6.30.11

I think I'm stating the obvious here: being a mom is a never ending adventure.


My vocalized words these days involve gems like:

• We don't play with the toaster!
• Do you want waffles or oatmeal? Ok, waffles, oatmeal or eggs? Ok, waffles, oatmeal, or eggs or chocolate covered fruit loop dinosaurs? Oh you want the dinosaurs? The thing I just said that doesn't exist? Awesome.
• I'll give you an M&M if you pee pee in the potty!
• We don't put sand on dogs!
• If you run into the dogs with your truck, the truck gets a timeout!

My actions these days involve acrobatics like:

• Putting my hand on top of my head while crowing like a rooster...while driving.
• Flipping my kid around and around and upside down to disorient him long enough to get him into the cart at Target.
• Super human arm grabs to keep Will from teetering and toppling off of the edges of everything.

And so it was only appropriate that I ended this month of adventure by taking Will swimming with the yogamamas and their kids.

Have you ever changed a swim diaper full of number two? Don't answer that. Cringe if you know what I'm talking about.

So that was us tonight. 

I put him in dry clothes. My bad.

He went right back into the pool.

So then we ran around naked. 

And I tell this story, these adventures, with somewhat of an exasperated exhaustion. Mainly because it's 8:30, and after a glass of wine (okay, two glasses), I am exasperated and exhausted. 

But like most things with kids, I wouldn't trade a single moment of it--not a single laugh, a single cry, a single exasperated sigh--for any other adventure in the world.

Here we are, in our "dry" clothes...

...and the resorted to "nakedness"...

July's intention is...

6.29.11

Tonight's post is about an adventure that took place a long time ago.


I had an early morning doctor's appointment today (because google told me I was dying. I'm not. And I seriously need to stop googling.), and Will and I didn't have any plans, so we decided to find my dad. 


After trying a few places, we finally located him at home (should have checked there first!). 


He made a fresh pot of coffee, just for me, and he and I watched the Today show while Olivia played with Will. We critiqued Ann Curry's new role, talked about how old (but still attractive on my end) Matt Lauer looks, and caught up on the little things in our own everyday lives.


It was just like old times. 


"Old times" for me is when I lived with him right after college. My mom had already moved to New York, and I was still deciding what to do. He needed a nanny and I needed a place to sleep. It was a deal. 


Those two years hold some of my favorite memories with him. After all, I hadn't truly lived with my dad on a daily basis since I was nine. It was somewhat magical, rebuilding our father-daughter bond.


Which is ironic, because right around 9:30 this morning, Al Roker did a segment on strengthening father-daughter relationships. 


My dad doesn't know this (although he will after he reads this), but one of my most favorite father-daughter memories with him is from when I was thirteen or fourteen. 


I was a terrible soccer player--I wasn't strong, big, or fast--but I thought through my plays, which made me smart, and probably kept me on teams longer than I should have been. 


We were playing in a tournament in West Virginia--the Sternwheel Regatta--and instead of it being a family affair, it was just me and my dad.


The drive through the mountains in his Volvo wagon was rainy and dark. For the majority of the four-hour car ride, we listened to Phil Collins' ...Hits. album. I loved the trumpets in "Something Happened on the Way to Heaven," and we rewound the cassette tape over and over again. 


The team chose to stay in a crappy Motel 8. It had disgusting red carpet, which I remember falling asleep on at some unheard of early hour (7:30 perhaps?), exhausted from the two games we'd played that day. I remember my dad waking me up to tuck me into bed.


I also remember waking up the next morning and being promised twenty bucks if I scored a goal that day. The competition at the good ol' Sternwheel Regatta wasn't all that fierce. It was doable. 


And when I scored that goal...


...I didn't care about the twenty bucks. I made my dad proud.


Phil Collins carried us back to Cincinnati, and I'm pretty sure I went on to be the typical disinterested teenager. Although that adventure is long passed, it's one I hold on to and think back on fondly. 


Thanks for the coffee this morning dad. Thanks for all of the adventures.




























Congratulations to "Little Off North" for winning this month's giveaway! 

6.28.11

This afternoon, as Will played with leftover patio pavers and I distractedly studied my Ayurveda texts, this little guy hopped a ride in the Chocolate Lab Express, otherwise known as Fisher's mouth.

Fisher dropped him off, completely unscathed, right at the deck door.

