A Moment to Daydream...

What would my alter ego be if I had one? This thought entered my mind the other day while I was picking up cottage cheese and goldfish off my kitchen floor. Would I be wild and daring or just another variance of who I am now? Black leather superhero outfits and an English manor to call home, complete with a butler that is oddly similar to Michael Caine? Hmm...I know I'm biting off Batman-the one with Christian Bale, or even Lara Croft. They are exciting and I especially love that they are incredible at martial arts. Don't get me wrong, I'd still be married to my darling husband and be mom to our girls. This is my imagination, I can do what I want here and the logistics don't apply!

There are other options that would be good too. A professional ballroom dancer with an emphasis on the latin dances. I say this because I am terrible at that sort of thing. When I say terrible, I mean completely and utterly bad to the point where it is just embarassing. I know my friend Lisy will laugh and nod her head in agreement when she reads this! I am laughing with her. The next choice is to run a ranch and raise our family among the open land and the specific smell of horses that makes me breathe deeply. I could ride every day and my husband would help put the girls on their horses as we all go out together. Riding is so peaceful and clears the mind much like surfing. Everything else fades away and it restores the soul.

Scott has mentioned living in Europe and having a flower shop, which I could totally go for. We'd live near the coast and eat fresh fish all the time and traipse up and down the cobblestone streets. Our home would have french doors that open out to a view of the coastline and gauzy white curtains that blow from the sea breeze. We would have bicycles with baskets that are parked together in the courtyard next to a fountain.

I am perfectly happy to stay in our little home that we have created in California. I was reminded during the fires a few years ago that it didn't matter where we were as long as we were together. It's just fun to imagine what else we could do if we ever wanted to live somewhere else. Do other people think about this too? It would be interesting to hear responses on this one.

A Day In The Life...

Wow, this has been an interesting day. It began with London having two accidents in the house and leaving puddles in various spots, then she came into the kitchen and announced that she had pooped ON her potty. This was during a playdate with one of our friends and her two children. I ran off to investigate and sure enough, the evidence was there. Grrr...

We went through the yo-yo of naptime and today was a miss. London finally fell asleep and two minutes later, I kid you not, Zoe woke up. No nap for mama. We endured a near meltdown from London when she woke up because she desperately needed a purple popsicle before she could fathom leaving the house to go play at the park. I narrowly won by telling her she could have it AT the park. One point for me.

At the park, London gleefully ate her popsicle and then lost half of it in the sand. A few minutes later, I was walking with Zoe in my arms when I skidded on the sandy ground and went flying forward. We narrowly missed the concrete park bench and I thought I was going to stick my landing, but alas, I tumbled forward and went down on knees and elbows, all the while holding Zoe up in the air as high as I could get her to prevent her from making contact with the ground. I was successful and only incurred some pride-wounding scrapes. Phewww! By this point, I knew it was an odd day.

I changed London before we left and put her in the car without a pull-up under direct orders "not to pee in the car seat". She quickly defied this command and told me so. Sure enough, she was right. I stripped off the wet dress she had on and put her back into her car seat in her birthday suit. We sent off a picture of this to one of my best friends with a caption and then called for back-up to who else but my trusty mother-in-law. She agreed to help us out and we went there for baths and car seat laundering. Grampa was our hero for taking it all apart and putting it back together.

On the way home, I listened to London talking to her toy dinosaurs. She explained that they had to eat their dinner before they could have dessert. That was sweet but it got even better. I felt such a sense of joy when I heard her telling them not to be scared of monsters and to pray to God to take care of them. This is what she does every night before bed. "Dear God, thank you for today. Please watch over my family and please make the monsters all gone if we get scared of them. I love you Jesus, Amen". Enough said.

Note to Self...

