February 2009, Looking Back

With February, we finally had some winter weather. We got some much-needed precipitation in the valley and some much-enjoyed snow in the mountains. I decided it was the right time to invest in some snow AND rain boots, and then put both new pairs of shoes to work. The kids had a ton of fun up in Pollock with the Williams, sledding, butt-scooting, and building snow people.

I had the opportunity to go to Mason's parent-teacher conference. Mason's teacher showered him with praise and helped to reinforce to me that I'm doing what I'm supposed to be doing -- raising my kids. I was able to recommit to being a mom full time and feel good about the people I am helping to shape.

February was wet and cold and a lot of fun. We were blessed with moisture, with good times with our family and friends, and with recognition of the hard work we do.

January 2009, Looking Back

In January 2009, Marissa experienced her first birthday. She got to celebrate this milestone several times, at both Grandmas' and at home. Soon thereafter, she decided the time was right to start walking. I could see her growing up literally before my eyes. I felt sad and wrote about my selfishness here.

We took our first plane ride with Marissa to Colorado so Landon and Mason could be in our friends' wedding. Both looked awesome in their kilts, and we had lots of fun. Landon and I decided that shelling out for the cost of an extra ticket to bring Tessa was the best idea we ever had, like ever, and committed to at least inviting her to accompany us on any future trips. We also decided that Tessa might very well be the coolest teenager to have ever lived.
Landon was really busy at work, on one case or another, and so the kids and I spent a lot of time playing together. We took a lot of walks to the park and blew many bubbles in the back yard. I took pictures for Landon to enjoy later, and snapped some of my favorite pictures ever of both my kids.

January was a busy month, full of changes and adjustments (mostly for the change-averse mom in this house). It was full of challenges, but mostly, it was full of blessings for our entire family. We were blessed with the opportunity to earn a good living. We were blessed to grow and learn and evolve. We were blessed with time together to become closer and grow our love as a family. We were blessed with the opportunity to be with our friends during a most special time in their lives.

A List in Photos

Big mommy blog sorta day. I'm going to go ahead and use photos to demonstrate many of the things for which I feel truly grateful. Why? Because I've been making our annual photobook gift for my parents and there are just many, many extremely cute, funny, beautiful, incredible things which happen to be perfect visual representations. That's why.

First, I am grateful for this guy and his enthusiasm and energy and hunger for life:

He does things with great zest and real joy, which makes me smile and laugh and feel so grateful that he came to live at my house.

Next, I am grateful for this chick and her giggles and fun imagination:

She is delightful and fun and sweet, and I feel so blessed to be her mommy. Also, an aside I feel compelled to record so I don't forget, she has recently been a cat a lot. Mostly, this entails her snuggling into my lap and saying "meow" in her highest pitched voice. On Friday night, we went and saw my neice perform in a regional honor band (First chair, french horn... and she's only 15!). Marissa decided she was a cat and meowed through much of the performance, even when it was otherwise completely silent. Now, this might have annoyed some people, but let's all get over ourselves for a moment and appreciate the beauty of being a child: innocent and pure and full of imagination.

Next, I am grateful for beauty in the world, in the form of nature. While I'm not the world's best photographer, the natural beauty that surrounds me sometimes allows me to get pretty stunning photos:

I think being happy is often about appreciating those tiny moments when something catches your eye, enraptures your senses if only for a brief time, and makes the rest of your day different. Better. Happier. There is a vista like that on the way to my parents' house. I still haven't captured it well enough, but every time I turn that corner, I have to catch my breath and smile.

Finally, although this isn't everything I'm grateful for (you'll notice Landon is absent from this post, and we all know he's the most frequent guest of honor on this here blog), I'm going to end with this kid:

This is my niece, Corra. After combing through literally thousands of photos to compile the annual photobook for my parents over the last several years, the pictures of Corra are always the ones that crack me up the most. Her face is so expressive, and she has absolutely no problem letting you know exactly how she feels. She's a character, big time, and I just appreciate her so much.
Amen.

Confirmation

Flashback to two nights ago. It was 6:30. I had just finished dinner with the kids and they were both covered in pudding. My daily call to Landon had confirmed his time home at around 7:30, so I was on my own with the bath and bedtime stuff (which is usually the case anyway). Mason had refused an afternoon nap (again, usually the case these days), and Rissa was a little cranky all day. Bedtime, although a little hectic, is usually one of my more favorite times of day because of the snuggles and book reading. I ran the bath and got the Rissa into it, but Mason was resisting. He didn't want to take a bath. He didn't want to go to bed. He only wanted Dad, who is much nicer and much more fun. Also, he only loves Dad the most (he's been throwing that into the mix a lot lately t00). Now, while I'm not one to force a bath on a kid, the Dude was covered in pudding and had already skipped a bath the day before. A bath seemed very much in order.
So I say to him, "You can either take a bath, or you can go to bed right now," thinking that the obvious choice would be take the bath.
He looks at me with his little "not gonna budge" face and says, "None."
"None isn't an option, Mase. You have two options. One is to get in the bath. The other is go to bed right now."
"None!" he responds, more forcefully. At this point I know I'm hitting a wall.
"Mason, I am going to count to three. Then you will tell me whether you want to take a bath or go to bed. If you cannot choose one of the two, then I will choose for you" (this is something the teachers at his school do). "One, two, three."
"NONE!" and a frustrated groan is all I get. So I inform Mason that he will be taking a bath. I finish undressing him (which is no easy task, by the way. Undressing an unwilling almost five year old as he kicks and generally throws a fit is hard). I'm getting to the point where putting him in the bath seems like a pretty awful idea, so I decide he's headed to bed after all. So, I take said flailing five year old into his room and put him in bed (naked). This really freaks him out. Going to bed is apparently an even worse option than going into the bath, and he asks to take a bath.
"Great!" I say, and instruct him to go get in the bath. He heads to the bathroom, where he suddenly discovers a small hangnail. This gets him wailing like he's discovered one of his fingers is missing or something.
"I caaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaan't take a bath. WAAAAAAAAAAAH! It will hurt my OOOOOWWWIIIIIIIEE!"
"Dude. Mason. I'm so finished with this. Get in the stupid bath. NOW!" says I, except I'm a yeller, so I'm yelling it sorta like a crazy person.
So there I am, yelling at my kid, who is in full blown hysterics (which is, as I have pointed out before, very, incredibly helpful), trying to put him in the bath. The girl, who is already in the bath, does not look kindly upon what is going down in her bathroom between her mom and brother, and also starts crying hard. She generally prefers a Mason-free bath since he likes to dump water on her and otherwise disrupt her precious alone-time (I know all about that), so she's really not keen on Mason joining her bath while he's all freaking out.
At this point, I'm not backing down from the bath. I stick him in it, but don't feel right about making him sit or lay down. So I splash water on his face/head (screaming escalates) to, at the very least, remove the pudding from all over his face (why did this crazy kid deserve pudding again?). I succeed in removing the pudding, then I grab him out of the tub, wrap him in a towel and throw him onto his bed.
"GO TO BED! NOW!" I scream, and slam his door shut. Since he is being a very nice boy and an excellent listener, he immediately gets out of bed and tries to open his door. My experience tells me this is going to happen, so I'm waiting by the door, anticipating his every move. "GET IN BED, NOW, MASON!"
Here's where we reach my aside. Long before I had kids, I decided I wasn't going to be a spanker. All the parenting books and magazines says it does more harm than good, and since I try to be a conscientious parent, I'm gonna go with the experts. Except, then the real world sets in and you have a screaming, collicky, GER-suffering baby who cries for hours and hours on end and a 3 year old who isn't getting enough attention, you're at the end of your rope in every way imaginable, and you try spanking said toddler once or twice. My real world parenting has confirmed what I have read in the many books and magazines... spanking does more harm than good. So, much to Landon's displeasure (and more than a little of my own guilt for striking my child), Mason has been spanked a handful of times, all in the first 6 months of his sister's life when I was a veritable crazy person. In the time since, I have pulled out the spanking threat once or twice with no real intent to follow through, which is another big parenting no-no, but this night was already pretty out of control. This is the end of my PSA on spanking. Now back to previously scheduled story...
This is the part where I yell, "GET IN BED OR I'M GONNA SPANK YOUR BUTT!" Yikes, I've really lost it. That just really came out of my mouth. I know I'm not going to spank his butt. I don't want to spank his butt ever again. Still, it's been said and (fortunately) he backs down a little (I still feel all guilty for even saying it).
"I WANT DAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAADYYYYYY."
"You know what, Mason? So do I. I want Daddy too." And believe me, I wasn't just saying it. Somehow, us both wishing Dad was home already found us some common ground and got Mason to calm down enough for me to get Rissa bathed and out of the bath. Mason allowed me to put him into his jammies and tuck him into bed. I got Rissa ready and put her to bed too. It was just a few minutes past 7, but I was beat. I was plum tuckered out and wondering whether I was in the right line of work. Clearly, I must be doing something wrong to have such a gigantic freak out episode, right?

