternoon today: art easel outside, books scattered everywhere, dinner in the backyard.

:: noticing that every single throw pillow in the house has been commandeered for doll bed construction projects in the upstairs playroom.

:: relatedly thinking that the tough thing about having a weekly babysitter at your house is that you can't pretend that this mess or that rotten tomato or that pile of laundry just happened. She was here last Tuesday; she knows.

:: cracking open a window in the living room so that the fairies can get in and spend the night in the elaborate house Annie and Jemma have spent parts of the last three days making. (Also sprinkling glitter and chalk dust around the front steps as proof that they came.)

:: loving that they still really, truly believe in fairies.

:: feeling grateful that the girls have been playing together so incredibly well these last few weeks.

:: trying to start keeping a gratitude journal - just a few short lines each night right before bed - and encourage the girls to keep them, too. (This has actually happened on two of the last nine or ten days, but! two is better than none.)

:: being amused at the phone conversation I had a few days ago where, when I called a source for an interview for an article I'm writing, I was told there was a "new media policy" and the source "couldn't talk to the press" about this issue. Gosh, am I The Press? I was thinking I was just a mom at her dining room table with a laptop while her daughters were at tennis for an hour, but I guess I sort of am. Hee.

:: feeling a little sheepish that two separate people commented incredulously on the stack of library books I was checking out this morning, one of whom was the librarian. "Wow! Going on a trip?" she asked. "No, that's just my normal." What can I say? I am a nerd. (In the stack: Mitten Strings from God by Katrina Kenison, Perfect Madness by Judith Warner, Jesus Wants to Save Christians by Rob Bell, The Lake Shore Limited by Sue Miller, Year of Wonders by Geraldine Brooks, and a few more I chose at random and can't remember offhand.)

:: having the first, sneaky thoughts about fall, but still trying mightily to block them out.

Antidote

Kicking my own butt at the gym for an hour: treadmill, rowing machine, jump rope, weights.

Lunch at Marie Catrib's with Jemma (yes, of course pudding).

Lucky pedicures and swinging at the playground afterwards to dry our toenails.

Reading a pile of library books in the car while waiting for Annie to come out of school.

New running shoes and lipgloss. 

Inhaling fresh air with next-door neighbors before dinner, and children doing cartwheels madly in the grass. 

Well-behaved, cooperative, happy, and all-around hilarious children.

New Patricia Polacco book at bedtime.

Scoring a last-minute babysitter so I could join some friends to drink (too much) wine, and drinking the first Chardonnay I have ever liked.

This quote from Mary Oliver: 

"Sometimes I need

only to stand

wherever I am

to be blessed." 

This ridiculous video MY FRIEND MADE:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5QmRUL6f9rs&feature=youtube_gdata_player

Sleeping with the window cracked open.

You Know It's Been a Bad Day When . . .

• You have to wear a hat and mittens to walk your kid to school. In April.
• You spend much of your morning waiting around for a guy to come pick up the mattress you're donating.
• One of the first things your husband says to you when he gets home from work is, "Hey. I have a zit there right now, too."
• When he arrives home from work, you are lying face-down across the bed and you say, "I want to run away from home." AND YOU MEAN IT.
• You beg your husband to take the children to piano lessons and while they're gone you get into the tub with a glass of wine, five snack-size Twizzlers from your kids' Easter basket, and the phone. You are still there when they return.
• You slam a door so hard that the framed black and white photo you took in college falls off the wall and into the toilet.
• Your daughter outright refuses to get in the car after playing on the playground after school, and later runs away from you while you're talking to her for the eleven thousandth time in the last week, so you calmly tell her that it's a problem that you're going to solve together. The first solution you offer is that you will buy her a leash and put it on her every day when she comes out of school until you feel comfortable trusting her to listen. AND YOU'RE NOT REALLY KIDDING.
• You go to the library after the kids go to bed, trying to re-stock the kid's books for the next week, and they make the "The library is now closing announcement." You hurry to the check-out counter, where your card is denied because you have fines totaling more than $10.00.
• Things on the agenda for tomorrow include: Write large check to contractor; stay out of house for entire day because of lead dust; take child to therapist; re-wash load of laundry you forgot about which now smells terrible; wait in vain for exploratory freelance emails to be returned.

