I couldn’t keep myself from making promises

I don’t really want to talk about resolutions. I didn’t really make any. But what I AM trying to get better at is making long and short-term goals for myself and for my family. I want to learn how to focus on the small aspects of a much bigger picture. The baby steps toward a big dream instead of tripping over my own insecurities and life’s roadblocks.

During the Great Broken Blog of 2014 I let a lot of things go here. I don’t know that I needed the break, I think I had just made it way too hard. It was much easier to hide behind the brokenness. The fixing of all things broken reminded me how much I like it here.

So while I didn’t make any resolutions, I did make a promise to myself and how I wanted to keep track and remember this year. Some people keep jars that they fill up with memories or good times, I just now have my little space here. Again.

But if I was keeping a jar? This picture would be the second thing I put in there. (The first being the picture from yesterday.) And in some way, I would try to explain how much I love that she still loves taking pictures with me and being silly with me. Loving that she is one of my favorite humans and knowing that I just might be one of hers, too.

Me and Beezus NYE
Me and Beezus NYE

Please know that I might suck at this new way of doing things. But that’s not gonna stop me from trying. Not anymore. If it’s pictures, if it’s words…it doesn’t matter. There is just way too much I want to remember.

Hold on to That Feeling

IMG_2759.JPG

I don’t think I have ever looked out at a brand new year with such anticipation. As mysterious as the future 365 days can be at the turn of the new year, I’m all too aware of some of the things that this new year will bring. Some very important ends and some very ‘big deal’ beginnings. For all of us. Even if each of us are experiencing it all in different ways.

I guess you could say that I’m way more prepared than I was this time last year. But I am absolutely not READY by any stretch of the imagination.

However, ready or not…here it comes, right?

* * *

We had a wonderful time celebrating the New Year. It was low-key and wonderful and hilarious and silly. It was what we all needed, I think. (I can’t wait to tell you about Houdini lobsters.)

I had no intention of creating a year-end collage/video for us. I was pretty dang content with grabbing that family picture we took last night. (I mean, I kinda love it.) But this morning, as I’m scrolling through everyone’s pictures and favorite moments, I just started pulling pictures together of some of my favorite memories from this year. There were some definite rough spots throughout the year but I, thankfully, didn’t have many pictures to reminded me of those. (Except for the picture of me and the huge spoonful of mashed potatoes. That was a funny response to a pretty bad day/week.)

All of a sudden I had many, many pictures of some of my favorite moments from this past year. Some of the very best days with some of the very best people on the planet.

I can’t wait for the best days that are coming. Even though I know how hard some of these best days are going to be. This is a big year for us. I’m excited and terrified and everything in between. I apologize in advance for the emotional roller coaster I will surely be on. It’s gonna be a wild ride and, honestly, I can’t wait. It’s gonna be amazing.

Happy New Year, everyone. xoxo

Trips and Updates and…Yeah

Remember that time when we drove down to SoCal almost every weekend this past fall? We got so damn good at making that trip in one weekend. And there was even a trip where it felt like a vacation? I mean, you probably don’t remember because I haven’t really written about it yet. I don’t really know why except…well, remember all those times we drove down to SoCal and nothing else got done? Yeah. That.

carselfie

It’s not very often that I get huge amounts of one-on-one time with each of my kids. Oddly enough, all these trips forced that to happen. There was even a weekend where only ¾ of us went. We missed Ramona something fierce. But there was also this special time with Beezus. For that I will always be grateful. It couldn’t have come at a better time.

mom and kid beach

I felt really guilty that Ramona wasn’t with us. The entire weekend I worried about having a good time when she wasn’t there. But…then I remembered that she is going to have A LOT of quality time with her parents fairly soon. I’m sure she will wistfully remember the days when she had a regular partner in crime and will long for the days when she didn’t have all eyes on her for all the hours of all the days. This quality time was absolutely for a reason.

kid

It was the funniest weekend get-away. I found myself having time enough for a run-and running into Chelle. Who is one of the reasons that I even run in the first place.

endoftheroad

 

chelle

I was able to hug Tonya and say hello to the kiddos…even for a short time.

Tonya!

Sancho’s Tacos. Yum.

tacos!

