We recently started to do something new each night around the dinner table. The kids are still young and we all eat dinner together every night, just as I did when I was growing up at home with my parents. It’s important to me that no matter if someone has a busy schedule or the kids don’t like what I made that we still all sit together as a family and for that sliver of the day, spend that time to come together away from the crazy of it all to be in the same space to listen and to share.

In an effort to make the moments at the table a little bit less about whining about what is in the dinner I made that picky mouths don’t like and a little more about family time, I started asking my kids, “what was the best thing about your day today?” And they loved sharing little things that I might not otherwise have heard about – “My best friend laughed at my joke at lunch!” or “When you jumped on the hay bales with me!”

One evening, my question was answered with silence. My daughter couldn’t think of anything, but she did say “I can tell you the worst thing that happened to me today!” and she told us about the boy a grade above her in school who pointed and laughed at her in the lunchroom the day after the 49ers vs. Giants game when she wore her 49ers shirt to school in an effort to show she loves her team even when they lose. Tears came to her eyes as she recounted the older boy mocking her.

We talked about it, about how mean people can be. About how we love ourselves no matter what anyone else thinks.

Thus was born the nightly ritual of not only sharing the best part of each of our days – it’s easy to be grateful for the good stuff – but also each of us have begun to share the worst thing that happened to us each day.

Tonight, it went as such:

7 year old girl:
Best thing – playing on the playground
Worst thing – A boy hitting another boy in the pick up line at school

5 year old boy:
Best thing – Getting pirate treasure at school
Worst thing – A boy taking off his pirate costume at school

Hubby:
Best thing – coming home to his smiling family after work
Worst thing – finding out a friend has cancer

Me:
Best thing – nabbing a pair of 7 for all Mankind jeans at Goodwill for $5
Worst thing – going outside to play with my son this afternoon together and having our yard swarmed by other kids, leaving no quiet for me and my boy

The thing about this exercise is that usually, it brings about a whole lot of gratitude. My hubby and I say to each other often when one of us is complaining about something silly.”If that is the worst thing that happens today, life is pretty good.” And it’s usually true. And while it can seem like our lives are reduced to play time and bargains, sometimes it’s those little things that matter the most and can make or break the day. There is nothing better than looking back on a day well spent and realizing that even with the “bad”, life is still really good.

I have been a horrible, no good, terrible, very bad blogger. I can’t believe it is the last day of January and the last time I posted was the end of December. Hello!

I haven’t even been taking very many pictures…just sort of living life and the days are flying by. Too fast.

My 7 year old daughter and I ran a 5K together last week. It was so much fun. I have never run so slow in my life, but who cares. She did awesome – especially since she’s only ever run a mile straight. We didn’t run the whole thing. We ran to the 1st mile marker, then walked, then she whined about where the water table was and we alternated jogging/walking until we got to it. She was being so funny “I can’t go a step further without water!!” or asking “Can I sit down for a minute?” I told her, “We’ll run, we’ll jog, or we’ll walk. But there is no sitting!!” Am I mean or what? She raised money through sponsors for a local boy who is 14 years old and needs his second liver transplant. So while we were out there, we talked about him and that he couldn’t do something like run a 5K, so she said she wanted to keep going just for him. Love that girl.

My parents hosted their somewhat annual Burns Supper. So much fun – a night full of tartan, bagpipe and fiddle music, yummy food and lots of laughs.

Can we talk about this guy for a second? My baby boy who spent the night of the party drinking ginger ale after ginger ale out of a shot glass. My little man who is about to be 5!!! That cannot be. I am going to look back and wonder where the days of him being completely enamored with little things like bubbles in a glass went.

My blog is being cranky about me uploading pictures and keeps shutting down every time I add one, so that’s all for now. Hopefully I’ll be back with something a little more interesting…or not…soon.

As 2011 began, I set my sights on some long put off goals and now that the year is over, I’m happy to look back and say I completed them.

I signed up for and ran my first half marathon back in February while my hubby and kids stood in the cold for 2 hours to cheer for me for the 15 seconds it took me to go past them. I still get choked up thinking back to that moment of running past my daughter with her “Go Mommy” sign.

I also signed up for and finished my final class for my bachelor’s degree and am officially a University of Colorado at Boulder graduate. Woo!

My two big goals for the year complete. What next? Probably a full marathon, maybe more school.

Around the house, we painted the kitchen a new blue.

We turned our guest room into a playroom.

We did a quickie little makeover at our entryway.