Jump ahead to today. Mason is sick and home from school for the day for some rest. Rissa is still acting a little cranky (I think she must either be sick or cutting her 2 year old molars, but I'm not sure yet). I put Marissa down for her morning nap and let Mason finish watching Sesame Street. After it's over, he came and got me. I convinced him to lay down and rest, but he wanted me to come with him. So, we climb into his bed and crawl all the way under the covers. We laugh a little. We snug a little. We decide his bed and his covers are too small for our needs and move into my bed. More snugging and laughing occurs. We talk about hibernating and how cool it would be to sleep for three months (okay, mostly I talk about how cool it would be to do that). Finally, we're both quiet, laying together under the heavy down comforter, and I realize I am in the right line of work after all.
If I were a lawyer, I wouldn't be in bed with my sick little boy at 11:30 am snugging and making him feel better. If I were a doctor, I wouldn't be creating these sorts of memories with my kids every day. If I were anything other than a mom right now, my kids would be spending their waking hours with someone I am paying to do these things that I really would prefer to do myself. And for that, I am truly grateful. I am grateful that I get to be the one raising my kids, during the fun times and the tough. I am grateful that we are fortunate enough financially to allow me this opportunity, and I am grateful that I have a spouse who supports me in every way to be home raising my own kids.

Today is Easy

About a month ago, we had our first rain of the season. It didn't roll in all easy and nice. Nope. The rainy season started with a freaking monsoon (well, at least it seemed monsoon-ish to me). The storm we got was the end of what WAS a typhoon while the system was over the Philippines. It rained good and hard for a solid 24 hours. It made fantastic puddles that we enjoyed for days, but it also brought a less welcome surprise . . . a surprise which came in the form of mold.

It actually got worse than this, but my whole itchy scalp thing prevented me from getting more photos.

Now, I generally try not to completely freak out about things. I try, but I don't always succeed. I have seen shows about "toxic mold", and I even knew a family who had a toxic mold invade their home and cause some medical issues for the whole family. So there I was, with a moldy wall, trying not to freak out. I made the excellent choice to post the picture on my Facebook page with the caption, "This worries me". Within minutes, a bunch of my friends all respond with comments that do nothing to assuage my fears. (Lesson learned: Facebook friends may not be the best source of comfort OR factual information).
Really long story made short: our landlord responded pretty well, got their insurance right on top of things, and then we played the get this problem fixed game. That involved a lot of strangers coming to my house (insurance adjusters, environmental scientists, mold abatement pros, roofers, etc) over the period of several weeks, getting a new roof put on, having the mold removed, and now finally, getting a new, mold-free wall. We still need to let the texture dry, hang trim, and repaint, but the end is very much in sight.
So today, it's easy for me to feel grateful. I'm grateful that my landlord did their best to get this resolved quickly and painlessly. I'm grateful that the mold wasn't of the crazy "toxic" variety, and that we didn't have to burn all our stuff for fear it was infected with toxic spores. I'm grateful that all the strangers that have been in and out of my house have been friendly and honest and not weird molesters or rapists (see how I try not to freak out about stuff?). I'm grateful that we got a brand-spanking new roof out of the deal. I'm grateful that I was able to get the mold abatement crew to test the whole house for mold (no mold anywhere else... hooray!) and for the peace of mind that has brought me. And I'm really grateful today that we have a new, mold-free wall in our family room.
Today is easy. We're mold free and all put back together!

Of All the Blessings In My Life...

Perhaps the one I am most grateful for is my husband, Landon: I know that this blog is rather full of posts about why being married to Landon is a huge blessing in my life, but I do not think one can sing the praises of one's spouse too much. To honor my amazing husband today, the 29th celebration of his birth, I write this post.

I think my favorite thing about Landon is his dedication to family, particularly to his children. Since I have known Landon (we're at about 13 years now), the primary driving force in the decisions he makes and the life he leads is being a good father. Most everything he has done up to this point in his life has been to make sure he would one day be able to provide a good, stable, happy, worry-free life for his children, from the women he dated to the career he chose. Landon has always operated from a place of concern for how it might one day affect his family. As a woman who puts family at the very top of her priority list, it was hard not to fall deeply in love with a man so focused and dedicated to the children he would one day have.
While Landon is focused and driven and dedicated, he doesn't take himself too seriously. Although he is confident in his intelligence and abilities (and we all know how sexy confidence can be), he is humble about his achievements and self-deprecating in his sense of humor. He isn't one to get caught up in self-pity or selfishness, and doesn't have a lot of patience with those things in others. Instead, Landon chooses to laugh and have fun and enjoy his life. Lots of Landon's time is spent on play and tickles and silliness. And although Landon can be a bit cynical about the world, he isn't pessimistic. He looks to the future with hope and a sincere desire for happiness through gratitude for the many blessings in his life. And Landon can make me laugh like no other person on this earth.
Last night, on our way home from the Cal/ASU football game, I told Landon that I am incredibly lucky to be his wife. He asked me why. I don't remember all the things I listed, but it was a long list, and I was being absolutely sincere in my praise of my husband. He is an amazing man. I was sure lucky the day I convinced him that he should marry me, and luckier every day since.
Happy Birthday, love. I look forward to growing old with you. Congratulations on your 29th birthday, and here's to many, many more to come!