I didn't even see him until I heard Will saying repeatedly, "Ew! Ew! Ew!" And when I finally looked up and asked what on earth was so gross, he declared "Turtle mama!" 

So we went through what a frog was. It goes jumpy-jumpy and says ribbit-ribbit.

And suddenly I had to be very present. 

I kept the three dogs from stepping on, licking, and otherwise eating Mr. Frog. To be honest, they were fairly disinterested. I think he was just a gift to me in the first place, as though Fisher knew I just really needed a frog to complete my day. 

Will was fairly disinterested as well. In fact, he spent more time trying to pick up the ants on the deck then he did the frog. He did say, "Hi frog!" every time he walked by, which I thought was rather considerate of him. You know, make the frog feel welcome.

When Greg came home, he immediately picked up the frog to save him from 12 furry legs and two oblivious toddler legs. But Will wouldn't touch him unless I would. 

I'm not sure why I didn't want to touch the frog. The bumps on its back perhaps? 

So I did. Because I'm a mom. And that's my job. 

After that Will was all about him, touching and cooing and jumping around the frog. I was grateful he didn't attempt to give him a kiss as he does with all other animals. Not sure this one would have turned into a prince or a princess.

We said bye-bye to Mr. Frog and put him back in the garden.

The adventure ended as we jumpy-jumpy'd back into the house.

Tomorrow is it, dear blog friends. I'll give away $25 at noon. I realize $25 isn't much in this economy, but it's something, and it's free, and you get to use it wherever you feel adventure awaits! Let's hear your intentions! Click here and tell us.

6.27.11

Dear eggs,


I know that someday I might forget the minor details: the raspberry filling in the cake; the purple potato pizza; the moves to the Oops! I did it again dance; the champagne toasts; the smell of the roses and peonies; the fact that our air conditioner broke that morning; the U2 song that played as we left the ceremony.


But I won't forget the way the sunlight streamed into the studio as I walked down the aisle to  embark on this adventure together as husband and wife. 


Happy Anniversary.
Love you equal and forever, 
keek

6.26.11

This is not my most exciting post. 


Feeling adventurous at the grocery store tonight, I picked up some new things to try. I've heard yogis rave about coconut water, so I bought a small pouch of it. And then I really went out on a limb and purchased almond milk. 


Now, I don't do milk. From the age that I first started speaking, I called the stuff "Blech!" 


But I'd heard that there was this delicious dark chocolate almond milk, and I thought, "Perhaps this will make me start calling milk 'Yum!'" 


I was right. It is Yum. It's the perfect chocolate fix. I should have jumped on this bandwagon long ago. 


Don't forget about this month's giveaway! You have until this Wednesday at noon! Click here for all of the details! 

6.25.11

I finished mowing the lawn today, and since Will was sleeping and Greg was hauling a bunch of moldy wet wood to the dump (darn basement still floods), I was left in a conundrum...


...pull weeds? Or pull up all the patio pavers to reset them?


It was truly a "Choose Your Own Adventure" novel moment. I turned to page 63 and chose...


...pull up all the patio pavers and reset them! 


Why spend 5 minutes pulling weeds when you can spend two full days getting a full body workout moving bricks? 


So this brings me to June's giveaway! 


In honor of the "Choose Your Own Adventure" theme, you will be winning a $25 gift card and YOU get to pick your adventure! Try a new restaurant, shop at a new store, find a new book--it's all about being adventurous! 


All you need to do to win is make sure you're a follower, and then in the comments to this post, tell me where you'd spend $25 and why! Be creative and daring and...adventurous! I'll pick one winner (randomly selected by randomizer.org) on Wednesday, June 29th at 12:00 noon (EDT).

6.24.11

It was so nice to be a mom today. It was so nice to build block towers, and watch Elmo, and fold laundry, and channel my inner Giada and pack a picnic for our evening excursion.


We took the evening hours to go to Coney and ride the rides. Talk about a first-time adventure for Will. 


The first ride went like this. What you probably can't tell is that he is screaming and crying hysterically.

Considering the ride was for tots his age, I was concerned that the seat belt smelled like vomit. I could walk faster than that ride went. That's some serious motion sickness. I was, however, grateful that the seatbelts can't be unfastened without a key from the disinterested teenaged boy checking out the girl working the choo choo trains ride operator


The second ride was a bit more fun. Probably because mom and dad rode it with him. And boy did the Scrambler make us feel old. Remember when rides were fun and didn't make you feel like you were inebriated? 