And added a beadboard headboard in our bedroom that just celebrated it’s first birthday.

In the rest of our not picture perfect ready for it’s closeup just everyday living life:

I spent a month cooking all new to me meals.

We spent another glorious summer at the cottage.

Back in January of this year, I wrote this post about The me I want to be and the struggle I was having with blogging, sharing, writing, taking pretty pictures and the pressure that I felt from all of it. I think that this year brought big changes to this blog. I stepped back a lot more. I didn’t share just to share. I took time off when I needed it. I enjoyed the moments and began to really live what is in my heart more than just talking about it. I think it’s safe to say now that the year has passed that I really did become the me I wanted to be this time last year. What a wonderful thing for anyone.

I thank you all for being here over the past year or years. I appreciate all of you and wish you all the best in the coming year.

Happy New Year!!

I had every intention of sharing some sort of year end wrap up post with you this week. I probably still will, but I can think of nothing at the moment but this, so that will have to wait.

Yesterday, I almost burned my house down.

My kids and I were readying ourselves to leave the house and I had eggs boiling on the stove. We have more backyard eggs at the moment than I know what to do with so I figured I’d boil 6 of them to make a big egg salad later in the day. As I helped my daughter with something in the kitchen (I still can’t remember what it was), I said to her “I need to turn the eggs off before we leave.” Then my son came to me with a hand in each shoe asking me which goes on which foot and I went to help him. Then we walked out of the house.

After taking my daughter to her friend’s house, my son and I headed out on a date day of starbucks, gift card using, hand holding and joke telling. We drove 45 minutes away from home to do all of these things after we’d spent over a half hour doing some around town errands. All that to say that it was intended to be a full day away from the house. We’d been gone just over 2 hours when my cell phone rang.

A neighbor had been outside walking with his daughter when they went by our house and heard my smoke detector going off. I guess it’s a good thing those suckers are loud. He called his wife and she called me. Said “I’m sorry I’m bothering you, I’m sure it’s nothing but he says the alarm is going off at your house and I just thought I’d let you know. There isn’t smoke or anything, so I am sure it’s fine!” I interrupted her “$%&$#@!! I left my stove on with eggs boiling!” I panicked. I was 45 minutes from home, felt totally helpless and my mind raced trying to figure out what to do. My son and I ran to the car and started to drive home, but I was 45 helpless minutes away.

I gave her permission to tell her husband to check all the windows and see if he could get in. At this point, they still thought it was just the alarms and not a big deal. But when he went up to my kitchen window to check if it was open, he panicked because my house was full of black smoke and he couldn’t see across any of the house because of it. He found a window that had miraculously been left unlocked by my dad when they were here for the weekend and he bent a screen to get inside. He turned my stove off, let my dogs out, and opened all of my windows and doors. The house still smells of nasty-campfire-burnt-egg-emily-is-an-idiot smell.

I arrived home about 30 minutes after he was able to get inside. He said that the eggs had exploded all over the kitchen – the dogs had cleaned them up (yuck!) – and I marveled that my pan had survived the incident. I couldn’t help but wonder how any of the flying egg hadn’t caught fire on my cooktop. Or how my pan hadn’t melted. I guess they are worth it. I thought about how if it hadn’t stopped raining then that my neighbor wouldn’t have been outside to hear the alarm – that I would’ve been away for hours more.

I shook and was on the verge of tears for hours. Sure, it’s just the house. Just stuff. I hugged my husband for too long, apologizing for almost destroying the one thing in his life he’s worked the hardest on – this place we call home not just because it’s where we sleep and live but because of all the heart that has gone into it.

I want to tell myself that it was a mistake. Could’ve happened to anyone. But I hate myself. I am so upset and embarrassed that I let this happen. Can’t stop thinking about what if it was worse. Can’t help but be very very thankful with a whole new view of having a cozy place to sit today, a comfortable place to sleep, this space we call home. Even if it does smell like really really hard boiled eggs.

On a whim I decided to do a craft with my kids a couple of days ago. Doing a craft with my kids really ended up meaning I did the craft while they played outside then when I was done, they came in and showed off “their” craft to their daddy like they’d done all the work. The circle banner garland thingy was really fun and easy. Just paper circles sewn together to make a big long tangly twisted garland that I hung as best I could considering the tangly twisted part.