Smiles All Around

Today started rough. Mason woke me up way before I was ready. After spending all morning moving furniture and preparing the house to be torn apart during the mold abatement process, the mold crew arrived to let me know it would not be safe to start their work until the roofers were finished replacing the roof (not to mention the irritation I was already experiencing with the roofers for not being finished yet). I felt all annoyed and grouchy, but then I decided to be happy that we wouldn't have plastic up over the weekend as planned and to enjoy my day.
I had planned on needing to be out of the house as much as possible since there were supposed to be guys tearing moldy walls and ceilings out of my house, and so I had set up a playdate with my beautiful sister Caitlin and her fantastic kiddos. I packed a nice little lunch, surprised The Dude early with an early pick up from school and headed up to a great little park about halfway between where we live and my sister's house. Mase declared the surprise "Great!" and we set out to enjoy the beautiful day with which we had been blessed.
As Mase, Rissa and I ate dinner this evening, I realized I felt really happy. Content. Peaceful. Lately, by dinner time, I have not been feeling any of those things. I've mostly been feeling frustrated and tired and just plain finished. And frazzled. I often feel frazzled at the end of the day.
Feeling these good feelings got me thinking about how my choice earlier in the day to be happy about the situation that was frustrating me helped to reshape the day I would eventually have. It certainly helped that I got some fresh air, my kids played hard and had fun, and I got to spend time with some of my most favorite people in the world, but really, that small, easy choice shaped the way I would feel for the rest of the day. And that has kept me smiling all evening.

The Most Wonderful Time of the Year

I love the fall. I say that a lot because I really love it a lot. I don't think I need to wax poetic about the many reasons why autumn is such a great time of year. I think I'll let some photos do the 'splainin' for me.

Oh my stinkin' heck. I don't think it gets much cuter than this!

It's not every day you get to enjoy a (double) rainbow.

I taught Mason to love puddle jumping years ago. It never gets old. :)

Mason and I introduced Marissa to the joys of puddle jumping this year. So. Much. Fun.

Finding the Blessing

The nature of Landon's job is such that sometimes he is crazy busy. As a litigator, he generally works more than the average Joe, but sometimes he works completely insane hours. Like seriously mind-numbing amounts of work in short periods of time. On one case, he seriously worked several 22 hour days. I can't even imagine.
Anyhow, since I'm really good at self-pity and not always the best at keeping perspective, I often find myself feeling really resentful of Landon's job when he is in the middle of these crazy busy stretches. I know he's stressed out, so I try to keep it to myself, but I know it spills over into everything I do. Like maybe I find myself shouting at my baby for crying a lot. Everyone knows how helpful it is to shout at a baby, "I'm finished with you crying all day!" Totally shuts them up every time. Really, it's incredibly useful.
Landon has been working a lot lately, regularly billing ten or more hours a day (which generally translates into working 13-14 hours a day since not every minute you work equals billable hours). In the past, Mason has been a little extra sensitive when his dad has been working a lot, but I don't think he's ever made the conscious connection that he's feeling a little sad and lonesome because his dad hasn't been home as much. In the last few weeks, Mason has definitely made the connection. He misses his dad and he is struggling with not getting to see him much. And it breaks my heart for the little dude.
A couple of weeks ago, Mason started crying in the middle of class. His teacher told me he cried for a good 45 minutes, and told her that he really missed his dad. Last night, when I offered snugs before bed, Mason told me he didn't want my snugs. He said, "I only want Dad's snugs. I only love Dad." So that felt good. I'm not taking it personally. I know the kid loves me every bit as much as he loves his dad, but it still makes me feel sad because I know he's trying to make sense of something that I clearly don't even really get.
In an effort to find the blessing in the middle of our small personal struggle with not getting to see Landon as much as we all would like, I am writing today.
An obvious blessing is that with every hour Landon bills, he gets a bigger bonus at the end of the year. That will clearly be a blessing for the whole family to enjoy come January.
Landon's absence gives me more time to strengthen my bond with my children, and encourage the two to bond with each other as well.
Landon's absence teaches me to be more self-sufficient and independent, which are important traits I clearly need to work on more.
Landon's absence means that I expect Mason to also be more self-sufficient and independent, also good things for him to practice.
Landon's absence also means that I expect Mason to help me out more around the house and with his sister, teaching him responsibility and leadership.
Landon's absence means job security.
I choose to be grateful today for the long hours Landon is working because it means I am learning and teaching and growing, and it means that my children have a roof over their heads and food in their tummies. It means that we have stable income and can continue to plan for our future and our children's futures.

My Little Hard Worker

Mason recently started his first ever sports season. We signed him up for soccer because he seemed interested when we attended Corinne's games the last two years. The season officially began three weeks ago, and it has been incredibly adorable to see my son figuring out how "organized" sports work.
Thanks to his parents, Mason is not the biggest or the fastest kid out there. He isn't the most aggressive or the most athletic. I would rate him as above average in all those categories (well, except maybe the aggressive thing), but if he wants to be an athlete, he is going to have to work at it. And I'm proud to announce that is exactly what he is doing.
At yesterday's game, Mason ran hard the whole time. He never stopped running, up and down the field, after the ball. When he fell down, he jumped back up and started running again. When the much larger child from the other team stole the ball from Mason or his teammates, Mason was almost always the first kid back on the ball, playing defense and keeping up as best as he could. But the thing that I think impressed me the most was when coach asked who needed a break, Mason was THE ONLY kid who did not raise his hand. It was 100 plus degrees yesterday, and Mason is still not 100% after a pretty nasty cold he had last week. His team only had 1 extra player, so subs were very limited. Mason never came out of the game. He didn't want to. He wanted to keep playing, keep running, keep working hard. At the end of the game, Mason had at least 9 goals (I wasn't keeping track since they don't keep score, and I'm trying really hard to keep the focus on learning and getting better), but probably 10 or 11. However, even if Mason had scored zero goals, I don't think I would feel any less proud.
Seeing him turn around after scoring a goal or saving a goal for his team, smiling with a clear sense of pride and accomplishment, is an amazing feeling as Mason's mom. I can't wait for him to face and overcome more obstacles in the future so he can know for himself what I already know -- that he is an amazing little person with huge potential for greatness, and that if he commits himself to working hard for what he wants, there isn't anything he won't be able to accomplish. And that I couldn't be more proud or more grateful for the opportunity to be his mom.

The Good in the Bad

Yesterday was not my favorite day. There, that's the nicest way I've figured out how to communicate that idea. Not my favorite. Today, I'm going to look for the good in what was not my favorite day.