The merry-go-round was only exciting because of the horsies. 

But the slide--that was the best. In fact, it was so good we did it twice.

And for dinner...

Cucumber, celery and green onion salad with homemade blue cheese dressing; and polenta cakes with tapanade. All that was missing were the cameramen filming us talking about the food. 


What a lovely Friday night adventure.

6.23.11

It was a whirlwind--and rather uneventful--adventure traveling back to Ohio today.


Tonight I got off a plane at eight, and by nine, I was sitting in a rocking chair with an almost-2-year-old in my lap, and three dogs at my feet. 


Corduroy was the bedtime story of choice. 


At the end of the story, Corduroy says, "I think this is home." 


That little bear in green overalls said it best.

6.22.11

It's almost time to pack it up and pack it in. This European Adventure is almost through. 

Things I'll miss about Europe...

1. Coffee

2. Gelato...two times a day

3. Pastries

4. La Boqueria

5. The slow pace of life in Spain

6. The scarf weather in Paris

7. The walking community that is a major European city

Things I won't miss...

1. Inhaling cigarette smoke while I eat, while I walk, while I shop, while I do anything

2. Car alarms and clock towers that ring and chime at 4 a.m.

3. Gelato...two times a day (my hips and thighs are oh so sad!)

4. Clutching my belongings so no one steals them

5. Spending money on adorable clothes (well, my checking account won't miss this anyway)

6. Paying to use a public restroom

But what I am really looking forward to, more than anything--what I'm counting down the hours to (as I post this we are at 28 hours!)--is hugging and loving on my boys. Adventures are good. Going home is better. 

P.S. I sun saluted 32 times today. It was therapeutic and lovely and exactly what one should do alongside the Mediterranean Sea (right after sunning, and sipping sangria). 

6.21.11

Aaaaaaah...longest day of the year. 


Summer solstice is a time of great energy--particularly from the sun. It's an opportunity to harness the vibrations and use them to your benefit. 


Tomorrow morning, the plan is to get up and do 32 sun salutations. (It's only the plan--an intention, if you will--because who knows how many sangrias the evening holds). I chose thirty-one since this is my thirty-first year. I'll tell you why I chose thirty-two at the bottom.


Each sun salutation will be an intake of energy as I choose to make some transitions in life. They aren't major life changes; merely baby steps as I take this opportunity to continue to grow. 


There was a time about ten years ago when I actually said out loud, "I've done enough changing this year. I think I'm finished for awhile." The thought is laughable now, as every moment is a changing moment--every breath brings in something new and lets go of something old. 


But this year in particular, I feel some big changes coming. The life adventure is taking a turn, beginning to follow some new paths. I don't think it's a coincidence that this is summer solstice. Once again, I hear you Universe. 


Do you feel the energy? Are you noticing yourself making subtle changes in thoughts and actions? No need to publicly put them out there...just things to note for yourself.


My thirty-second sun salutation will be for you, sweet friends and family, readers who are strangers and yet oh so familiar. I send the energy to you.


P.S. I know two people who just agreed to make one of the sweetest transitions together. :o) Love to Beth and Jake!

6.20.11

Tonight, I am blogging from here.

It's the view from our balcony in Sitges, Spain. 


And although I didn't visit any European holy places today, I still had an epiphany.


Maybe it's the fact that the children and their chaperones boarded a plane at 8 a.m. and I boarded a bus for the beach.


Maybe it's the sunny skies, aqua water, soothing waves, and visions of palm trees.


Maybe it's just this glass of sangria. 


The thing is, we are on this life adventure for one thing: to find happiness.


My iPod found "Dog Days" while I lounged on the beach, and the smiling wouldn't stop. 


Happiness...hit her...like a train on a track...


I am happy here in Europe; I am happy at home. I'm happy with Greg and Will; with my dearest friends and my incredible family. I'm happy with what I choose to do with my work; I am happy with what I choose to do in my free time. I am happy with the amount of free time I have. I am happy writing, running, practicing yoga, meditating, sun shining, raining, sighing, sipping, meandering, guessing, tasting, singing, listening.


I am happy. 


Are you? 


If in this moment, right now on your adventure, you aren't happy, can you quick-stop and think of something that does make you happy? Stop dwelling on what's keeping you from it and revel in the things that make you smile. Did it help? Maybe a little.


Stuart and I (Stuart is my Spanish teacher friend and Stuart is a girl) found this spot today--literally, "the corner of tranquility."