Such is life, you do one little project that takes a few minutes and suddenly another project emerges. With our mismatched stockings hung below the bright and cheerful banner, I realized that it was time to get some new, nicer, matching stockings. Off to the store we went only to find that they are all cheaply made and ugly and expensive. So I spent a few dollars on felt and made my own. Seriously, I spent $4.62 and made 4 stockings. Please don’t think I enjoyed it – in my head, sewing is way more fun than it ever is while I’m doing it. But when it’s over, I look at a finished product and first, I wonder how all that swearing and needle breaking and such turned into something useable and then I pat myself on the back for actually sticking with it and miraculously turning all the frustration into something my kids adore.

And now, we’re 3 days from Christmas and I’m feeling weary and ready to rest from the lists and chaos. I want to be done so I can sit and enjoy – breathe – for a few moments before the day arrives and is gone in a blink. I don’t want to feel like I missed it.

Each night, the 4 of us have snuggled up and watched another holiday movie on instant netflix while eating popcorn. We’ve baked cookies together, wrapped some gifts with stuff we’ve found around the house together and we’ve had moments of quiet and still to remember what the season means beyond the stuff and the lists.

May the coming days be merry and bright for you.

Merry Christmas, friends!

I found out earlier this week that a family member that we see probably a total of 5 days a year came to visit us last year for 2 days and then told someone else behind my back that we don’t seem very happy. I was assured it wasn’t some assessment of our true happiness, but more of an assessment of the things we do and don’t have and an errant conclusion as a result that we must be unhappy – because of the things we don’t have.

from pinterest

I’d be lying if I said it didn’t bother me. It really did. But given some time to think about it, I went from being upset about something someone who clearly sees happiness as something you attain with the gathering of stuff, status, size to being grateful for her – because even in her unkindness, she reminded me to think about it – to make sure that I am grateful for what I have, that I am happy with where and what my life is right now.

The timing could not have been better as we approach this day of Thanks Giving. I am more conscious than ever of making sure I look around me each day and appreciate what I have and think less about what I don’t. I will embrace the morning hugs, the legos strewn about, the dishes in the sink, the clothes on the floor. For all those things mean that right now we have each other, we have fun, we have food, and we have comfort. We have far more than we need.

Happy Thanksgiving, Friends!

When I got the email with my grade and I realized that I’d done it – was really finished and a college graduate after all of these years – I cried. I was shaking and called my parents to tell them. I was on cloud nine. I still couldn’t figure it out though- how had she passed me? My paper was garbage. She must’ve realized it was my last class and felt sorry for me. Something other than that I had done the work – spent the hours reading, writing, editing for each and every paper. The class didn’t start out great. I got a couple of Cs, a C- on a paper and I thought I was done for. I couldn’t do it. The teacher was too hard, too mean. I looked her up online and read all kinds of reviews about how tough she is – she never gives As. I resigned myself to just muddling through. And here I am done – she handed me 4 As before the class was over and I pulled out the A on the final – somehow.

I am not saying all of this to pat myself on the back. I am saying all of this because I really truly with 98% of my being believed I’d failed. Believed the work I’d done wasn’t good enough. That I didn’t deserve to graduate. Despite every one of my friends and family who knew I was finished with my work congratulating me, I refused to let them celebrate until I knew for good that I’d passed. They all said I was silly, ridiculous even. But in my (perhaps crazy) mind – it made perfect sense. There was no way I’d succeeded. And so it goes. When I run, when I work, when I write, when I take classes. I think about how horrible I am at everything and then credit luck, downhills, and any other thing I can credit other than myself when I do well.

I saw some friends tonight who congratulated me and I said “I can’t believe it!” and they laughed about how for 2 weeks I’d worried myself sick over not passing. We talked about it and wondered “Why do we do that to ourselves?” One friend said “It’s impostor syndrome” and I realized yes that’s me. An impostor. Always convinced that I won’t/haven’t done well. And when I do – convinced it’s because of luck, or niceness or downhills.

And the point is: I imagine I’m not alone. Perhaps we can all commiserate?

Last weekend, I drove up to Savannah, Georgia where I met a friend from college that I haven’t seen in almost 7 years. Lisa is so sweet and it was amazing to get together again after all this time and not even skip a beat. It was like we just saw each other yesterday. I guess that is the beauty of the internet!

Since it was just the two of us and we both love to take pictures, it turns out we each took a whole lot of pictures of Savannah and we ended up with not very many of us. Do you ever hand your camera to someone asking them to take a picture of you and your friend for you and they take your camera and look at it like it came from outer space, they don’t know how to look through a viewfinder and they aren’t sure where the button to take a picture is? Then they chop your heads off? That always happens to me, so only on the last day did we bother to ask someone to get a picture of us together.