The Good:
Both of my kids will choose fresh fruit over fast food, even french fries (although they'll eat those second).
I respond quickly and correctly in crisis situations.
My first aid training is still ingrained in my mind even without a refresher for nearly 3 years.
Both of my kids are alive and well.
Mason has a tremendous amount of empathy for his baby sister.
We didn't have to go to the hospital.
Marissa is quick to forget fairly scary events.

After a long, not so terrific day, I totally provided dinner hitting up the drive thru at our local fast food restaurant. To assuage my guilt at providing such a less-than-stellar meal, I also washed some fresh fruit and set it out for us to eat. Included in this fresh fruit platter were some rather large grapes. Up until last night, Marissa had never choked on anything. She's a good chewer. I decided a couple of weeks ago that it was probably okay not to cut her grapes any more, so long as they were being eaten under direct adult supervision. Last night fell into that category since I was there eating with the kids.
About half-way through the grapes, Marissa starts to choke. I can clearly see her in my mind's eye, with panic across her face. No noises, no breath. Her little body was trying to get that grape out. I jumped up, unbuckled her from her booster seat, and performed the baby heimlich maneuver . The grape came out after just a couple of back blows, and all was well. Well, except the part where Marissa was really upset about the fact that her mom just flipped her upside down and hit her on the back pretty hard. And Mason was freaking out because his mom just appeared to assault his baby sister. Everything was perfect except those two things. Oh, and the part where I was crying with relief.
So, I sat with both my babies on my lap, all of us crying for one reason or another. Then, once I explained to Mason what happened and why it was important for me to help Marissa like I did, we all calmed down a bit and finished our tremendously healthy dinner. Marissa resumed eating grapes, almost immediately, although they had been cut into quarters. Mason declared himself the best eater ever. I scarfed down more calories than I want to admit. And all really was well with us. Thank goodness.

Autumn is Here!

Our family at the pumpkin patch.

Today is officially the first day of Autumn. Once upon a time, summer was my favorite time of year. I think this was due mainly to the fact that I loved to swim when I was growing up. I still love to swim, but not like when I was a kid. Anyhow, since I moved out of Sacramento and became a wimp regarding the really hot summers we have here, I have a new favorite season: Autumn.
I love everything about the fall. I love the leaves changing color. I love the weather growing cooler and crisp. I love the rain returning to our thirsty corner of the world, and how it makes the world smell fresh again. I love the return of Halloween and Thanksgiving and all of the awesomeness those holidays bring. I officially *heart* Autumn!

Even though there is absolutely nothing going on in my neck of the woods that feels like the fall (e.g. the high for today is supposed to be an even 100 degrees, yikes!), I would like to share some of my favorite fall photos from last year...

Isn't he the sweetest?


Those lashes of hers are stunning!


His little smile makes my day... every time.

As the seasons change, I find my family in good health and good spirits. I continue to be blessed in so many ways, and I feel particularly grateful for our new home. I look forward to enjoying all the seasons with my friends and family here for years to come!

A Trusty Mechanic

Landon is very intelligent and incredibly talented in many ways. He is not, however, a "car guy". I think I probably know more about cars than he, which isn't saying much. And so, I'm really grateful that my sister married a very capable mechanic.
People are always looking for a good mechanic... one who does good work and is trustworthy. We Americans spend so much of our time in the car, and rely on them so heavily to accomplish so many daily tasks, that it makes sense that we are all constantly on the lookout for a reliable, honest mechanic. I happen to be incredibly fortunate to be related to one! How great is that?
Thanks, James at Ponderosa Auto Express for taking care of my family, and making sure that our cars are well-tuned and safe. :)

The Beach

Once a month, my family (all 32 or so of us that still live 'round these parts) get together for what we call "Family Dinner". Yes, it happens once a month. People are always amazed at the frequency of our gatherings. Anyhow, usually, family dinner is at my parents' house since they specifically designed their home to be suitable for hosting 30+ people. Sometimes, we get bored or hot or someone has something else planned, and we do our dinner somewhere other than Seventh Heaven (my parents' house). My beautiful sister, Shannon, has been pushing to experiment with more adventurous dinner locations. This month, she planned a trip to the Marin Headlands for our dinner on Labor Day.
Other than the traffic, due in part to the fact it was the last holiday of the summer and in part to the fact that the Bay Bridge was closed for the weekend (lame), it was a great day. Shannon reserved a spot on Kirby Cove, which literally looks back toward the Golden Gate Bridge and San Francisco. It is a beautiful location, and we were pleased to be at the "beach" (I put it in quotes since the beach in Northern California is not really what most people think of when you say "beach" -- it's cold and windy and not ideal for swimming).It was fun to watch the kids play in the water, as all of us adults secretly shivered on their behalf, and to enjoy the beauty around us. As always, it was great to spend some time with my family -- to reconnect and remember how blessed we are to have each other. Mason found some shells to help kick start his shell garden (what is a shell garden?), and Marissa took a nap in my arms. I am blessed. I live in a beautiful place. I have a beautiful family. I am healthy and largely able to live my life as I wish. I am grateful for my family, especially that we all share the same level of love and commitment to each other. The older I get, the more I realize how unique our family is in our desire to be with each other and to take care of each other. I am grateful for this closeness and this love. It is a daily blessing in my life.

Awesome Kiddos

I have two awesome kids. I mean really terrific, wonderful, fun kids. I don't know why I was so blessed to get these particular children, but I sure am happy that I was.
Let's start with my oldest.Mason is the sweetest, most kind brother I've ever known (which is saying something because my brother Brandon is right up there with the best). He truly loves his baby sister and looks out for her all the time. People often ask if there were any jealousy issues with him when his sister came along, and I can honestly say there were not and there still have never been. He's always adored her and wanted to make sure that she was okay at all times. He enjoys entertaining her, looking after her, and playing with her. He makes up little games for them to play together, which she absolutely loves, and reads books to her. He comforts her when she is upset. He takes pride in teaching her how to share and take turns, and he tells me often that when it is time for her to learn how to use the potty, it will be his job to teach her. He genuinely looks forward to the opportunity to teach her new things and help her learn. Mason is just an exceptional big brother and a true blessing in the lives of each of his family members.Marissa is an amazing little girl. She is determined and independent and focused. Marissa has never been the kind of kid that you can distract from her goal, which can be frustrating as a parent, but I have to admit I admire her for it. She is so playful and fun, and she adores being with her big brother. I really enjoy watching her figure things out, and she figures things out on her own all the time. She has already taught herself to put on her clothes and shoes, something her brother had to be taught at a much later age. Marissa also loves to draw, and she amazes me all the time with how controlled and deliberate she already is with a pencil. Something else I really love about Marissa is how straightforward she is. When she is tired, she comes to me and says "sleep" or "nap", and we go do the bedtime thing. It's amazing.
I view motherhood as my primary job (which can be frustrating as all hell for Landon), and it is something I work very hard at. I try to be thoughtful and informed in the choices I make as a mother, but at the end of the day, I really just think that I was blessed with wonderful children. I feel so privileged to have the opportunity to help them learn and grow, and to help shape the people they will become. I hope that I will do a good job, and that my children will always love me, warts and all.