Tranquil. Happy. (And proud to say, anxiety-free!)

6.19.11

Tomorrow, the kids go home.


Tomorrow, I begin my vacation. Three days on a beach, partaking in Spanish festivals (and Spanish Sangria!), a yoga class perhaps, and some definite deep breaths of warm sea air. I won't be counting heads, checking beds, or defining menus and signs for anyone but myself. Bliss.


But first, there was one last thing we had to do as a large group, and that brings us to our final tip on traveling with teenagers in Europe. 


14. If it's all about adventure, then you absolutely must walk your students through thousands of Spanish protesters, not once, but twice, as a cultural experience. 


This morning we took them to the beach, and then headed to the Picasso museum in the afternoon. When we came out, chaos had erupted. I haven't seen crazy like that since the Puerto Rican Day Parade I got caught in in NYC ten years ago! 


Today's protesters were peaceful; there were just so many of them. I'd estimate 10,000+ shut down the main streets in Barcelona and shouted with their signs and blew their whistles, all in regard to the economy and jobs (unemployment is at 20% here). 


We needed to meet our tour guide at a metro station at 6:00, and the only way to get there was to cross the protest route. So we held hands, made a chain, and dashed. It was symbolic, really--we took their hands, guided them safely, and they will look back on the experience fondly, with great stories to tell.


So the kids thought it was "cool." Their teachers thought it was "scary." I think we can all agree that it was the craziest ending to a European adventure.

P.S. To my husband: you are the most amazing, kind, caring, intelligent, funny dad that Will or I could ask for. We are beyond lucky, beyond blessed. I promise that I will be home next year on Father's Day...for the first time. :o)
To my own father: I may have inherited your square toes and stinky feet, but I sure am glad that I have your sense of humor and your love of good food. Talking to you brightens any day for me. I love you. :o)

6.18.11

First and foremost, a million thank yous to my sweet husband who came up with the idea of not letting my year of daily entries reach its first snag. His entry was lovely, and funny, and made me miss home that much more. 


But, back into the moment. I feel I should continue the tips, and we will start tonight with number...


9. Overnight train rides are for the birds. And other tiny creatures that aren't claustrophobic. Oddly enough, the kids weren't running back and forth to each other's compartments all night long like they usually do. However, despite our best efforts, 


10. someone left their passport pouch on the train. The good news? The passport was with our tour guide from the overnight border crossing. The bad news? All of her money was in the pouch. Fortunately there's just a lunch and some souvenirs left, and we will spot her the cash in the meantime (and for the record, I dole out money every. single. year. Why there is always an issue is beyond me). 


11. I have a secret. I prefer Spanish cuisine over the French stuff any day of the week. The pastries are pretty much the same, the ice cream is still gelato, and despite what the Frenchies might tell you, Spanish coffee is where it's at. I had two of these this morning...

Heaven. 


If a dear blog reader (or readers) would like to go in and anonymously send me an espresso machine, I would be madly in love with you for forever.


12. When in Barcelona, go to La Boqueria. It is my favorite every year. Within 30 minutes I had consumed fresh pineapple-coconut juice; dried kiwis, dried mangos, and dried strawberries; and a scoop of stracciatella gelato. 

Heaven. Part deux. Or dos, I suppose.


13. If you'll recall from tip number eight, it is very important to treat the teenagers like something other than teenagers. But it is also very important to let them be kids, and buy aviators and mini sombreros. 

There's a fine line between the two--walking it is always an adventure. 


P.S. There were going to be fabulous photos, buuuuuuut, due to 150 American teenagers in our hotel cramming the Wi-Fi to get onto Facebook, I don't have the patience to wait for it to uncram. So I'll add them tomorrow morning. 

Adventures From the Home Front (Greg Edition)

I couldn’t stand to see a streak go up in smoke just because someone has used up almost all of her megabytes of (expen$ive) international data emailing herself photos for this very blog. :)

I also quickly realized that this was going to be a lot more daunting task after I volunteered to write tonight. My wife certainly makes this look easy on a daily basis. She can pop one of these out in 15 minutes while sitting in front of the tv. I’ve probably wasted too much time at work just writing this opening.