The Weekend That Was

Weekend highlights (or lowlights, as the case may be):

• Impromptu dinner with friends at Everyday People on Friday night.
• Moving all the upstairs furniture downstairs, then all the girls' furniture and clothing and CRAP upstairs. They slept upstairs for the first time on Saturday, and the love their new space.
• Annie had an honest-to-God temper tantrum/meltdown about . . . a turkey sandwich.
• We sat through an incredibly long Palm Sunday church service and celebrated by taking the girls out for coffee and treats at The Fancy Hotel.
• Family dinner on Saturday night followed by watching A Dolphin Tale for movie night.
• Plenty of cleaning, sorting, throwing away when the girls weren't looking, and carting a carload of old stuff away to donate.
• New ranunculus in the pots on my front steps.
• Sponge rollers and the resulting curls.
• Family walks and bike rides snuck in between the drizzle.
• The almost-13-year-old vacuum died (just as I had finally cancelled the cleaning service, too!), so I braved Bed Bath & Beyond to get a new one, and I am quite proud of the amount of money I saved on a new Dyson by finding one on clearance AND using my 20% off coupon.
• A week ahead of no school, not too many plans, cousins, Easter, friends, and barbecues.

More Good-ish Things

I appreciate a nod to retro and I'm as big a fan of Mad Men as anyone (how great was Sunday's double-episode season 5 premiere?), but when this came in the mail yesterday, I wasn't sure what to think about it:

My reactions, in the order that they occurred to me:

1. Why is she so mad?
2. What, exactly, is L.L. Bean trying to sell with this picture?
3. This reminds me of a funny story Jason's mom tells about the way she used to feel early in her marriage when Jason's dad would take her to the cabin, then abandon her to go fishing all day.
4. No, seriously. Why is she mad? Does she not like fish? Does he want her to clean and cook the fish? Is she mad that her daughter fell asleep? Is it past bedtime? Did he leave without telling her where he was going?
5. That guy is pretty proud of himself, isn't he?
6. What year is it supposed to be here?

(Edited to add Jemma's take: "Oh, I know why she's mad. It's because the little girl is wearing tap shoes to the beach!" They are technically saddle shoes, but she has a valid point.)

I did not find the answers to any of these questions, but I did have a good laugh about the picture with Katie before our run this morning.

*****

Annie has taken to sleeping in her sleeping bag, on top of her bed. I think it's so she doesn't have to make her bed in the morning. That's creative problem-solving, I guess.

*****

Jemma gave herself her entire bath last night: soap, shampoo, conditioner, the whole nine yards. When she got out and I was helping to towel her off, she said, "I'm the happiest yet!"

*****

Sarah and I found ourselves at Target at the exact same time yesterday morning, and the Target employees were not even really trying to hide their amusement at us as we expressed our glee at the new, improved SuperTarget produce section. "Look!"we trilled, "an avocado! At Target!"

Dancing Around the Edges

For the first time in a long time, things are happening in our lives that I don't feel comfortable writing about here. And since some of the things are Big Things and are taking up a lot of space in my brain, I just haven't been writing at all. It seems measly and even a bit dishonest, really, to write about the small things right now, but I am going to do it anyway.

five small things:

1.  My parents celebrated forty years of marriage a couple weekends ago. Forty years is kind of a long time. We celebrated with brunch at Cygnus (YUM) and the girls made them cards. That's about as big-deal as they wanted, but I still think it was pretty special.

2.  Jemma told me cheerfully that I had a baby in my tummy one morning. Which . . . no. And on that note, the January detox is still mostly in effect.

3.  Our family worked for a whole weekend on a five-hundred-piece puzzle in the middle of the floor in the hallway. (I was not around when this location was chosen and the puzzle was begun.) Allocation of puzzle-doing: Stephanie, 3 pieces; Annie, 5 pieces; Jason, 200 pieces; Jemma, all the rest.

4.  Last Wednesday, it was 55 and sunny and we played hopscotch in the driveway after running home from school with no coats, like so:

On Friday, the walk home looked like this:

Winter is confusing.

5.  We applied for a zoning variance that would allow us to demolish our current garage and re-build it in a better location, and it passed! We are so happy that we'll finally be able to get rid of the concrete/pea gravel/chain-link-fence "backyard" and create a little postage stamp of yard and functional patio for some privacy behind our house. Though outdoor construction won't begin until spring, there's lots to do in the meantime, including moving the girls' bedrooms upstairs and making plans to construct a main floor laundry room (yay!) and an actual mudroom. With luck, this will be the last winter when wet snow pants will leave puddles on my kitchen floor.