Five Years

The last couple of months have been marked with some serious marital discord in my extended family. It hurts to watch people you love struggle with hard choices and pain, and be able to only offer your support and love. I am a "fixer". I'm generally not the kind of person who is seeking sympathy when something is wrong. I'm the kind of person who wants to know how to make it better. When it comes to marriage and divorce, however, there is often no way to fix things. While I do not doubt that divorce is sometimes the only way to make a less than ideal situation better, I do not generally see it as a "solution", particularly when there are children involved. I sincerely hope that I am never in the position where divorce looks like my best option.
I've said this before in this blog, but I'm going to say it again. Marriage is hard. Marriage is work. Marriage is something that requires a huge amount of effort and respect and commitment from both parties. Even under the best, most ideal of circumstances, everyone I have ever talked to about marriage says that it can often be anything but a walk in the park. In spite of all that, though, a good marriage can be one of the most rewarding relationships one can hope to have. A good marriage is very, extremely worth the effort and the struggle and the hard times.
Finding words to describe the true nature of my marriage is difficult. Landon is much, much more than my companion or my spouse. He is my closest, most dear friend. He loves me and understands me in a way that no one else does. He trusts me with the most important task a person could possible trust another with in raising his children. All of his efforts and his focus in life is on giving me and our children a good life. He wants nothing more than for me to be truly happy.
In just over a week, Landon and I will be celebrating our fifth wedding anniversary. While that seems like such a long time at this point in my life, I hope that it is just a small drop in the bucket of our lives together. I know how truly lucky I am to have found Landon, and how lucky we are to have a good marriage. I know how lucky we both are to have found someone with the same level of commitment and dedication to each other and to our family as we found in each other.
I am so grateful for the 5 years I have had with my husband, Landon, and I hope that it is still just the beginning of a long, happy road together.

Life is Good

I started blogging for a few reasons. For one, I have always wanted to journal, but I have never done so consistently. I thought that since I waste so much time online as it is, I may as well turn that time into something productive-ish. Another reason I wanted to write a blog was to try to force myself to see the blessings in my life. Something I firmly believe is that living with gratitude in your heart will make you a happier person. Who doesn't want to be happy, right? Building on that idea, I wasn't feeling particularly happy at the junction in my life when I started this blog, so I was also trying to teach myself how to be a happy person.
There have been a lot of ups and downs in terms of how often I post to this blog since I started over a year ago. There was a stretch there where I was averaging 1.5-2 posts a week, and that made me feel like I finally found a consistent way to journal. It was also helping me to think about the blessings in my life, if only so I would have something to write about later. And I really was starting to feel happier from day to day. All of this is awesome. Really awesome.
The side effect of all this happiness is that I haven't been struggling as much. I was generally using my blog as a forum to find blessings in the struggles, but I just haven't been struggling. Less struggling has meant fewer posts, which is fine.
Today I want to express my gratitude for the opportunity to remember my blessings and therefore be happy this blog has afforded me. I'm glad I started it and I am grateful that it has been the tool I had hoped it would be. I am grateful for the happiness I am experiencing more regularly in my life, and the blessings that affords me and my family.
Life is good.

Having a Cold when it is 103 Degrees Outside

I'd really like to complain today since I feel all craptacular, but I'm not going to (well, beyond what I already just wrote).
Marissa woke up with a runny nose this weekend. I'm not sure where she got it, but she's got a little cold going on. She has since given it to me. Yesterday, I sat on the couch trying to rest and ignore the fact that my head hurt real bad. When I picked Mason up at 2:30, he said, "I wish Dad could be home." I agreed with the sentiment, and I then decided it couldn't hurt to call Dad on the phone to see if he could come home. I dropped Lando a line and invited him to return home so I could sleep (doesn't that sound like so much fun???). He looked around and decided that he could, in fact, come home early.
Landon arrived just as I was getting the kids into bed for their naps. He immediately took over what I was doing and told me to get in bed. When he finished, he came to my bedside and asked if he could do/retrieve anything to help me feel better. Then he encouraged me to sleep.
And sleep I did. From about 3 until nearly 8, I slept. I woke up feeling a little guilty about how long I'd been asleep. Landon assured me that it wasn't a problem -- he came home to let me rest. He then got the kiddos ready for bed and did the bedtime routine (well, minus the nursing of Rissa which he, regrettably, can't do).
Today, I'm feeling better -- not perfect but better -- thanks to Landon leaving work and letting me rest all afternoon and into the evening. I am so, so lucky to have Landon. He's a wonderful husband and father, and a great man too.
Thanks Lando for taking such good care of me!

BFF's and all that

I have a friend. A really great friend. She has been my friend since we were in Kindergarten. We grew up together, all the way through, and she is still my friend (which is really saying something considering what an ass I can be). I don't want to sound like a 13 year old or anything, but she really is my best friend forever. I am so, so lucky that she is my friend.
Sometimes, I let my life get in the way of being a good friend, which is really lame. I know it's lame, but I still let it happen from time to time. For some reason, my friend understands this about me and loves me anyway. I think her ability to forgive me for my flakiness is a (the?) primary reason we are still friends after all these years. My friend has always been a better friend to me than I deserve, which is why I will always, always love her, no matter what.
Lara Shepard. You are great. You are smart. You are incredibly funny. You are really, really fun to be with. You are ambitious. You are kind. You are talented. You are beautiful. You are an exceptional friend. I admire the woman you are, and I am so very grateful that you are my friend. My best friend.

Our New Home

So we moved last weekend. And I am so, so happy with our new home. I am grateful that we found it, that we went with our gut instinct and held off on committing to the other house we were considering, and that we are now living here. I am grateful for our new back yard, complete with vegetable garden and a lawn for the kiddos. I am grateful for the huge increase in living space, including an entire room for which we have no furniture. I am grateful that Landon and I have been able to come to compromise on the new spaces and the way in which they will be used. I am grateful for my new, much larger kitchen and all the empty cupboard space. I am grateful to not be sharing any walls with people other than my own family. I am grateful for my garage and being able to park out of the hot Sacramento sun. I will soon be grateful for my garage and being able to park out of the winter rain. : ) I am grateful for the big soaking tub in the master bedroom where Landon loves to take baths (he's already taken 3 since Friday!). I am grateful for our "no kids allowed" room where I can craft without having to worry about getting everything out and then put everything away before the kids can get to it. I am grateful for our playroom and that Landon was able to convince me that using the space as a playroom was the right thing.
I'm so excited and so happy and so grateful for our new home!

A Good Man...