 

I even got to hang out with this guy. I like him.

us

Oh yeah…Softball was played. That was a thing.

the game

And, you know, the beach was there too. Man, I love the beach you guys.

beach

 

 

* * *

She didn’t get into Stanford, you know. It is very much okay and we truly know that she will go to school exactly where she’s supposed to go. But damn. I just wanted that for her, you know? And, of course, it doesn’t mean that she can’t go there ever. She could always do her graduate studies there. I don’t know, maybe she could camp out on their campus for fun. I’m sure that’s not frowned upon at all. Getting arrested at Stanford is totally the same thing as graduating from there!

I’m not sure if you’ve noticed, but I have a really hard time accepting that I’m not in charge of all the things. The not knowing and the not being able to plan is REALLY hard. The UC’s and the CSU’s don’t give you an answer until spring. THAT’S A LONG TIME FOR ME TO WORRY ABOUT HOW FAR AWAY MY KID WILL END UP FOR SCHOOL. Or whatever. I don’t know. This is hard.

But damn, I just like them a lot.

fambeach

 

And just because I’m ridiculous…I really like this one, too. Just in case you didn’t know that. She’s just super damn cute and my gosh she’s probably going to hate being the only kid at home pretty soon. ::sigh::

me and the kid

 

Parallel

I just finished watching an episode of Gilmore Girls. Don’t act like you’re so surprised. Netflix has given us all the gift of Gilmore Girls and, therefore, it is our Netflix-given duty to watch each episode. Don’t kid yourself; you probably just finished watching a GG episode, too.

Also, if you believe that I’ve only watched ONE episode of Gilmore Girls I probably have a bridge to sell you.

But here’s the thing…this episode? It was the one where Rory got a ‘D’ on her test and she questions all the things about going to Chilton and if she can take it. And then she stays up all night studying for her test and then she oversleeps and misses her test and she completely loses it on her class. And then Lorelei tries to help and ends up losing it a little bit on the teacher and the dean. She tries to get them to let Rory take the test anyway because Harvard dreams, you guys!

Then Lorelei talks to Rory and says she doesn’t have to keep going to Chilton and she can go back to her old school. Lorelei begins to question the Harvard dreams asking Rory if this is what she really always wanted or was it Lorelei that started this dream because she never had the big college experience.

I don’t have anything to add to this right now. Mostly I just wanted you to know about that particular Gilmore Girls gut punch. Also that those worries sometimes apply to Stanford and Berkeley and IB programs and softball. We should also have a conversation about the fact that me watching Gilmore Girls at this phase in my life will lead to other gut punches and blog posts. I fully expect to not have any friends by this time next year.

By the way, Rory assures her mom that the Harvard dreams are really what she wants. It was all she ever wanted.

I choose to believe her.

I’ve been writing this post for four days…and 17 years

I don’t think I was expecting to celebrate the morning of my 17th wedding anniversary finalizing (and scrutinizing) my kid’s Stanford early action application. We had gone over it several times. But somehow, the thought of hitting the ‘submit’ button made all of us want to triple and quadruple check everything. Every essay, every question. Was everything the way it needed to be?

You can drive yourself crazy wondering if you did everything right. I mean, the Stanford version of right.

stanford

But then…it’s done. It’s sent. We are so freaking proud of that kid. And no matter what, we know that she will end up EXACTLY where she is meant to be. Stanford or not.
***

I find it completely strange and wonderful and extremely fitting that the very first college application was filed on our anniversary. It wasn’t burdensome. It felt completely normal…like, this is what we do! A few hours later, after the kids shuffled off to their various locations, The Dude and I sat down at the bar waiting for our table. As we watched the bartender make our drinks, and we were finally settling down from the day’s events we kinda looked at each other and I said,

“Our kid just applied to…Stanford. How the hell did THAT happen???!”

We both shook our heads and my husband ordered us both scallop shooters. Of course.

photo 2

***

Before college applications, before the sun was even up, I got up and got dressed in my running clothes. My husband was still sound asleep when I whispered that I was leaving. He grabbed my hand to pull me back for a hug, whispered “Happy Anniversary” and promptly fell back asleep. After all this time, me leaving when it’s still dark out, even on our anniversary, to go on a run with Sarah is completely normal.

photo 1

That’s one of my favorite things about us. Our life is insane and full of chaos…but some of the most “normal” things make everything else fit right in. Like there’s room for everyone and everything has a place. Even if that place is tucked into a cupboard or on the very tip-top of a shelf, we’ll find a place for it all. All the chaos. All the people we love. Even all the things we need to do. We’ll get to it. We always seem to.