2011 Year in Review: Yoga, Jamaica, and Balance

1. What did you do in 2011 that you’d never done before?

Saw U2, Mega 80's, and Sara Barielles in concert. Took the girls to Great 
Wolf Lodge and Chicago overnight, the Nutcracker, and Jamaica.
Learned to make homemade marshmallows and dinner rolls. Published
two poems. Celebrated my dad's 65th birthday, our twelfth wedding
anniversary, the tenth girls' weekend, Annie's 7th birthday and Jemma's
5th birthday. Ran the Grand Rapids half marathon and became obsessed
with hot yoga. Sold a house. WatchedAnnie get her ears pierced. Spent
a weekend on Mackinac Island. Wore my wedding dress to
a party that was not my own wedding. Started getting allergy shots, 
and started some new Christmas traditions with our family.

2. Did you keep your new year’s resolutions, and will you make more for next year?


Here's what I resolved a year ago:

1.  Kick the year off with a January detox - no alcohol, no red meat, very little "white" anything, lots of water and fresh fruits and vegetables for one month.  Did it! Loved it! Going to do it again this year!

2.  Find a meaningful way to "give back" and start doing it. Sadly, nope.

3.  Establish good systems to organize the things in my life that consistently 
overwhelm me:  photos, recipes, books, and kids' art.  Mostly yes: I started using Goodreads to track my books, have been much better about uploading and printing photos, and took a weekend to organize my recipes and make bins for the best kids' art.

4.  Complete and make public my Life List.  Check.

For 2012, I'm personally resolving to write daily, and possibly 
to work on a larger and more ambitious project than 
this blog. Our family is resolving to find some type of 
community service we can do together.

3. Did anyone close to you give birth?


My friend Andrea had a new babe, and Chris and Sarah added a 
fourth child to their family, but I am having a hard time remembering
 many other birth announcements on our fridge this year.

4. Did anyone close to you die?

Sadly, Jason's uncle John.

5. What countries did you visit?

Jamaica!

6. What would you like to have in 2012 that you lacked in 2011?

I'm wishing lately for more clarity about what the next stage of my life 
is going to look like and I'm always wishing for more time to write.
I'd like more patience every year.
As far as material possessions, though? I'm crazy lucky.

7. What dates from 2011 will remain etched upon your memory, and why?

I just wrote a few of them down here.

8. What was your biggest achievement of the year?


For the first time since I've been doing this year-end review, I really 
feel like 2011 was the year where I found a good and healthy balance
between self, family, friends, work, play, and all the elements that
make up my life. 

9. What was your biggest failure?

I lost my temper with the kids more that I'd like to admit, and while 
there are days and moments when I feel great about the way I'm raising
my kids, there are also days and
moments when I feel sure I'm making one mistake after another. 

10. Did you suffer illness or injury?

Nothing major, thankfully.

11. What was the best thing you bought?

New fancy eye cream and lipgloss, a cool Eames walnut stool, piano 
lessons for Annie. the book The Blessing of a Skinned Knee, babysitting,
a week in paradise.

12. Where did most of your money go?

All the usual places, plus some extra to sell the old house, refinance 
this one, and pay off both cars.

13. What did you get really excited about?

I excitedly anticipated my annual girls' weekend, all the live music events 
we got to see this year, and a more meaningful and low-key holiday
season. I fell in love with yoga even more this year but still appreciate a 
good, hard run. I loved Tina Fey's book, Bossypants, and got sucked 
into Mad Men, too. It's embarrassing to admit, but I was awfully excited
about the new Anthropologie store opening just minutes from our house.
Going there with a cup of coffee feels like a little getaway.

14. What song will always remind you of 2011?

Well, 2011 was the year our family got sucked into the Bieber Fever, 
but if I have to choose a specific song, it'd probably be Dog Days Are 
Over by Florence + The Machine, simply because I heard it performed
live the first time I encountered this strange and lovely artist
and because we've since danced to it in the kitchen many a time.

15. Compared to this time last year, are you:


– happier or sadder? You know, I think I'm a little happier.
– thinner or fatter? Same, same - but I can do more push-ups!
– richer or poorer? Richer.

16. What do you wish you’d done more of?


More silly play with my kids while they still want to do it with me, more
 writing, more generous reactions to difficult situations.