... is exactly what I have found in my husband. A good man. A great husband. An amazing father. Boy, am I lucky!
I am really good at taking photos regularly of my kids, but not as great at getting out the video camera. That one happens in bursts generally, and I am usually inspired by watching my great husband be an amazing father. The other day, Landon was playing with our kids. He was hiding under a blanket and letting them "find" him. He was also being a monster(?), roaring every time the kids discovered him again. They were clearly loving every minute of it. So I sneaked upstairs to get the camera and hid on the landing, capturing the play in (momentary) secret.
And while I like to think that capturing these moments on dvd is about preserving memories for my children, I'm going to be more honest with myself and you for a minute. It's really about me falling in love with my husband all over again. It's really me remembering why I held onto that man tenaciously through many growing pains, fights and separations. It's really me appreciating the heck out of this very good man I have the privilege of being married to.
Much to Landon's chagrin, I often find myself telling him how sexy I think he is while I am recording him and the kids. I know he's worried about the comments "messing up" these memories we're preserving for the kids, but really, I think it's important for our kids to know how much we love each other and how much we appreciate each other (bodies and all). My kids will understand, one day, that the physical aspect of a marriage is important too, and hopefully they will feel similarly attracted to their spouses.
And so today, I am grateful for a good man. A great man. An amazing, mind-bogglingly sexy man.

keeping perspective

Sometimes it feels like I'm caught in a storm, and there is water coming at me from all directions. I can't see where to go to get out of the rain. I feel lost, confused and a little scared. Sometimes I feel overwhelmed by how small and insignificant I am. I feel entirely incapable of the tasks that lay ahead, waiting for me to figure out how to tackle them. Sometimes I feel like I've sat down to an elephant for breakfast. And lunch. And dinner. 'Cause that elephant ain't gonna eat itself. And then I remember my mom telling me that the only way to eat an elephant is one bite at a time.
Maybe I am unique in my tendency to feel overwhelmed by life. I like to believe that I'm not, but I guess I don't really know for sure. The fact of the matter is, though, I am often feeling overwhelmed. And when I feel overwhelmed by life, my tendency is not to go out and take on the day. My tendency is leaning more towards taking a nap. Mess around on the computer. Hide. And, as I already mentioned, those elephants just don't eat themselves. So it's important for me to keep perspective.
It's important for me to remember that I'm blessed. Lucky. In my marriage. In my children. In my family and friends. In my finances. In my place of residence. In my home country. In nearly every imaginable way, I am incredibly lucky to be who I am. And while there is much yet for me to learn, ways I need to grow, the only way to do it is one small step at a time.
Perhaps I'll never be the kind of person who is excited by challenges or motivated by obstacles, but I know I can finish an elephant if I take it one bite at a time.

So Much Fun!

I just got home from my weekend getaway a couple of hours ago. It was so much fun! Every time I have the opportunity to spend some time with my oldest friend, Lara, I remember why our friendship has lasted so long. She's such an amazing girl! I love her. : )
I am grateful today for old friends and new adventures. And especially for my friend Lara. Thanks for your generosity, your hospitality and understanding. I'm incredibly lucky that I count you among my closest friends!

Still Figuring Things Out

Being married is hard. It is hard to get along with someone who necessarily has different ideas, different priorities, different emotional responses... someone who just isn't you, no matter how similar or well-suited you may be for each other. The thing is, I'm starting to think that it isn't one of those things that you eventually have all figured out. I'm starting to think that being married is just one of those things that you will always have to work at for ever and ever (or at least as long as you wish to stay married).
My parents are a shining example of how you have to keep working at staying married. My mom and dad were married in September of 1967, nearly 42 years ago. Sometimes I wonder what made them think they should get married to each other, they are that different in nearly every way imaginable, but they did and they have made it work. Despite different tastes in everything from entertainment, to travel, to religion, and so on, their marriage has endured. They made it work through raising 7 kids, several of whom were particularly difficult to raise. They made it work through being apart for extended periods of time (since my dad was a traveling salesman for over 35 years). They made it work through difficult financial times. And they are making it work through raising a pair of their grandchildren. I have often thought that maybe they have had to work harder at staying married than other people who seem to be more similar, but the longer I'm married, the more I think it's hard work for everyone.
Landon and I are pretty opposite from my parents in terms of similarities. Although we have plenty of differences, Landon and I are pretty similar and, I think anyway, very well suited for each other. However, even after nearly 11 years of being together, we are still figuring things out . . . still making adjustments and still working hard at staying married. We still sometimes have fights. We still sometimes fail to anticipate how our words or actions might affect the other and end up with hurt feelings and damaged egos. And while we have less of these unpleasant times than we used to, I don't know that we are ever going to stop them completely.
So, in an effort today to mend some hurt feelings and repair our damaged egos, I want to express my sincere and deep gratitude for my husband. It's healing for both of us.
I appreciate Landon for everything he is. I am grateful for his great intelligence and how it helps guide me in making decisions and figuring out the world around me. I am grateful for his tender heart and how it helps me see people around me with greater understanding and sympathy. I am grateful for his selflessness and how it helps me to be a better mother, a better friend, a better daughter and a better person. I am grateful for his thoughtfulness and how it helps me to feel loved. I am grateful for his commitment to our family and how it helps me endure even the most difficult parts of being a mom and raising a family. I am grateful for his sense of humor and how it helps me to enjoy life and take things just a little less seriously. I am grateful for his confidence and how it helps me to continue working on being a better woman, wife, mother. Most of all, I am grateful that Landon loves me for me, even though I often make that a rather difficult task.
Thank you, Landon. I love you. IEU.

