For the Love of Winter

Winter is not exactly my favorite season. In fact, if we were to rank them, it wouldn't even be close. Winter would be the clear LOSER. And I don't think I'm alone.
According to my Facebook friends feed (and I have some serious kick ass friends) this is a rendition of how this past week of the snow vortex went down:

Day 1: WOOHOO KIDS!!! No School! We are sledding all day until we feel the need for puzzles, board games and reading every book on the shelf. Let me start on that gluten free coffee cake for breakfast. Get ready- this will be the Best. Day. Ever.

Day 2: Morning kids- no school. Again. Let's have some cereal bars, do some art and maybe this afternoon we could watch Finding Nemo. I might shake up today by adding a little espresso to my cocoa.

Day 3: Are you guys seriously still off? Ridiculous. Today we are watching bootlegged free movies online. All day. There may be some stale pop tarts somewhere. Please be a doll and hand momma that bottle of Bailey's to add to my cocoa.

Day 4: Let me just add some cocoa to my bottle of Bailey's.

Hello BFF.

Sound familiar? Since it is still (effin) January, I realized that we need to still weather a lot of this weather (pun unfortunately intended). I'm going to take a moment to look at the positives of winter (trust me, they are there, we just have to believe together). Our glass of Bailey's is half full around these parts. Or it's in need of a refill. Anyone want to pick up a case (or four) in their snowshoes?

Let's put on our parkas and do our best snow dance because here is what is to love about winter:

• Think of it as working toward spring. We have to date her, court her and work for her love. Winter is the foreplay that that seems like it will never end but with each passing day you know you are one step closer to the best orgasm ever that is spring. You have to earn your orgasms people. 

• Winter clothes are very forgiving. Who cares how many holiday cookies you consume when your uniform for an entire 3 month period is oversized sweaters, leggings and boots? You know what is not forgiving? A bikini. Enough said.

• Time to be productive indoors. You know all of those projects that you never would dream of doing when it is nice outside (clean out the closets; reorganize the pantry; vacuum)? Now is the time to get er done. Or read more books. Or watch more movies. Do the things you love. Happiness is productive, complaining about the things we can't control is not.

• Time to have sex by the fire. No one wants to have sex by the fire in summer. That's just not even practical. But if your partner/significant other/friend with benefits lights a fire and you shaved possibly shaved your legs and you shed those sweaters and leggings... magic will happen. Winter can be very HOT. Like I said, it is time to be productive indoors.

• Snow is beautiful. I'm not being sassy here, it really is. There will always be a feeling of euphoria when the first flakes fall and to hear wide eyed children against glass panes whispering "snow"... and to see all of that brown and gray be covered in a blanket of pure white... magic. And I realize that there a great number of people in this world that have never seen snow and may not ever get a chance to in their lifetimes. So maybe I shouldn't take it for granted. Maybe I should even embrace it.

Okay kids, let's get the sleds out. Though I am not going out without a giant thermos full of just for momma's special "cocoa".

Happy winter friends and just think that there only 54 days until spring...

xoxo

The Type of Mom I Want to Be

I can picture her as clear as I can picture my mountain of laundry.

The type of mom I want to be.

She is patient.

So full of hope and awe and love that her skin radiates in the glow of it all.

She is not frazzled. Her voice doesn't raise. Her children... listen. They respect her. They want to do right by her. Her disappointment in them is the strongest punishment and once it is granted they wouldn't dare tempt their fate again.

She has time. She has time to play. On the floor. To put legos together. To put on Barbie's evening gown. To look at the clouds and the different shades of rocks that border the sidewalks path.

She is together. Hair washed, nails painted, clothes stylish. She doesn't lose herself in this journey of motherhood. She is there for her partner, rock for her children, knows herself and keeps it all thriving, joyous and constant. She is so balanced and awake that you feel more alive in her presence.

She isn't weighed down by the endless domestic tasks of life. She just keeps going forward. She is so unburdened that she practically floats. The happiness of her family is her adventure and reward. She makes this world better. Without effort she is an artist, a coach, a dancer, a chef, a dreamer, a friend. Giver of time in an unrelenting circle to make this planet better than she found it.
She is all things beautiful.

I was her. 

And then...

I had children. And then I had some more. I may still have pieces of this image of this mother but never actually all (or none) of these at the same time. I know what it feels like to have a baby that doesn't stop crying, a toddler that hangs from chandeliers, a preschooler that lets go of your hand in the street, a child with anxiety and what it feels like to be asked questions again and again and again. I haven't completed a full thought in a decade and I don't remember what it feels like to sleep uninterrupted through the night. Imperfection and survival are what I excel at try to excel at.

So I hold onto the hope of the ambition of this too-impossible-to-ever-be-real image of motherhood. I try to always end my days with gratitude. The gratitude of another day of being surrounded by all things beautiful and the reward of another day to embrace it all. Not to outdo the day before but to just soak it all in before my kids won't want to play with me on the floor anymore. Each day with young children is another chance to help your dreams and their reality collide in such a way that just might make this world better. At the very least, there will be laughter and that seems like a good place to start.