17. What do you wish you’d done less of?


Less yelling, less procrastinating, less getting worked up about things 
that aren't really important.

18. How did you spend Christmas?

We went up north to celebrate with Jason's family the weekend before, 
had a cozy Christmas Eve just the four of us, and went to my parents'
house in the afternoon on Christmas Day.

19. What was your favorite TV program?

Still loving Modern Family, and I'll note that the girls would probably 
say Wild Kratts.

20. What were your favorite books of the year?

Bossypants, Room, State of Wonder, The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks, 
Olive Kitteridge, Let the Great World Spin, The History of Love, 
The Blessing of a Skinned Knee, The Price of Motherhood, The Art of 
Fielding, Bittersweet, Salvage the Bones.

21. What was your favorite music from this year?


A friend made me a fun CD that brought me up to speed a little, full 
of Mumford and Sons, The Decemberists, and other assorted current
goodness.

22. What were your favorite films of the year?

I really liked Crazy, Stupid, Love. I . . . barely can remember any other 
movies I saw this year.

23. What did you do on your birthday, and how old were you?

I turned 34, Annie turned 7, and we went to brunch at Rose's after church.

24. What one thing would have made your year immeasurably more satisfying?

Ahhh, if I'm really reaching, perhaps children who listen on the first try?

25. How would you describe your personal fashion concept in 2011?

Trying to pull it together just the tiniest bit more than in years past.

26. What kept you sane?

These answers seem to be the same every year: friends, running, yoga, 
Jason, coffee, alcohol, writing, reading, an hour or so a day not speaking
to anyone. 

27. Tell us a valuable life lesson you learned in 2011.


I'm not feeling particularly wise right now, but I do think I got better
 about having honest (if difficult) conversations rather than avoiding
confrontations, and the honest approach turns out better every time.

Things That Happened

Jason belongs to a small group of guys, a club of sorts which I should not even be writing about because, like Fight Club, the first rule of the club is: do not talk about the club. But anyways, they get together every once in a while and one thing they do is drink. It's not an excessive, frat-boy kind of drinking but instead a nerd-like kind of drinking that involves blind tastings and rating systems and whatnot. Needless to say, although these events usually occur within a very short distance from our home, I never let Jason go out the door without yelling, "Don't drink and drive!"at him. I'm sure he finds this helpful. But it seems that he is listening, because when I asked him on Thursday morning if he had walked home the night before, he said casually, "Dave pulled me home in the Chariot behind his bike." So there is now a photo of Jason, covered with a blanket and looking for all the world like Mini-Me from Austin Powers (but in a stroller rather than a Baby Bjorn), in a bike trailer.

*****

I went to the mall yesterday. I'd been needing to replace my concealer and procrastinating the visit to the Bobbi Brown counter until I could go on a day when I'd actually showered and was wearing something other than sweaty workout clothes. (Why do I feel the need to look my best for the complete stranger at the makeup counter yet I present my just-finished-75-minutes-of-yoga self at my child's school on a regular basis?) Here's how the interaction went:

Me: Hi, I need new undereye concealer, but I don't see the little pot I have right now.
Beautiful Makeup Lady with Intriguing Accent: Ah, yes. We've discontinued that packaging; the concealer comes packaged with powder now, too.
Me: Ah, okay, I'm not sure what color I'll need, then.
BMLwIA: Well, if you have a moment I can put you in the chair and try one or two on for shade matching.
Me (FATAL MISTAKE): Oh, sure.
BMLwIA, frowning at my face: Now, what are you using for an undereye cream?
Me: Oh, I just use one all-over moisturizer for my whole face.
BMLwIA: (shakes head sadly) No, no. Is most important skin to care for! (Takes pot of thick white cream and begins dabbing it under my eyes.)
Me: That does look . . . dewy.
BMLwIA: Now, next we need to put a corrector under the concealer.
Me: I . . what is corrector?
BMLwIA: You'll see, it brightens the undereye area and really camouflages the dark circles you have.
Me, looking in mirror: Yeah. It does.
BMLwIA: Now I apply undereye concealer, set with powder, and finish with bronzer. Voila!"
Me, looking in mirror, looking about a zillion times better than I did four minutes earlier: My husband is going to kill me.