The End of an Era

In preparation for my impending weekend getaway to Seattle in a few days, I have been weaning the girl for about a month now. Since she turned one, I have made many starts on this road, only to be thwarted by yet another illness . . . ear infection here, flu there, etc. So, there we were at 16 months still nursing 4-6 times a day. You wanna know a little secret? I love it and don't really want to stop.
Back when the Rissa was still a newborn, she had the flux. She had a mean, nasty flux that was apparently triggered by everything I ate. After a few weeks of sleep being completely replaced with screaming/vomiting baby, I decided to go on an elimination diet. I printed a list of the most common reflux-triggering foods and cut them all from my diet. It was a very, very long list of foods that I pretty much ate every day, including apples, citrus, tomatoes, dairy, green vegetables generally, etc. So, these items were banned and Marissa was happy(er) for a few days. She was still pretty fussy, but we both were able to sleep. Then I started trying to introduce items, one at a time, back into my diet. Literally every item I tried caused another bout of the flux, which was equivalent to a baby who cried for 6+ hours a day. After item 5 or 6 yielded the same results as all others before it, I decided I preferred sleeping to having variety in my diet.
Now, I am a woman who enjoys food. I am happy to spend generous amounts of our budget on good food, and I LOVE baking. This diet was hard on me. I felt really deprived and missed eating the foods I love to eat tremendously, especially considering that I had already been on a very modified diet during my pregnancy because I had really high blood pressure and later preeclampsia. I was stressed out and struggling with my commitment to breastfeed, but I did lose the baby weight in a hurry. Anyhow, after reading a lot about the flux in babies, I determined that what I was doing was really the best option for my baby and myself, and decided to commit to six months of breastfeeding. If at six months, I still couldn't eat anything in order to continue nursing, I would instead put her on formula and go back to eating normally. So, at five months, I started trying some of the items previously banned from my diet. She responded beautifully, and we both finally started enjoying breastfeeding without any constraints. Whew!
Then suddenly, around 9 months, Marissa decided that biting my nipples was awesome and really, really fun. I didn't really know what to do about it... Mason had bit me once; I yelled, "OUCH!" which made him cry, and he never bit me again. That particular action yielded a very different response in my daughter, however. When I yelled, "OUCH!" this time, she laughed and laughed. In my mind, it seemed almost to be a demonic little laugh. I asked around for advice, and none of it worked. I even got so desperate that I once bit her back (gently, on her finger), which again yielded laughter out of this baby who, by this time, I was certain was the devil's spawn. Again, I found myself really struggling with breastfeeding this baby. I wanted to continue until she was at least a year old, like doctors recommend, but the injuries to my nipples were becoming bigger and more painful. I felt really conflicted about the idea of quitting at that point particularly because I had enjoyed breastfeeding Mason so much. The fact that Marissa and I just couldn't seem to get it right together made me feel really sad. I decided to keep at it, partially from guilt and partially from determination, and decided to just keep pulling her from the breast and firmly telling her, "No biting!" when ever she bit me. After about a week of this consistent response, she stopped laughing and started crying when ever this exchange occurred. Eventually, she stopped biting me. We were happily nursing again. Yay!
So fast forward to the present... I am due this week to finish weaning my baby, and I just can't get myself to feel good about it. My logical mind is looking at all the benefits of Marissa and I not being tied together by my breasts, but I just feel sad about being finished. I've put so much effort, including my own blood, made so many sacrifices to get this right. Now it's coming to an end. Marissa and I figured it all out and really found our groove; we have really enjoyed our time together. Once we're finished, it really feels like the end of an era for me as a mother. The complete dependence on me and only me in this one small area will be finished and my baby will be a little less of a baby and a little more of a big girl. And that makes me feel a little sorrowful.
I don't know. Maybe it's because I know there are no more babies in my future. No more breastfeeding and the indescribable closeness it brings for a mother and her baby. The feelings of peace and love. The time to be quiet and reflect. The time to watch your baby be nourished by the miracle of your body producing a tailor-made food just for your unique child. The time, for the first time in my life, to be really amazed and impressed with the things my body is capable of doing.
So, even though it makes me really sad and I am crying while I type this, I choose today to be grateful for the fact that I was able to breastfeed my babies. I am grateful that I was able to give them a boost in their health, their development, and their intelligence with something as simple as feeding them at my breast while they were little. I am grateful for the many benefits, some of which I am sure are still unknown or otherwise not fully understood, that breastfeeding has given to me and my children. I am grateful for the time it gave us together, to bond and grow our love and appreciation for each other. I am grateful that even though it took a lot of work to figure it out with both babies, I had the support of my husband and doctors and family to get it right. I am grateful that I made the commitment and stuck to it even though it was difficult and sometimes even a little painful. I will always remember the time I spent nursing my two children with incredible fondness and memories filled with love.

April hasn't been a great blog month

So, I've been trying to blog a couple of times a week, on average, but April has pretty much been a craptastic month for me blog-wise. I know I'm not here to bitch, so I'm not going to make excuses for myself. I've lost perspective and haven't made time for something that I know I am benefiting from.
Tonight, I want to talk a little about the men in my life.
My main man is Landon. I think Landon and I knew pretty early on in our relationship that we were meant to be together. We actually talked about getting married after only dating for a month or so. Even though we knew that was a pretty ridiculous idea at that point, and went through a great deal of growing pains together for the six years we dated before getting married, I think we both knew that we were going to spend our lives together. The reason I knew this, I think, was because Landon got to see me at my absolute worse from the very beginning of our relationship and he loved me anyway. I remember once asking him if he loved me. When he said he did, I said, "Good. You're stupid. Let's get married." But he wasn't stupid then and he isn't stupid now. Despite my many flaws, he could see past it all and love me for who I am. Thank goodness he can because there are a whole lot of flaws to see through.
Landon is hard on himself because he knows what he is capable of. He is similarly hard on me. He doesn't pull punches and he doesn't make nice. . . he tells it like it is regardless of who is there to hear it. These traits of Landon have often caused my family to be concerned about the way Landon treats me. The thing is, though, he knows what I am capable of and isn't interested in the many excuses I have readily available to explain why I am just not there yet (or might never be there). In all honesty, the woman I am today is largely due to Landon pushing me to become a better version of myself. It's been difficult and sometimes painful to push through the bs, but I am so grateful that he never gave up on me even though I have often given up on myself. I am incredibly lucky to have a man like Landon for my spouse.
The other man in my life is still a little man. A little dude, as Landon and I like to call him. His name is Mason, and he just turned four. Being Mason's mom is often difficult. I am pretty sure that he is already smarter than I, which is saying something because I'm smarter than most people I know. Unfortunately, he doesn't know nearly as much as he thinks he does. I have no idea where he would get this innate certainty of his own abilities and knowledge (neither of his parents are anything like that), but man, it sure can be frustrating!
Right now, Mason is learning how to read. He really wants to just memorize words, but it is important for him to do it the proper way, building on letter sounds then phonemes and then onto words. A couple of weeks ago, I was trying to teach him how to read a simple book. We were frustrating each other, and I told him that he's only three and doesn't know everything yet. His response? "Being three means that you are really good at books, and also that you know everything." He then added that being four means that too (he knew he would be four soon, so he needed to cover that base). Boy, did that make me giggle. I couldn't contain it!
Mason is difficult, not because he is a brat or because he isn't a nice boy. He's difficult because he's just so danged smart and curious and busy. And although I often feel frustrated by something or another, I need to remember what a blessing it is that he is part of my life. Mason is so funny, usually on purpose even. He is incredibly tender and kind-hearted and sensitive. Even though he can be rather stubborn, he really wants to please me and make me happy. He tells me all the time that he loves me and wants to be with me. He's an amazing boy, and I am beyond lucky that I get to be his mom.
The men in my life are a great blessing. I'm so glad they came to be in my family!

