the cure.

after the mother of all crappy days, i picked up the ninos and headed home- by way of the grocery store. while inside it started to rain, then pour. walking out-the storm clouds were back-lit by the sunset. it felt more like walking on a movie set rather than anything real.
matt was scared (probably because his sister told him he might get pounded by deadly hail) so he tucked his head under my arm and did his little self-soothing hum he does.

we made it to the car and of course I had left the sunroof open. of course.

so while driving home to the anthem of tornado sirens, my (almost) 10 year old says (in a twangy southern accent for emphasis)

"i knew a storm was brewin' cuz my knee's been hurtin' all day!"

what? what 10 year olds says that?

oh yeah, mine does.

he made me laugh.
and just like that, i felt better.
i hate that i can be so emo. but i can.

so it was a crazy storm.
for a second i thought a funnel cloud might scoop us up.
but i know better than that.

a merry heart makes a cheerful countenance: but by sorrow of the heart the spirit is broken.
Proverbs 15:13

I heart finished projects.

all the bright lights.

i'm not a review writer. i'm not an authority on music.
but i do know good music when i hear it- and i'm in tune with the emotions it evokes.
i love how good music heightens all your senses.
i love how good music puts the life- that other things drained out, back in you.
music is a gift.
this record is a gift-
all wrapped up in something extra special.
it's gut wrenchingly pure- you can tell it comes straight from the heart.
it isn't forced, or devised. it has nothing to prove. it's just plain beautiful.

it's like a drive through the countryside, you're going to see (hear) something new each time.
and probably feel something new each time, too.

in my opinion... it's best heard with ear buds.
and trust me, you're gonna turn it up until you hear your mom's voice in your head warning you of your impending deafness.

and not to be completely self-adsorbed, here is a brief description of the way it makes me feel...

it makes me happy.
it makes me cry.
it makes me want to rise to the occasion.
it breaks my heart- in a good way.
it soothes me.
it moves me.
it makes me feel brave-

and very proud.
oh, did i mention it's my brother's record?

it stirs something on the inside that makes me want to create something in my own rite.
i believe that everybody's got their own masterpiece on the inside that's trying to get out-
and this music could be the soundtrack for that journey.

you should buy it.

click here.

redemption

Dear redplum & smartsource,

I was beginning to think you didn't love me anymore- but after today...I believe in us again!
$2.50 off 1 aveno hair care...Will you marry me?



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snow day.

they've been predicting snow to arrive today since last week. at about 8:00 a.m. today it started coming down. the grocery stores have been impossibly busy, the shelves are ransacked as if the end of the world is near. there's a nervous energy in the city that's enough to drive you crazy- like a full moon on steroids.

meanwhile...i love snow, it's so beautiful and fun for the kids. the sound it makes falling is like a thousand birds flapping their wings.

gunther likes it, too.

The marriage of true minds.

So Carlos and I were laying in bed...get your mind out of the gutter, we were playing iPhone scrabble. gah. Anyway...I was remembering years ago when we used to write words on eachother's backs (pretend not with an actual pen) and try to guess. Now we have all this technology. It's crazy.


And... I scored a 99 point word! Yay me!

jota (hō′tə)

noun

a Spanish dance in 3/4 time performed by a man and woman to the rhythm of castanets.

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friendship.

Today, I'm so thankful for my BFF Hannah. She's a busy single mom and we rarely get the chance to talk in the phone. When we do, it's like a verbal marathon of scattered thoughts and half told stories. We interrupt each other with the best of intentions not to create another bunny trail- but we always do. We're in a rush to catch up with each other before our hectic lives force us off the phone.

It's quite a contrast to the years we spent as stay-at-home-moms. We shared thousands of lazy days at the beach, park, or kiddie art museums. Afternoons full of fruit salad and talks about motherhood, our marriages, birth, & breastfeeding. Morning visits that turned into afternoon visits, that turned into cooking dinner together. Kids running, and screaming, laughing, and crying. Those were the shining golden years. Those were the best days of my life.

I can't believe we're 600 miles apart, I can't believe how much she still gets me.

So yesterday, I walked around in circles at publix, throwing the occasional item in my cart, as we talked on the phone. I didn't care about groceries, coupons, or sales. I was having a hard day, and I needed a friend. Still talking, still oblivious to the world around me, I finally payed for my items and made my way to my car and drove home.