Otherwise, we just wandered around the gorgeous town taking pictures of everything, talking non-stop, laughing, eating and shopping.

There were these really steep staircases everywhere that we had to navigate to get down to River Street and up to the other areas for exploring. I am so clumsy, so each time I made it to the top or bottom I was so proud of myself for still being in one piece.

(see Lisa making those stairs look so easy!)

Me, with my favorite things…a latte, my camera, and a red phone booth. Okay, red phone booths aren’t at the top of my favorite things list, but I find them quite charming and they remind me of my mom. When I was little, she always wanted one in our house. I think one year I bought her a mini red phone booth for Christmas.

Some random things around town. I have a thing for light fixtures, doors, and bikes too.

I also love candy.

Am really immature

And don’t know how to take pictures at night

What a sweet town, a perfect place to meet an old friend for a girls weekend. The weather was gorgeous, there was an endless supply of shops to visit and restaurants to eat at. The perfect weekend getaway! If you haven’t been, I’d definitely recommend adding it to your list.

Since the school year started, for the first time in 6 years I have every weekday morning to myself. It’s an odd feeling, one that is still taking some getting used to. I am trying to balance the feeling like I have to say yes to everything everyone asks me to do (because, you know, they all think I have nothing better to do so should say yes) and getting done what *I* need to get done, plus maybe even something that I do just because I want to. For me.

Because my kids are at school during the day, when I get them back I find myself wanting to hold on tighter, play for a few more minutes, and soak in all this stuff now. I still get this cutie all afternoon.

Have I ever introduced you? His name is Eli. He makes me laugh all the time until it hurts. He loves legos. When I sit on the floor for hours and build legos with him, I try to stand up again and can’t unbend my legs for a few minutes. But it’s totally worth it. He makes big messes in the playroom. The only way he knows how to look for something is to dump every container out on the floor. Or to say “Where is my…?” before he’s even looked. He is a boy.

This is Drew. She’s a girl who takes life very seriously, does everything 110% and loves to take care of people and animals. She has a big heart and teaches me everyday about big stuff. There isn’t a tree she sees and doesn’t want to climb. She has more energy than her body knows what to do with. She likes to dig in the dirt in dresses. Her current goal in life is to find another girl named Drew. She watches football with me on Sundays and sees lots of boys with the name Drew. So, if you are one or know one, let me know so I can tell her someone other than Drew Barrymore.

I remember back when I was pregnant with Drew, I was so in love with the thought of just having her, seeing her, knowing if she was a girl or a boy and what color her hair would be. I couldn’t imagine having a 3 month old, or a toddler, a kid who spoke and ran. I definitely couldn’t imagine a preschooler, or a kindergartener. Yet here were are – one in *gulp* 2nd grade and one in Pre-K. How does that happen so fast?

And so, I find myself tripping over toys and instead of saying “pick up your toys!” for the millionth time, I think to myself “these are the days” and they are fleeting. There won’t always be sticky messes on the couch and walls. I won’t always have messy hair because I used up all the getting ready to get out the door time on her hair instead. I won’t always have someone saying “will you play with me?” “come snuggle me!” or “read me a book” and so I think, these are the days. Soak them up now.

Grace for the Good Girl: Letting Go of the Try Hard Life

This book instantly drew me in. I felt like I was sitting at that little cafe table all over again with coffee spilled on my sleeve and bedhead. With each page that I turned, Emily was assuring me that not only am I not alone, but I am normal. She gives permission to all of us women to take off our masks, be our crazy imperfect selves and know that God loves us. What a sense of relief. This book made me laugh and cry. It gave me a strength and confidence to stop hiding and pretending that I can do it all when we all know none of us can.

Emily gracefully and kindly navigates the topics of performance, expectation, disappointment, loss, love, friendship, heartache, and joy with a loving voice. She vulnerably shares her imperfections – big and small – so that we can see that we are not alone. It’s more than just commiserating about these things though. She shares comforting words that make it feel like it’s okay to let go of the masks, take down the walls, and finally live freely.

Revell provided me with a copy to giveaway. If you’d like to win a copy of this beautiful book, leave a comment and I will randomly choose a winner this Sunday, September 18th.

Available September 2011 at your favorite bookseller from Revell, a division of Baker Publishing Group.