My stand-in intention is to provide an update of the adventure on the home front while mom is away. I think Kristin and I both had some trepidation leading up to departure day. Kristin was concerned that a) the plane was going to crash and/or b) Will would somehow grow up in 10 days, forget his mama, speak fluent French (or worse, Spanish), be doing back flips in the yard and somehow solving differential equations. I am happy to report that her plane landed safely at Charles de Gaulle (as evidenced by her recent posts from across the pond) and Will is still the precocious almost two year-old still enchanted by Barney, big wooden puzzles, tormenting the dogs and eating goldfish crackers. We talked to mama the other night on speakerphone and hopefully, he’ll get to Skype once or twice this weekend (?). He is recognizing the letters of the alphabet at a 90% success rate, which impressed Grandma Nickol and I last night!

Speaking of Grandma Nickol… I think I was most worried about staying sane while Kristin was out of the country. This is the second year she has graciously volunteered to stay with us and entertain Will during the day (Ok, she also cooks and cleans and folds laundry for me as well. While some might cringe at the thought of spending the week alone with your mother-in-law, I have to say I don’t. I am very lucky to have an MIL that will drop everything and come baby-sit her grandson and son-in-law). The two days Will and I were by ourselves before she got here were some of the longest and most exhausting I’ve experienced since becoming a father. I have the utmost respect for those who single-parent on a full time basis.

So, back to the adventures on the home front… So far we have survived:

-          diaper rash that was probably caused by

-          teething (think the last bottom tooth has popped in)

-          a few minor temper tantrums probably caused by teething and the babysitter situation

-          one vomiting chocolate Labrador

-          one chocolate Labrador with diarrhea

-          no matches to light scented candles to counteract said vomiting and pooping Chocolate Labradors

-          one broken light switch in the brand new walk-in closet causing the brand new master suite circuit breaker to blow

-          said broken light switch replaced by one handy husband/father

All very minor things and we are almost to the halfway point of this adventure. Grandma is with us another three days. Kristin will return three days after that. Life will return to “normal”. Days will be filled with morning coffee and the Today Show Barney and trips to Coney Island and the zoo. We’ll both have a greater understanding of how we couldn’t possibly manage without the other.

Ok, that’s enough for me. The Brett Favre/Cal Ripken Jr.* of blogging hopefully returns tomorrow with a story of a midnight train ride adventure across the French and Spanish countryside!

* Brett Favre and Cal Ripken Jr. set the record for consecutive games played in the NFL and Major League Baseball

6.16.11

One more tip tonight from our adventure...


8. When showing kids new places, don't just tell. Ask. "What do you think?" "What's your view?" "How do you feel about it?" 


At the Musée D'Orsay today, I was exposed to some seriously intelligent thinking about art, simply by looking at my kids and saying, "What do you think?" 


So often we discount our teenagers (me included!), brushing them off as naive, immature, hormonal weirdos. 


I'm here to tell you it's just not so, friends. Validate them. Ask them. Help them on their adventure.


I'm also sad to report that despite my greatest intentions, there will not be a blog tomorrow. We will be going all day, on an overnight train, and there just isn't a way for me to do it (without costing myself lots of money by using my phone to do so). 


Please check back Saturday. :o)

6.15.11

Continuing my tips from last night...


4. It is absolutely okay to eat ice cream twice a day while in Europe, while with children, well, while anywhere, with anyone, doing anything. I highly recommend this gem--the apricot sorbet was divine--on the Île Saint Louis.

5. It is also absolutely okay to take back all your pity for the four girls who puked on the bus this morning when you find out it's because they were out all night drinking. Fortunately, they weren't from our group. Unfortunately, the smell was atrocious.


6. Even though you've seen it far more than the average person, it's still okay to take photos of it, and let your jaw drop because it's so freaking beautiful.

7. This number seven isn't really a tip so much as it is a little story. I needed to exchange some cash near Notre Dame, and a young man from another group needed to as well so we ventured together. At first, he thought I was a student. And then when I said I'd been to Paris umpteen times, he decided I was old. (Sad day!) Anyway, we were chatting away, and he was very inquisitive as to why I wanted to be a teacher. I talked too much about myself, really, so I started asking him questions about his life...which led to a rather sad tale, which I won't depress you with, but we exchanged our money, and on the way out he said, "Ha! What a cool Buddha!" 

I snatched that photo and on our way back to the cathedral, he continued his sad story. 


Once inside, he told me he wanted to be a surgeon. He had it all figured out that he needed to spend 13 more years in school and residency. 