I cant tell you how many times I get to the end of a conversation, and totally abandon my plan of telling someone "I'm not okay." But when she told me she had to go, I asked her for a few more minutes. 20 minutes and a good ugly cry later, we said goodbye. I don't even remember what I said, but I felt so much better. There's nothing like a heart to heart with your bestie.

I wrote this for her years ago, when I first moved here. I still feel the same way.

Hannah, I know you don't really read my blog, but this one's for you. I love you. And seriously- thank you.

how i miss you
my dear friend
and the days
we used to spend carefree
or so it seemed
our troubles tossed away
left to brew for later.

our babies were babies
as they are no more...
how it seemed they'd be forevermore
unfolding in our arms.

if only i could remember better
the way it was then.
and hindsight being what it is
would have told me to breathe
and feel, and listen a little better...
for those days were fleeting
so precious and few.

and who would of known what the future would bring
contemplating...
as our children would sing.
it was all right there
so simple and free.

the path we carved, who could measure?
babes in arms and in the womb.
losses and gain.
this truth i treasure-
that in laughter and pain
we learn .
and grow.
and the years are sure to show
i could never find another
friend like you.

2010.

hope deferred makes the heart sick,

but a dream fulfilled is a tree of life.

proverbs 13:12

i trust you, God!

Yule 2009. A photo essay.

This was the first year that we had gifts actually under the tree...can you say no more todlers?


Score.


Photo credit to aiya.


Aunt jacki's cookie apprentice 1, and apprentice 2.


Dad doing what dad does best.


My signature thumbdrop cookies.


New metro shelves for me!


Sweetness.



Vaida in denial that her mom isn't holding her.




The doctor is in.

Happy new year.

days like these

So, Matty is sick today.

I opened at work, but once I got the news it was less than an hour and I was out the door and on my way home...which was nothing short of a Christmas miracle. I was thankful to my replacement, I even left him some money with a note attached that read "lunch is on me, thanks again!"

Carlos has done so many of the sick days with the kids, he gets paid sick time, and doesn't have to bother with getting shifts covered. So usually he stays home. On those days, mommy guilt usually gets the best of me.

So today, I'm thankful to be home with my buddy...he's worth every unpaid moment. The truth is, nobody can take care of him like I can. And he's so sweet when he's sick. He's not a grouchy one, just all tender and helpless.

I told him I was sorry he was sick. And he said "I'm sorry too, momma, but I feel better when you put washcloths on my neck."
These are the moments I feel like a really good mom.

I stroked his hair, and he drifted away to sleep. Then he woke up two minutes later, and barfed.

Poor little buddy.



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sigh.

Yesterday, I was at work, dodging cars in the parking lot, as I took out the trash. It was crisp and windy. I thought the clouds looked like snow clouds, but then I realized, I have no idea what snow clouds look like. But they looked like I'd imagine snow clouds would look, gray and billowy. In that moment, I wished a fluffy snow would fall, and wisp me straightaway to Christmas morning. I caught a glimpse of somebody taking a smoke break. It seemed like they were enjoying their solitude. My thoughts drifted away to memaw...always with the cigarette- always shining in my eyes. I missed her so bad it stung my throat. Tomorrow is 9 years since she died. I've thought about her seven billion times since then. I've told her I miss her, and how much I still needed her. She was my vision of perfection, although I knew she had flaws. She was my favorite place. She was Christmas.

Music was playing loudly, I assume for the marathon taking place across the street. Suddenly, "give it away" from red hot chili peppers came on. At first, I thought that was an odd song to hear in a public setting. And then I remembered, I'm 35. Pretty much everything caters to my age group. We generation X-ers are all grown up. We're the soccer moms, and the engineers. The nurses, and bankers.

Fighting the urge to break out a few dance moves, I closed the door on one of my favorite songs from the past...I had nothing more to do outside. I felt so sad in that moment. I felt like the chili peppers were mocking me. I felt like they knew they were hitting a nerve. I wanted to shout. I wanted to dance all over the monotony of my life. I want to take everything back that I've lost. I want to feel like I have a purpose. I want a farm house, without the farm. I want to help women have babies.

I want another Christmas with Memaw.