Photo by the oldest child in Huntington Beach
Photo by the oldest child in Huntington Beach

Going with the flow without getting swept up in the current is a big part of who are and how we live. But (really) hard work and epic stubbornness is how we’ve been able to float along together for 17 years.

The Mama and the Girls Photo by Sarah Maren Photography
The Mama and the Girls
Photo by Sarah Maren Photography

We had to fight like hell to make it. Not very much has been easy – especially in the beginning. (Hell, the first 10-12 years.) But being able to roll with the punches, and giving a lot of ‘em right back, is how we’ve survived. We’ve never given up.

The Dad and the Girls Photo by Sarah Maren Photography
The Dad and the Girls
Photo by Sarah Maren Photography

Maybe it’s because we just celebrated our 17th anniversary, maybe it’s because we’ve reached this parenting milestone where one of our kids is applying to colleges, but when I get to focus on just how far we’ve all come…WHOA, you guys. I’m proud of it.

Us...photo by Sarah Maren Photography
Us…photo by Sarah Maren Photography

 

I’m just so damn proud of it all.

Photo by: Sarah Maren Photography
Photo by: Sarah Maren Photography

 

broken and fixed and life

I can’t figure out how to fix my mobile site after I broke all the things last month. I am just that good at breaking things. Sadly, breaking things isn’t something most of us can put on our resumes. Unless you break shit for a living and, maybe, I should look into a job like that.

So…yeah. I’m trying to fix the things that are broken on this website.

Until then, hopefully you’ll still stop by every now and then on your regular old computer. Which is probably the internet equivalent of me sending you a typed letter via owl. But whatever. We can’t ALL be super good at all the things, you guys.

Besides breaking things. Of course.

Seventh grade and senior years are going really well so far. These kids of mine seem to have a shitton of homework at all times and I almost feel bad for them. Mostly, I feel bad for me because homework all the time means I need to be a responsible parent and not let them watch tv or hang out with friends all the time. It also means that every so often, The Dude and I get roped into projects and other things that make our brains hurt a lot. Especially when you add that to all the other crap that senior year brings. College nights and applications and a bunch of little things that make us feel like we’re doing most things way too late or totally wrong and, sometimes, a little bit right.

I know this is ridiculous, but I’m legit proud of how well I’ve been holding up the first month or so of senior year. I’m not saying I should win any awards for stalwart mothering, but I haven’t completely lost it. Not even once. Not even when these arrived in the mail.

prtraits

The Dude has had a couple of moments that nearly broke my pretend stoic behavior. Like when I texted him pictures during her yearbook/senior portrait session and his response nearly knocked the wind out of me. He’s not usually the one who is blasted by this kind of thing. I took a turn acting like I was completely fine with all of it.

I try not to do it very often, but there are times when I can’t help but wonder what this time next year will look like. It’s weird to think about only one of our kids living at home. I know we’ll be fine, but do you get used to that? Is it weird to let the dog have her room once she leaves?

Don’t answer that.

I’m not going to let the dog have her room. Probably.

Deadlines for early applications are right around the corner. There is so (SO!) much to do and get ready for, I feel like I’m going to blink and it will be Christmas and we’ll know (for better or for worse) if she got accepted or if we pick up and start applying to her plan B and C and D schools. More than anything, it’s just really weird that this is our life right now. Awesome, but weird.

* * *

I wrote all of that earlier thinking that I would get it all finished and set to post this evening. About an hour ago, I got a text message from that senior in high school from her friend’s house as they build their last homecoming float. She mentioned how much fun she was having but how it was a little sad that this was their last homecoming together. And yeah…I cried all the way home from the grocery store, so all those things that I wrote about me being okay is sort of a lie. Well, it’s less true than it was before an hour ago anyway.

But I’m going to be fine. Really. I’ll keep saying that until we all believe it.

this is mostly just for me

Sometimes I forget that this space here is mine.

I mean, you all are welcome here in this space at any time. You don’t even have to take off your shoes and I won’t even be mad if you eat all of my cheese. But I keep forgetting that it’s up to me what goes here. I don’t have to make it look like anyone else’s space. It might even smell funny sometimes. (I’ll try to work on that, though. Febreeze up the place every now and then.)

But it is mine. And it really is ok that I make myself a little more at home here. Hang a few more pictures on the wall and walk around in my underwear sometimes. Just kidding! I’ll always wear a robe. Probably yoga pants.

Let’s be honest: it will always be yoga pants and a t-shirt/tank.