I don't know, I'm in my mid-thirties, and I suppose it's time to move beyond the drug-store make-up that I've been using since I was a teenager. And when Jason sees the credit card bill, I'll just remind him about that one time he went to Costco to buy eggs and came home with $150.00 worth of groceries.

*****

We're taking the girls to see The Nutcracker this afternoon. To say they are excited would be an understatement. Annie appeared in the kitchen at 7:30 this morning, dressed head to toe in the outfit she's going to wear to the ballet, complete with tights, shoes, and headband. "Can you curl my hair?" she asked. "And can I borrow a pair of your earrings?" In six hours, Annie, in six hours . . .

*****

A year ago right now, Jason and I were in Quebec City. Sigh.

I Have Been . . .

 . . . making lists, checking them twice, losing the lists, and making more lists.
 . . . avoiding getting the mail, because I haven't addressed my Christmas cards yet and I don't particularly want to see the eager beaver ones in my mailbox.
 . . . going to book club and actually talking about the book (Room by Emma Donoghue).
 . . . using an inappropriately large portion of my child-free time at hot yoga, my latest exercise obsession.
 . . . getting up before the rest of the family in the mornings just to drink my coffee in the dark and look at the Christmas tree.
 . . . wishing for snow, even though I usually loathe it, because it just doesn't seem like almost-Christmas without it.
 . . . painting toenails with holiday colors.
 . . . learning how to download free e-books from the library onto the iPad (magic!).
 . . . wishing Annie would stop answering, "a hamster" when asked, "What do you want from Santa?"
 . . . sending out invitations for Jemma's 5th birthday party!
 . . . planning our lives into February, already.
 . . . eating Clementines.
 . . . snuggling with the girls on the couch to watch bits of Polar Express and The Grinch.
 . . . doing laundry.
 . . . scouting for new, improved holiday cookie recipes.
 . . . barely cooking.
 . . . avoiding writing.
 . . . braiding the girls' hair.
 . . . listening to Annie practice her piano.
 . . . swooning over Ryan Gosling in the movie Crazy Stupid Love.
 . . . trying to make this season about cozy joy and anticipation instead of frantic preparation.
 . . . eating more than my fair share of sushi.
 . . . reminiscing that Jason and I were on our way to Quebec City exactly a year ago today.
 . . . thinking about getting a job.
 . . . wanting to freeze time.

Six Things Now

I keep trying to write some sort of coherent post, but it's not happening.  (This afternoon, while I had a little time to write because Jemma was napping?  I took a nap.  So.)  Instead, this:

1.  Sometimes I wonder why the moms I know seem to be just as busy and frantic as our own mothers were.  At first glance, this seems to not make sense, since my generation tends toward fewer children, more modern conveniences, and more helpful spouses.  Do you know what I think is causing this problem?  EXERCISE.  We do it, our mothers generally did not.  And it takes up a lot of time, what with the working out and the post-workout showering and the workout-clothes laundry.  I am not sad about this, I am just saying.

2.  Things I have been requested to bring to Thanksgiving:  rolls, cranberry sauce.  I have never made either thing, but I do love a challenge in the kitchen, so there are two bags of cranberries and a new 3-lb. bag of flour in my kitchen right now.

3.  I have read Three! Books! In a Row! to which I have assigned the rare-but-special five-star rating on Goodreads.  They are Olive Kitteridge by Elizabeth Strout, The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks by Rebecca Skloot, and The Art of Fielding by Chad Harbach.  Go.  Read them.  And tell me what I should read next.

4.  I have begun stockpiling Christmas gifts for the girls in the basement since our house is old and lacks sufficient closet space.  I warned Jason the minute that I started this:  "I'm putting Christmas presents downstairs.  Don't let the girls down there from now on."  I didn't think it would be a problem, because the basment is unfinished and creepy and the only things down there are the Costco overflow groceries, the laundry room, Jason's "workbench," and the hundreds of empty beer bottles our teetotaling Baptist-ish contractor was able to see multiple times last week.

On Sunday, I took the girls down to the track to do some bleachers and sprints with me, which they participated in surprisingly well, and when we returned home I promised them Gatorade.  I left the kitchen briefly and when I came back, Jason was alone in the kitchen while the soup simmered on the stove.

"Where are the girls?" I asked, though I already knew the answer.