Tragedy Strikes

On the evening of Easter Sunday, I sat down to check my email. I had one from one of my Redwood City mom friends, and I was happy to see her name in the list. I was happy until I saw the subject line: (Forwarded with permission from Allison T) I have cancer.
My heart stopped. Allison T. Another mommy friend. Has cancer. I opened it up immediately, skipping the other two messages that were above it. My friend, Fleur, had prefaced the forwarded message briefly, but I skipped that part and got busy reading the details that Allison had sent out to the parents at her daughter's preschool co-op.
She has breast cancer. A grape-sized lump she found herself. She was still breastfeeding her baby when she discovered the lump. The cancer was invasive and aggressive. She would be undergoing a double mastectomy Monday (the following morning), and will start chemo in May.
As I finished reading the email, with tears streaming down my face, my heart ached. My friend has cancer. My friend who's children are the same age as my own. My friend who is the same age as my sister. My friend who is in amazing shape, who doesn't drink or smoke or eat unhealthy foods. My friend who has no history of breast cancer in her family. My friend who is still too young to get a mammogram. She has cancer. Tomorrow, she will have no breasts. The breasts she used to feed her babies will be gone. And soon she will have no hair.
Still, Allison sounded brave. She sounded ready to fight. Hard. Ready to do what ever it was going to take to fight the cancer growing in her breast. Ready to fight it and win so she could live her life like she had envisioned. Ready to fight so she could help raise her two beautiful daughters together with her husband.
Having just recently watched how cancer and the treatments that go along with fighting it can ravage a body and slowly chip away at the spirit, my heart was breaking for my friend and her young family. I spent the next 48 hours in constant thought about my friend Allison and the battle she was facing. I thought about the abruptness of such a diagnosis. I thought about my own baby, still breastfeeding, and the sorrow I had been feeling about our inevitable weaning. Then I thought about the idea of weaning by mastectomy. I thought about the idea of being forced to cut off part of you own body just to have a chance to live.
The main reason I started blogging was to help me remember my blessings... to help me remember to be grateful every day. There are days when I am able to live with gratitude in my heart. Other days, not so much. And sometimes, something happens that jolts me awake, as if to say, "YOU ARE SO LUCKY! JUST LOOK AT YOUR LIFE! REMEMBER!"
Allison's mastectomy went smoothly, and she seems to be recuperating well. There is no sign of cancer in the surrounding lymph tissue, which indicates that the cancer has not metastasized. She sounds like she is doing well. Still, I know that there is still a long fight ahead. The chemo she faces will cause her to go into immediate menopause in addition to the other side effects normally caused by such treatment. Physically, she faces further surgeries to repair her chest and make her look womanly again. My friend is strong and she is determined, and I think she will beat this thing. I do not look forward to the battles she has to fight. It's a difficult road ahead.
I am so grateful for my health and the health of my family. I am grateful that we are not the ones in the trenches fighting this battle. And I am grateful for the reminders I am given every day to be grateful for my many blessings.

Blessings Everywhere

Last night, Landon told me to go ahead and get a ticket to visit my best friend in Seattle while he stays at home with the kids. He also told me to go ahead and get the ticket that puts me home in the middle of a weekday so I don't have to get up super early in the morning to come home in time for him to go to work at a normal hour. He did all of this after gently carrying our sleeping son upstairs to his bedroom and put him to bed, with a gentle kiss and pat on the forehead. What a blessing to have a husband like Landon.
Today, when I picked up Mason from school, he asked me if I had missed him. I told him that I did, and he assured me that he missed me too while he was at school. Then he told me he loved me. When we got home, he asked if he could watch a show and have a snack before naps. While we watched Dora, he shared his cheese and crackers with his sister without any prompting, then snuggled up next to me and stroked my hair. What a blessing to have a son like Mason.
This evening, as I read stories with Marissa, she cuddled up close to me and smiled. She patted my hair and my arm and gave me kisses. What a blessing to have a baby like Marissa.
Yesterday, I spent the afternoon with my sisters and their children. We exchanged stories, commiserated on shared experiences as mothers and wives, and generally enjoyed being together. They watched my kids so I could run my car to get some maintenance completed. Then we all went to dinner and had ice cream afterward, and I paid for nothing me or my kids consumed. What a blessing to have sisters like Caitlin and Meagan.
Everywhere I turn, I find blessings. Sometimes I forget to look for them, but they are there even so. Some of these blessings I really don't deserve, yet I benefit from them all the time. I am so grateful that despite my continued ingratitude and lack of perspective, I am so, so blessed.

new friends

Since we moved back to Sacramento about 16 months ago, we've really enjoyed being back near our families. The kids love spending time with their cousins and Landon and I really like having so much support from our parents and siblings. One thing has been largely absent, however: friends.
Now, my sisters are my closest friends in the world, but they aren't around the corner, and their schedules are crammed pretty full. Through last summer, we were able to get together at least once a week to play and catch up, but Mason and Collin started school in the fall. Not long after that, Caitlin started working for our parents, so we just don't get to see them as much as we would like. As the months have passed without these regular play dates, I have really started missing having friends. Friends who live close by. Friends who have kids the same age (or thereabout) as my own. Friends who want/need to get out of the house as much as I do.
I have a hard time creating new friendships. I'm a little shy in group settings and I have some social anxiety (due, in large part, to the fact that I lack that filter in the brain that strains out the inappropriate things one thinks before they come out of one's mouth). There are a lot of very kind women who have their kids in school with Mason, but it seemed that they knew each other before I ever showed up. Everyone is very cordial and polite, don't get me wrong, but no one seemed to want to strike up a friendship with me (okay, no one was going out of their way to draw me out of my shell).
A couple of months ago, Landon told me that an attorney who had been opposing counsel on an old case had just enrolled his daughter in Mason's class. He sent me a link to the guy's website (I'm not sure why), and told me his daughter's name. The next day, I happened to drop Mason off and noticed the attorney from the website Landon had sent prodding his reluctant daughter to go join the other children on the playground. Mason had a hard time going to school that morning, so we had brought a carrot to feed the bunny. I introduced myself (huge deal for me), and offered to let his daughter help Mason feed the bunny. I made a big deal over her fancy, glittery shoes, and she decided I was okay. The next morning, I inadvertently followed her mom home on my way to go look at a house for sale that I had found on the internet (they live across the street from said house). I was a little worried that she was going to think I was a weird stalker or something. So, that afternoon, I explained why I had followed them home. We chatted a little about the house and the neighborhood.
Making this connection with one mom from Mason's school pushed me to be a little braver. I have invited our new friends out for ice cream and joined them on trips to the park. The success of such outings has given me some courage to invite other moms to play at the park or to other simple playdates with our kids, and I find that I am making friends. And it feels nice to have someone to chat with, even for a couple of hours as our kids play at the park. Heck, another mom gave me her mom card (like a business card but for a stay at home mom) after we randomly met at the park a few times, suggesting I call if we plan to head to the park. I feel almost like I picked up on someone. hahahaha
It's nice to know that I'm not a total freak, like I sometimes worry I am, and that people like to be around me. It's nice to have someone to commiserate with when our husbands are working all weekend like lawyers often do. It's nice to have an excuse to leave the house and let the kids run around and play or eat ice cream. It's nice to feel connected to other grown ups and not feel so dependent on Landon for human contact.
So, today I'm grateful for new friends, and to the hope that one day they might be old friends. : )