* * *

mom n dad

My parents celebrated their 40th wedding anniversary on Sunday. I sure like them a lot and I’m glad that their insane enough to have five kids and that they still like each other after all this time. They have this amazing family and a whole lot to be proud of.

* * *

p & a

These two went to a Stanford game on Friday night. For a few minutes, it almost felt like it will once she’s off at college. I was sad and excited and then sad again. I had avoided Rob Lowe and his words for many days because I knew I’d be a mess after reading them. (I was.) So it’s no surprise that I was a bit more aware of all the feelings.

p

I’m so damn proud of all her hard work. I hate that I can be such a wreck about this. I’m already so annoying about this. (I’M SORRY.) I only write about it when I’m not holding it together. I really am fine most of the time. Except for when I read about Rob Lowe and then all bets are off and she’s never leaving me ever.

* * *

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But then prom happened. How on earth is this classy chick my kid? Do you KNOW what I looked like at my prom? NOT LIKE THIS. Mostly because I didn’t go to my proms. But even if I did, I wouldn’t have looked like this. She’s just so…cool.

Although, mad props to her Fairy Godmother (aka: Sarah) for being the make-up (and hair) magician. It was all quite fabulous from start to finish.

Ramona took it upon herself (and nagging me to curl her hair) to get dolled up. I’m not sure if she was expecting to take some pictures with her sister, but…well, the two of them made my heart explode into a million pieces. It was a huge mess in the driveway. But seriously with these two.

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How did I get to be so lucky?

* * *

While in Atlanta, Dove gave the attendees a bag full of goodies at the beginning of the conference and encouraged us to take a couple of notepads that we could use to leave notes for our kids. I loved the idea. LOVED it. Except, my kids beat me to the punch and hid it in my planner in the space for this week.

dove

I always knew I wanted to be a mom but these kids of mine are more than I could’ve ever imagined. It is hard and frustrating and maddening and did I mention hard? It really is all of those things. But it is also amazing and wonderful and the best thing ever.

On Mother’s Day I spent part of the morning thinking about the hard side of mom life. The times when you feel like you’re doing everything wrong and nothing makes sense. You have no idea how to fix it or make it better, you just know that you should. But even as my heart hurt for the times when kids are jerks or when I’ve lost my cool, I wouldn’t change a thing. I wouldn’t go back in time and take it all back. I would do all the hard all over again because I wouldn’t be who I am today without experiencing all of it. We wouldn’t be the us we are without it.

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* * *

Have a great week everyone. Next time, you host. We eat all the cheese at your house next.

 

Why You Should Never Use the Olympics to Keep Track of Time

My husband and I watched the closing ceremonies of the Olympics last night. I know that you are completely shocked by us watching anything Olympics, but sometimes we actually do watch TV together. (If this was an email or text, this would be the part where I’d put a winking smiley face.)

With the 2014 Winter Olympics now over, there were segments about the next (2018) Winter Olympics and, of course, the 2016 Summer Olympics.

You can’t help but think about where you’ll be in the next two or four years. (I have A LOT of Olympic watching to schedule into my life, folks.) How old will I be? How old will my kids be?

Sigh.

Yeah…THAT question.

For the 2016 Summer Olympics, Beezus will be home for the summer from her first year away at college. Ramona? Yeah Ramona will be getting ready to start her first year of high school. HIGH. SCHOOL.

The next time we see the Winter Olympics? Beezus will be 20. TWENTY. Ramona will (theoretically) be driving.

My head didn’t even have time to explode. It fell clean off.

This is why no one likes math. Once you learn to count, it’s all over. Counting things make you realize how awful it is to use the Olympics as a measurement of time. Or to track parenting years and milestones. It’s horrifying. I began to rethink my love for all things Olympics.

I couldn’t even help myself. When all these montages that felt like time machines floated across my TV, I looked at my husband and said “Beezus is going to be home from her first year of college when it’s time for the summer Olympics.”

He stared straight ahead at the TV for a bit and then said, “That is so sad.”

I sometimes forget how hard this is on the papas, too.

Maybe it’s good that the Olympics are over. We’ve been…obsessed. Our TV has been on so much, I think my brain is beginning to ooze out my ears. I’m also way too emotionally involved in all these athletes. And yes, Olympic math makes you realize just how fast time will fly. I don’t need any other reminders.

I can torture myself without any help, thank you.