Here is to you my friends... I think that you are all things beautiful.

xoxo

A Midwinters Day Meltdown

It often starts with a moment.

A moment in time where you wake up and think what am I doing? Why am I here? Where am I going in life?

This for me happened of course at none other than Target.

The week before Christmas. At Target.

I had 12 minutes to make a return from an impulse Black Friday deal and buy 22 last minute items before I had to fly to pick my twins up from preschool to avoid being "that" mom. The late one. Again. Totally doable right?

I sped through the store like I was on a game show against the clock and about to win when I reached the checkout lane. Let me rephrase, I parked in a checkout lane. No movement. No eye contact. No one employee wanting to open another register for the 78 of us there looking frantically at the clocks on our cell phones. 

I looked at my cell phone clock. That can't be right. Let me look at my actual watch, it wouldn't lie to me. Oh no. I was Not. Going. To. Make it.

Noooooooooooo.

Say it isn't so. Tell me watch and cell phone time. Tell me you can make more time.

Then the tears came.

The thought of having to not only make a return trip to buy this (mostly) necessary random cart items but to have to bring my twins back with me to do it felt like a dagger to the soul. I checked my cart again to see if the tears were necessary or if I could abort and never return. Damn it. Among the stocking stuffers and teacher gifts were toilet paper and caffeine. Yes. A return trip was in order.

I waited in another too long line to ask in desperation if I could leave my cart with a promise to return, hopefully less sweaty but with two four year olds that may be among the world's most challenging people to shop with. We would be back. Please feel free to add tissues to the cart.

Deep breaths. Retrieved car from the garage along with everyone else doing the exact same thing at the exact same moment and only misidentified my car twice for two other black ones, one that actually didn't even resemble it.

Somewhere between my abandoned cart, my ridiculous to do list (is writing a note to remind myself to write a note to the kids in cursive from the freakin elf seriously on my to do list), inching along Christmas meets lunch hour insanity in Annapolis, I realized that I am a train wreck. And realized yet again that I AM NOT GOING TO MAKE IT. 

Shit. I suck at being Santa. Maybe not Billy Bob Thornton in Bad Santa bad. But still Kris Kringle on Miracle on 34th St. I am not. Tears.

I might actually be that baby in his lap.

It was time to phone a friend. By all things holy my friend Heidi said she would grab the twins for me from school. Her son is in their class and she has older twin boys. She told me she completely understood and to go turn around and save my cart. I love her.

I then cried at her generosity. WTF has happened to me? Get yourself together woman.

Deep breaths. I went back to that garage and acted like I owned it. I got this. Checked out with holiday joy in my voice. Headed to the liquor store with a spring in my step. Bought angelic friend Heidi a bottle of wine. And a case for our house (don't judge, it is the holiday season). Went and picked up my babes. And on that drive I woke up. 

I realized it was me. I put the stress on me. A ridiculous unnecessary stress brought on by trying to overcomplicate my life. My kids only asked for a few things already purchased and my husband and I truly don't "need" anything (aside from the toilet paper and caffeine. And the case of wine). So why make it harder than it has to be?

I think that in my hopes to give my family this dreamy magical memorable holiday that I turn myself into June Cleaver's crazy twin. I can assure you that she is not at the top of anyone's Christmas list. What am I supposed to do? Not make enough cookies to fill a small bus? Not make our own hand sewn gifts when I don't even know how to sew? Not follow Martha's 12 nights of Christmas dinners all made from scratch that includes something called mignonette gelee?

Actually yes, that's exactly what I shouldn't do. And unless it brings you pure angel rejoicing joy, you probably shouldn't either. In our quest to create a "perfect" holiday we may actually lose all the traits of the type of person we want to actually spend the holiday with.

So please remind me of this if you seeing me crying in the dollar section next December. I want to be the girl you want to shop with. I want to be able to want to stand myself. 

I know some people don't believe in resolutions but I personally feel that if the turn of the calendar motivates us to make positive changes in our lives than I am all for it. I love the idea of a fresh start, another chance to be who we aspire to be. So here are my hopes for for this bright beautiful new year for myself and I would love for you to come along for the ride:

• Live more naked. More raw, honest, simple. Pair it all down. And then some more.
• Try not to be the cause of my own crazy.
• More yoga. Teach more. Take more. Make time for it and it will have a positive ripple effect on everything else in life.
• Write more. Blog more. Create more.
• Write a novel. That is my big scary get out of my own way goal and get out all of these words floating in my head that just need to be released onto paper already. I have had my soul set on this for too long for it not to come to life this year.
• Unplug more.
• Adore and appreciate more.
• Be present.
• Laugh, play, breathe.
• Repeat.

So here's to a year of embracing, living out loud and doing so stripped down, naked and honest to ourselves and each other. 

Cheers to the pure potential that each year brings...

I would love to hear your hopes and goals and meltdowns too.

happy 2014 lovelies...

xoxo