the life cycle of a girl

the great horned owl hooting in the night sky keeps me company while i burn out my morning pages by star light.  i'm working around some great magic that's been locked away in the responsible part of myself.  i know you know the responsible part, friend.  it's who you learned to be when you became the rule following, people pleaser - as did I.  it's the little girl who took on the weight of the world and called herself out for every stupid, embarrassing, little mistake she made.  the girl who carried glue and tape in her pocket prepared for each worst case scenario.  oh, that girl.  if i could, i would hold her tight and make her know she was not alone.  instead i write her out of the shadows and into the spotlight on the pages of my notebook.

the try hard, fix it, do more, be more life can only take us so far.  eventually the little girl has to grow up and face her disappointment and joys as an adult.  and it is just way easier to pretend to be grown up than to actually accomplish the task.  to leave the sadness and pain out of the story would dull the happiness and joy. but there's been so much sadness lately, so let me tell you about the joy.  the gratitude for the life i have.  i helped to raise a girl not my own.  she was my responsibility, and i her servant.  many days i wondered if i was in over my head.  i was not clear on how to be of use to her.  twenty some years later, she asks me to help her give back.  today she starts her life's work with a servant's heart.  with compassion for others and selfless motives.

letting a girl go into the world is bittersweet.  for our own selfish reasons we hold on to her tightly.  watching her grow up can be painful.  we've been a part of the story once before and it's a page turner, nonetheless.  our hearts ache for her; our hearts ache for the little girl inside ourselves.  letting her know that no matter what.  she is not alone.  in the joy.  in the disappointment.  that's the real good part.  we are all in this together.  growing and going and giving back.

one of the guys

we live in the country.  we have no pizza delivery.  well, we do.  but it costs a lot.  more than the tank of gas it would cost me to just drive to the nearest town and pick something up.  lucky me, you guys. i loaded up two boy children and ventured out to the closest pizza place for sleepover staples {including a two liter of sierra mist - it was super special}.  yada, yada, yada.  boy speak.  bohemian rhapsody TURNED UP.  burping.  farting.  i was totally tuned out and trying not to lose my mind, when the conversation turned to girls.  if you were ever a grade school girl who wondered what boys talked about when you weren't around, rest assured.  it was lovely and charming and respectful.  i held my breath and listened as if i were a fly on the wall.  i was giddy that i was witness.  

super

one thing that was not so super about this weekend was the bronco game.  it was quite a disappointment to say the least.  what would have made it worse would have been snow.  which didn't happen.  so there is a silver lining. i am thankful, so thankful, for the experience.  which leads me to why i love my husband.

most people don't ever know how their actions.  their behavior.  their day to day routine affects someone's life.  enter steve atwater (former denver bronco).  we happened to be standing next to one of his publicity events and started chatting him up.  i said we got to see you play in the super bowl in miami.  my husband used to work for the broncos.  you could say a lot of things to a football star.  you could talk up his game play.  you could stroke his ego.  but my husband says to him, "you were such a pleasure to work with."  and he didn't stop there.  he made sure to tell his wife what a decent man he had been and how appreciative he was for his kindness.  hands down classiest men in the room.  my husband and steve atwater.

last, and certainly not least, heather.  remember our babysitter, heather?  broncos cheerleader.  rookie of the year, now cheer captain.  pro-bowler.  super-bowler.  we are proud of who this girl is and what she stands for.  she is gold inside and out.  and as luck would have it, i got her attention at the game.  i was in tears.  so proud.

eye candy

logan

smith family photo shoot

(one of my favorites - photo and family)

2013

ivan

i found an extra book on my reading pile.  the one and only ivan.  sweet pea asked if i would read it and then checked the next morning to see how far i'd gotten.  i think it was the best book he's ever read.  total page turner.  couldn't put it down.  he can't wait to discuss.

b hope

oh man, i love this child.  she is spunky and vibrant and giggles at my jokes.  today, sweet pea told his class about her while they were reading an ethiopian fable.  she is a blessing in all of our lives.  on ethiopian christmas, and every day, we love you sweet girl!

chuck

photo credit

confession.
{B} and i watched six seasons of gossip girl over the last three months.
our husbands refused to let us even speak of it in their presence.
i loved chuck.
even though the show ended in 2012 we still had a gossip girl series finale party.
last night.
we drank champagne and ate macaroons.
before downton abbey.
then we had tea.
xoxo

begin again

i'd been wondering how much longer the drought would last; about the limits of perseverance.  inspiration had all but dried up.  the words were stored away in a forgotten place.  something was nagging at me to be done with this little place in the big, big, blogosphere.

then i woke up with words forming in my mind.  hello, words.  oh, yes, words.  i remember what words feel like when they bubble up from soul depths.  effervescent.  light and airy.  swirling like butterflies in the wind looking for somewhere solid to land.  words sprinkling their love and attention all around my heart.

how wonderful a feeling when words break free and decide to form themselves into a remarkable thought.  when little bits of inspiration show themselves in the least likely places.  when at the end of the road you find that it's a beginning.

all things new.

beautiful things

walking through the field i was chilled to the bone by the wind.  the clouds rolled in quickly and the air was dry.  we walked as far as the trail would allow.  beavers felled a tree across the pathway and gussy sniffed around for signs of them.  the tree was newish.  sap.  buds.  through the grapevine i had heard nary a word of any animal activity.  unable to make forward progress, we turned to head back home.  as quickly as the clouds covered the sky, they were gone.  the air was still.  snowflakes fell all around me, glistening in the bright sun shining overhead.  not a cloud.  i stopped and marveled at the sight of them.  what a wonder-full morning.

new

 here's to a year of peace and contentment.  a year filled with dance parties and ice cream drinks. 

 a year with children, young and old, who have smiling faces and smiling hearts.  

 a year of standing atop insurmountable obstacles,

and words that write themselves in the dark hours of the morning.

a year of turning forty with a sense of accomplishment.

joy is....

joy is the peaceful second before the fight over the last corner piece begins.  

for the love of sausage fingers

a year or so ago my wedding rings stopped fitting.  i forced them onto my sausage fingers many times and then put them in a jewelry box and adopted a larger, much less meaningful substitution.  several people asked why i just didn’t have them resized.  i maintained the problem was not the rings but my steady change in weight over the years.  i was not the girl he married eleven years ago, and i truly believed (for a minute or so) that he would rather have that girl back.  i had the lingering doubt that i was not worthy of my rings if i wasn’t the person he married.  not just my sausage fingers, but everything seemed so much bigger and dramatic and more complicated than it did eleven years ago.  weight and gravity hold a person down, hold a person back from moving forward, keep them restrained just enough that they miss the light on the horizon.

we are somewhere between idaho and colorado amidst a frozen, windy wasteland.  the beautiful sunlight is shining on my laptop screen and i can see those rings in the reflection.  the weight of my fingers has not changed much since i became determined that changing my hands was the way to a  dream marriage.  the rings were put away too long.  without them i forgot the way he looked at me when he put them on.  the rings themselves were not important, but without them on my finger it became just a bit too easy to forget all of the love behind them.  so much time passed, i tried to jam them on my finger to no avail.  there is no fitting that eleven year ago sized marriage onto the people we have become.  resizing became the only option.  letting go of the past.  letting go of unrealistic expectations.  that was my gift this Christmas.  rings that fit perfectly.  now.  on sausage fingers.  with all of the love behind them.  looking at the reflection of those rings i see they no longer remind me of the wife i think he would want.  they show how love grows and changes with time.  just like our bodies, our families, our minds…and our marriage.