"Getting Gatorade in the basement," he said, and I ran down the stairs like a crazy person, where I found the girls adorably trying to figure out how to un-shrink-wrap the case of Costco Gatorade . . . about three feet away from a giant shopping bag full of most of their unwrapped Christmas presents.  Luckily they had no idea, but you can bet someone got the stinkeye when the three of us emerged from the basement.

5.  I went to Trader Joe's last weekend and have since become obsessed with their mini peppermint waffle cookies.  I bought two packages.  I ate the last cookie today.  (Today, with its napping and its cookie-eating, really makes me look good, no?)  Why, WHY can there not be a Trader Joe's in this town?

6.  Jemma celebrated Thanksgiving today at preschool with a "feast."  She now knows a fair amount about the Wampanoag Indians and how to make butter from cream by shaking it while you dance.  She was able to choose her Native American name, which is Princess Love Dancing Sunlight.

Snapshot, List-Style

On the radio, per the girls' request:

• "That Billy Joel song about the pants"
• "No Need to Argue" by The Cranberries
• "Toy Soldiers" by Martika
• "Heaven is a Place on Earth" by Belinda Carlisle
• "Rollin' in the Deep" by Adele

In the car, because I am messy:

• two children's tennis rackets
• an empty Coke can
• my new favorite Stila lipglass, Raisin
• one carseat, one booster
• yoga mat
• one gallon of sand
• two clipboards with plain white paper
• an entire carton of crayons, scattered on the floor in the backseat
• library books, possibly overdue

On Annie's nightstand:

• Little House on the Prairie
• her portable stereo, with Totally 80's karaoke for kids! inside
• wadded Kleenex
• spare pairs of earrings, yet to be worn
• a pink and white lamp
• photos of her as a baby
• pieces of her doop that fall off
• a ponytail holder
• a journal
• sunscreen

In the fridge:

• leftover chicken pot pie
• Bell's Cherry Stout (my favorite!)
• bacon
• cider
• sage
• kale, rotting in vegetable drawer
• Greek yogurt
• leftover part of a can of pumpkin puree

Channelling Andy Rooney

A list of things making me grumpy:

• Jemma's ear infection/general virus/pinkeye (?), which forced a visit to the pediatrician's early-morning walk-in clinic, which was full even though we got there 25 minutes before it ended, which caused us to need an appointment later in the morning, which caused Jemma to miss her class field trip today.  Sub-grumpiness related to this grumpiness:

               - Jemma has not yet realized that she missed the super-duper-fun field trip to the pumpkin  

                 patch, but she surely will realize it when she returns to school tomorrow.

               - the prescription she is now on for said ear infection pretty much guarantees she'll have

                 diarrhea for the next 7-10 days.  

• The post-race intestinal distress and general body unhappiness brought on by yesterday's successful (2:01) half-marathon.  At least I felt good during the run . . . ?
• The fact that, this many years into teaching and modeling table manners, my oldest daughter still wipes her messy hands on her clothes while eating and my youngest daughter still wipes her mouth on her sleeve.  When, I ask, WHEN will they start actually using the napkin that sits next to their plate without being reminded?
• The word "fav" being used all over the internet.  "Fav" is not a word, people.  Remember that thing you learned in first grade called "the magic e"?  You know, where putting an "e" on the end of a word makes the preceding vowel "say its name"?  If you want it to rhyme with "Dave," you need to spell it "fave."  Like, you know, "rave," "gave," "save," "concave," . . . do I need to go on?
• The phrase "You're young!" being thrown out a lot by people of an older generation towards people in my generation, often as an excuse for their own lack of energy.  Since I am still "young," relatively speaking, I'll have to take their word for it that I won't be feeling quite as spry as I do now come thirty years or so.  I mean, I definitely can't do some of the things I did in college, like pull all-nighters or stay out past 2:00 a.m. several nights in a row and still function the next day.  So I get that energy levels naturally dwindle, etc.  But I take issue with "You're young!" being used to somewhat devalue the effort that those of us who are still "young" put into life.  Yes, we're young-ish, but things still take work and effort and we're still tired as hell sometimes at the end of the day, too.  Being young might make it more possible, or easiER, but it's not MAGIC.  It's not, "Oh, I'm young, so juggling all these things in my life is effortless!"  It's, "I suppose this is easier than it would be if I tried to do it in thirty years, but it is still hard work."  
• Spending money recently on the most boring things possible:  fixing my car's muffler/exhaust system, having the sewer lines roto-rooted, putting in new windows upstairs in our house.  BORING.