I've had a scrap of paper sitting on the bottom crevice of my bathroom mirror for nearly a week now and it's pestering me every time I see it. This tiny slip has two different ideas that I wrote down so I wouldn't forget them during random moments of inspiration. I think I was brushing my teeth when the second one hit, thus an inopportune time to sit down and work on my blog. Now I'm able to sit down and type and my brain feels like a twelve-week old labrador puppy running through a field. I can't focus. Sigh.

It all started with the infamous movie, "Julie and Julia" that made me want to run to the store and buy the items for that beef bourgignon that I saw in the movie. Man, I could smell it just sitting on my couch! I did actually cook chicken cacciatore last week from Giada's recipe and it rocked. The only way that I could accomplish this task was to pay my neighbor's teenage daughter to come play with my kids so I could have my kitchen to myself for an hour. It was so worth it! There's something therapeutic about cooking when it's done with care and detail. I actually enjoyed it.

While I was breading my chicken in flour, I pictured an exasperated Julia Child in her kitchen with an infant crawling at her feet and a two year old running around and asking to be picked up so she could see what was happening on the stove. I could hear her high pitched voice calling out, " I cannot cook under these conditions!" It didn't seem feasible to accomplish the culinary masterpieces that she made in this scenario. I laughed and then added my white wine to the pan. Ahh, the smell of the chicken cacciatore was intoxicating. I was so excited, I was cooking real food and it was working. No short-cut recipes or frozen mixes, just the real deal from scratch. Who knows when this will happen again but it was fun and my family liked it too.

All That Glitters Is Not Gold...

It had been a long, tiring day and I was at wit's end from ricocheting back and forth between the girls and tending to their needs. We needed dinner and the in-laws were coming over to help put up the Christmas tree. Don't get me wrong-I love my husband's parents and am so fortunate to have an excellent relationship with them. This last strand of sanity I was clinging to was due to just needing a break for a few minutes to be alone and drive in the car for something as simple as some take-out spaghetti and meatballs and listen to some really loud music.

Scott agreed to watch the girls while I went on the food run and I jumped in his car and drove off into the night while cranking up the volume on my "Howl" cd. Ahhh...that was more like it. Now here's the part that gets me. Colored lights in store windows and the cold night air reminded me that Christmas was around the corner. For so many years that feeling used to make me sad and a bit lonely. I wanted the big family and a warm home with lots of people who wanted me there but I grew up with a single dad who was working six days a week so he could pay the bills. At the time, I didn't realize that I was more fortunate than many kids, I just felt the sting of all that was missing.

Once I got married, it changed a bit, but the feeling still haunted me. Once we had our first child, it improved significantly and I began to enjoy Christmas through her eyes. It wasn't until this year that I finally had a breakthrough. Let me get back to my wild pasta outing to properly explain. As I drove back with the smell of hot italian food in my car, I felt like I was missing out on the family gathering at my house. It became clear that being with my husband, our children, and our relatives was the best place I could be at that moment and a break wasn't really a break after all. Now don't get me wrong-I'm not saying I don't need breaks. It's just that at that moment, I realized that I needed to be with my family. When I walked through the door and saw everyone and melted into the scenario, I felt at home and a sense of relief and comfort washed over me.

One of my favorite books had a line in it that said "All that is gold does not glitter and all that glitters is not gold". This was a line by Strider in the Lord of the Rings. That outing seemed precious when I planned it but lost it's luster in reality. It's the bittersweet double-edge sword of going anywhere without your kids that most mom's can readily ascertain. Coming home is so sweet.

What Are Cowboy Hats For?

London and I were cleaning out my closet the other night and she discovered the jewelry boxes that belonged to my grandmother. We began investigating their contents and trying on various trinkets together. Scott walked in on us and laughed and I smiled and said that I was so glad I had girls that I can do this sort of thing with. London got her hands on a blue beaded bracelet and has been wearing it everywhere for the last two days. When I tried on my cowboy hat that was in a remote crevice of the closet, covered in dust and dog fur, she asked what it was. I told her it was a cowboy hat that I'd been looking for months ago and she then replied "it's for riding cows!"