At the time, I was taken away by the ethereal choral of voices that were coming from the altar of the cathedral, and my response to his surgical aspirations was a distracted, "Oh wow. Cool." 


"Well there's my group," he said. "Thanks for walking me back." 


I meandered a bit more and then decided to sit down within the nave. 


With the voices in my ear, I watched one man, his head leaning on the chair in front of him, as though his prayers were so desperate they exhausted him. 


I saw a woman, kneeling, looking up, tears streaming down her face. 


Epiphany number two in a European cathedral: what a blessed life you have. Your DailyOM today told you to be a comfort for others. You can't help the distraught man and woman in front of you, but there is someone you can. 


I glanced around for my friend, found him, and tapped him on the shoulder. 


"I was thinking," I said, "What kind of surgeon did you say you wanted to be?"


Teacher, mother, guide, nurse, friend, source of comfort--there are many roles to cover on this adventure.

6.14.11

Traveling to Europe with 8th Graders...Adventure Number Seven.
Tips:

1. Despite the fact that everyone wants to see the Moulin Rouge, it is still incredibly uncomfortable walking the teenaged boys through the Red Light District to get there. 

2. Turning the corner and seeing this for the first time through the eyes of 14-year-olds who have only seen it in books, movies, and aquamarine still makes me giddy for them.

3. No matter how many times I wander through incredibly old and holy places, I am still left with tingles and goose bumps at the incredible energy I begin to feel just stepping through the doors. My epiphany today: I feel this way because no one goes to church to pray for evil. And even though praying might not be my thing, I am incredibly honored to walk in the space where so many people bare their souls and set their intentions. 

6.13.11

And that Universe just keeps right on speaking! 


It probably would have made more sense to actually go take a yoga class this morning, given my emotional state the last few days, but instead, I taught. But as I've expressed before, sometimes teaching classes gives me more than I could ever ask for.


I subbed again this morning, and unbeknownst to me until afterward, I had a rock star yogi in my class--Yoga Dan. 


As I chatted with him after class he gifted me this attractive gem:

He said it's perfect enough that even the flight attendants won't bother me. 


So armed with my new Mindfold, perhaps half an Ativan, and Yoga Dan's good vibes, I think I'll be just fine on this adventure.


I am reminded constantly that if I live right here, right now, then there isn't anything else in the world that matters. Nothing. The only thing is the one that's right before me. No worries. Every little thing, well, it'll be alright.


Post No. 167 will be direct from Paris...

6.12.11

I subbed a class this morning and in search of a good savasana reading, I picked up a book I hadn't perused in awhile. You know how things fall into your lap just when you need them? Yeah, this book was probably screaming at me from my bag. 


"You NEED me! Pick me up! Do it! You won't regret it! I promise!" 


Notes from the Universe: New Perspectives from an Old Friend by Mike Dooley.


And it gave me gems like this.


You chose your dreams for the journeys they'd inspire, and you knew when you chose them that there'd be obstacles, dark days, and knuckleheads who'd stand in your way. They're part and parcel of where you're headed, and they don't just go away.


So when you face your next challenge, welcome it. Rise up, don't back down. See it as a stepping-stone, not a wall; a valley, not an abyss. And before you know it, as one is conquered after another, the journey will be complete, and the joy of manifesting your dream will pale in comparison to the satisfaction of your persevering, overcoming, and breaking through.


Don't you see these are the days, right now, mid-adventure, that will mean the most to you once your dreams come true? Enjoy.


And finally, this.


Your wishes are what the Universe wishes for you. Your thoughts steer the ship of your dreams. And no matter where you've "been," or how challenging your circumstances, right here and now is all that matters.


You are forever. Invincible. A Being of Light on an adventure of the highest order: to have fun and be happy in a magical, infinite, loving reality that conspires tirelessly in your favor; where thoughts become things, dreams come true, and all things remain forever possible.


And so this beacon of light will depart on an adventure tomorrow--probably the last one for awhile--but an adventure in which I will have fun and I will be happy. It's too draining to try and be anything else. :o)

6.11.11

First of all, thank you so very much for your emails, texts, and kind thoughts in regards to last night's post. I am, once again, filled to the brim with love.


So, this little detour for which there is no GPS (thanks for that line, JL) ...


There's been a little kink in this year's European adventure.


The kink is, I don't want to go. 


I am very aware that these trips are amazing, that I'm fortunate to have these opportunities--for myself, but moreso for the kids. 