Touring The Farm

So, okay…I’ve stepped outside almost every comfort zone I have this past week. A week ago today, we (softly) launched Cap City Moms. And, well, I’m ridiculously excited and proud of this community of mamas we’re working towards. We’ve made some pretty big plans. And I can’t wait to tell you more.

But this morning, I find myself reeling a little bit from yesterday.

Stanford University - Hoover Tower
Stanford University – Hoover Tower

You would be proud of me. I was very well behaved, believe it or not. I didn’t cry once during the admissions tour and meetings. I didn’t cry when we toured the campus. And I mean, there we were…at STANFORD. Doing the college tour things like we’re supposed to. At MY first choice for her. (And her dad’s first choice for her. And HER first choice…for her.) My big brained child would do well there. It’s hard to get in. But I think she has a pretty good chance.

And she would do so well there. It would be so good for her.

It would also be good for me.

Stanford University - Memorial Church
Stanford University – Memorial Church

I feel like it’s far enough away that she could “go off to school” and have the college experience I am so hoping for her. But it’s close enough that The Dude and I can take off after work one day and take her and her roommates to dinner. (I don’t know…I just figured this would totally be something we would do.) (I promise to not do this super often. I mean, I think I promise.)

It IS Rival Week.
It IS Rival Week.

And honest to goodness I was excited. My goodness, it’s beautiful there. The campus is ginormous, but I could picture her having a blast there. I was so glad we toured with one of her best friends. The two of them were so excited. Not to mention, adorable.

These two. Adorable, yes. Also, ginormous brains
These two. Adorable, yes. Also, ginormous brains

I didn’t cry. Not once.

Well, not until we were almost home at least.

I knew she was overwhelmed by the day. As excited as she was, she couldn’t believe that college wasn’t so far away. Even though we keep talking about it, being on campus and touring made it a lot more real.

For all of us, really.

You guys, I’m just so proud of her. I couldn’t stop thinking about how proud of her we are. And then how proud I am of our family.

And then I told her. And then I cried.

And then she cried.

But it was more from being overwhelmed, I think, than sad or worried or scared. I think it was just a lot for us to take in. A lot to process.

I’m still reeling. And probably more overwhelmed by it than I care to admit.

But I left yesterday knowing that she’s going to be so awesome wherever she ends up going. She’s going to thrive. She’s going to have a blast.

I know (I KNOW) I’m going to be a mess when the time finally arrives.

But you guys? I think we’re all going to be just fine. Really.

stanford

Bucket List Dilemma

updated 10/1/13
updated 10/1/13

 

When I told my family I was making a College Bucket List, some of them were more helpful than others in coming up with ideas. The Dude offered “Trip to New York”.

 “I already have that one,” I said.

“Oh. Well, then I don’t know. I’m going to have to think about it.”

As far as I know, he’s still thinking.

Beezus had a couple of ideas. But they were mostly things that I had already put on the list, too.

Except for one thing.

My daughter wants to go on a shopping spree with me. For me. Because I don’t shop for myself. And I’m terrible at shopping. Not because I don’t like new things…but because I hate rifling through clearance racks and sale items. I would much rather have my shopping done for me. And since I can’t afford that style of shopping, I go without. Or avoid shopping all together. The idea of Bargain Shopping stresses me out, and so I don’t do it.

And my daughter wishes that I did. She wishes that I would go shopping with her.

It’s kinda adorable, really. Adorable and sweet and generous and cute. She’s all of those things…and it made me all verklempt that she wanted to add this shopping trip to our Bucket List. And not because she wanted it all for HER…she wanted to do this for ME. And then of course, “get a couple of things while we’re out and about.”

I mean, of course.

But as adorable as she is and this is, I felt guilty. I avoid this shopping stuff because it’s not a comfortable experience for me. It stresses ME out. So I avoid it. I don’t love my body shape. So I avoid it. I can’t afford to shop in the way that’s most comfortable for me. So I avoid it. (And, for the record, I hated shopping when I was practically a stick figure kind of skinny. I was a gangly teenager. Who wants to show THAT off?) (OMG I WOULD SO TOTALLY SHOW THAT OFF RIGHT NOW.)

My point in all this is that I need to find a way to be comfortable with myself if I’m going to teach my daughters how it’s done. If I can’t be an example of being comfortable in my own skin, why would expect them to be?

I don’t have an answers and I’m not really asking for them, either. I’m just trying to figure my shit out. Because you have no idea how important it is to me to cross these things off the Bucket List.

I mean, after I actually add that one onto the list, of course.