Zoe said Dada today for the first time when Scott was holding her on the bed and it was the coolest thing. He seemed surprised and I commented that I had definitely heard it too. Mama was her first word and I know he's been waiting to hear Dada come out. So sweet.

Did I mention my latest multi-tasking adventures? Oh man...the list is long. I was cruising through the parking lot at Costco when I decided to go there last minute to get supplies. I had Zoe in the Ergo carrier and London in the cart and I was pushing it with one hand and feeding Zoe a bottle with the other hand. It must have been a sight. The best part is that I felt so accomplished because I was doing this calmly with a sense of confidence. It was the equivalent of running a 5k marathon or finishing a giant project at work. It represented the pinnacle of coping with motherhood with some experience under my belt. The girls did well the whole time and I made it home without any anxiety attacks-wahoo!!!

Ok, last one to share in this installment. Tonight we went to Scott's friend's house for dinner and I was praying that we'd get through it in one piece. London had orange juice before we left which resulted in a sugar high and some wild behavior in transit. Zoe was talking up a storm in her carseat. I was still trying to cool off with my air vents on high in the front because it was like pulling teeth to get both girls dressed and out of the house in time. My temperature returned to normal and then I heard the all too familiar grunting from Zoe. Oh man, not now! Sure enough, I had to change a poopy diaper in the back of my car on the tailgate while we were parked in front of these people's house. Lovely! We managed this hurdle and then went inside and had a wonderful dinner and enjoyed some really good company. I love happy endings.

Flowers and Friends...

I was in bed the other night and I began thinking about friendship in botanical terms. It occurred to me that some are like perennials and some are more like annuals. For those not well acquainted with gardening terminology, an annual is a plant that blooms once a year and a perennial is one that lasts for many years. There are those friends that remain a constant and do not fade with the passage of time. They are rare and will withstand the high's and lows that life brings, including arguments and changes in one's persona. It is the perennial that I favor and hope for in all friendships, but I realized with my head on my pillow that not all individuals are meant to be a perennial. This thought disturbed me.

Why do some friends stand the test of time and others do not? Is it the fact that I change with time and thus my standards and expectations change too? Perhaps the friend changes? There is of course a third possibility-the friend is constantly growing and so am I and sometimes the growth is not in the same direction. Hmmm...this seems like a plausible concept. I can still remember the wonderful feeling of excitement I would get when starting my summer day at age 13 as I went to my "best friend's" house to lay out on her roof with baby oil and listen to Nu Shooz on the rooftop as we discussed which boy was cute at school. It was a simple recipe and yet so fulfilling. Now it's complicated by busier lives and much less time.

It seems that we lost the need for the girl friends in our lives. Sure, we have playgroups and acquaintances, but the long-term friends move away or fade with time and one day we look up and notice their absence. Perhaps some of the perennials were just annuals and we didn't know it? Maybe some of the one's we think are annuals will become perennials with time. I hope so.

Every day there is a moment...

I've learned to look forward to these random times amidst the chaos of everyday life-a moment where it all stops and there is just pure happiness and peace. The latest occurrence happened yesterday when we were driving home from Gramma's house and listening to music in the car. I had the girls with me and London was rocking out in her car seat, then she starts moving the arms and legs of her stuffed leopard beanie baby and says "leopard is dancing" with a big smile on her face! I totally laughed and knew there was no better place in the world at that time than our car. She beamed back at me through my rear-view mirror.

When the day starts off hard or I'm in a funk, I stop and remind myself that a moment will show up unexpectedly just like a rainbow and fill our lives with light and hope.

Zoe is a riot herself in a different way. She rolls from her back to her stomach and then gets stuck which causes her to start squawking at me for help. In the morning, she wakes up and starts fussing a bit and when I walk over to her bassinet, she gives me this huge gummy smile which is utterly irresistable. I pick her up and we start our adventure...