And yet, ever since the three-foot-tall love bug Will came into my life, my fear of leaving him has intensified. 


No, my fear of dying and leaving him behind and not being able to watch him grow has intensified.


Cue the barrage of anxiety attacks that have plagued me for the last three days.


My fear of flying is so great right now, that I haven't slept but a few hours in the last 48. I'm up all night, mind racing, breath shallow, tears in my eyes, unable to calm myself down.


That's right. The yogi can't calm herself down.


I am admitting defeat. It's like I'm a phony yogi. And therein lies my truest embarrassment.


I have been afraid to put much of anything pharmaceutical into my body in the last few years. I suppose you could say I've taken a more homeopathic route to cure my illnesses and anything else pertaining to the body.


So when a few sweet friends (and yogis!) convinced me yesterday morning that it would be totally appropriate to maybe take a Xanax (or 3) to bring some peace to my overwhelmed mind, it was all I needed to get me to the doctor.


And now here I sit, blogging to the world about it, one little anti-anxiety pill now floating around my blood stream, hopefully on its way to my brain to slow down the gears. 


I'm thinking that come next week, I will look back on my current embarrassment and laugh--I am probably joining millions of Americans (and maybe even a few yogis) who have resorted to something man-made to calm the nerves.


Last night, among friends, I continued to cry, and I did have those three toasts, but I also talked freely and openly about it. And just talking about it made me feel that...much...better.


And then this afternoon I learned that my amazing niece, who is traveling in Spain for the next several days as well, is on my returning flights from Barcelona to Cincinnati. An immediate wave of relief washed over me. I will have something familiar there--something one step closer to Will.


There you have it. The shamed yogi who needs a good dose of her own medicine. Or a medicine prescribed by a doctor. 


So thanks for listening. Thanks for comforting. Thanks for taking the detour with me. And if you are judging, thanks in advance for not telling me about it. :o) 

6.10.11

Sometimes the adventure that is life takes bumpy roads and detours that you don't care to take.


Today put me on a path that I didn't think I'd ever be on--but the lesson is, don't discount anything, right?


I need to do some more sorting through these thoughts before I share. Tomorrow night's post I'll spill my beans. I'm thinking by sharing, I'll find that some of my dear readers have been here before. Maybe they will lend me their maps, so the detour goes a bit quicker. 


Tonight, I'm spending the evening the same way I spent the day: surrounding myself with friends I love, the ones who continuously pick me up, guide me, and offer comfort in oh so many ways. 


I raise my glass to them. And then maybe a second. And a third. Cheers. 

6.9.11

Tonight's post took a circuitous route to arrive to, so I'll retrace my steps for you. 


We spent the day doing lots of adventurous things, which were going to be my post anyway.


And then it all took on a deeper meaning.


I read a (very eloquent and oh-so-true) blog from a high school classmate. You can find it here. In a nutshell, how do you find zen in the insane moments of motherhood?


It led me to a book that my yogamama friend brought to me when Will was just a few weeks old.


Momma Zen: Walking the Crooked Path of Motherhood by Karen Maezen Miller.


I began to flip through it again this afternoon, and stopped at the self-discipline section--you know, the one that addresses why we lose "it" and shout words that would require a "pardon my french." We shout them out of frustration from our child who is behaving in ways that shorten our fuse. 


Things that didn't make sense in those early days clicked today. Buy the book if you're a mom. It'll change your perspective and approach; it'll transform that frustration into peace.


And then I continued flipping, and I continued to have my yogi self spoken to.


When I stop--really stop myself and see the world through the eyes of Will, where every moment is brand new, and every day is an adventure--at those moments, I am being the best parent I can be. 


Will is now five days removed from his babysitter (as a side note here, we are switching sitters in the fall, for a variety of reasons), and he is a different child. Scratch that. I am a different parent. 


It's almost as though we are being reacquainted. He is teaching me. I am patient. I listen. I stop and crouch down. I sit on the floor and I play. I even (gasp!) deleted the facebook app from my iPhone today--because it's not about me anymore.


These days are his adventures.


Today, Will led me through the aquarium. He ran with the penguins and squealed at all the fish.

He stared in awe at the jellyfish.

And I stared in awe with him.


When we got home, we had a backyard water party with his Uncle Jon and Aunt Olivia (and maybe even Future Aunt Katie). 

Today and every day is his adventure. And I'm so glad he picked me to take along for the ride. I'll just be sure to keep the zen book in my back pocket.