Prescription: Be self "ish"

I had a profound discovery today. I met with my Naturopath, turned whole health healer. She's a wonderful woman. Its been 3 years or so since I have seen her. We talk often because she can cure me across the miles. Some people think I'm crazy but I believe in her energy work. Afterall, she's cured me of every medical issue and helped me thru some of my most difficult times.

Today was more than I expected, which having been working with her for years, I should always expect the unexpected. We had a long discussion around the need for me to better take care of myself. I've never done a great job at that, I'd much rather take care of everyone else. Now, as a mom, I find it even harder to do. I'm either too exhausted, feel pressed for time or just plain feeling guilty. For the latter she replied in laughter, "oh honey, take it from a mom, get over that guilt thing now!"

Her cure for the healthy mom body:

• surround yourself with friends who have little kids to prove to yourself what you are going thru is normal
  
• take your vitamins and your herbs
  
• keep going to acupuncture
  
• meet with the energy chiropractor (not the snap, crackle & pop one)
  
• make time to have fun with your husband, in fact, schedule an overnighter SOON
  
• do yoga
  

I must have had a look of disbelief. Nothing she said (except the chiropractor) is anything my mom hasn't already told me.

"Why" she said, "Why don't you take better care of yourself?"

The answer was actually hard to come by. She already ruled out my first set of excuses. 

Then the aha moment. "I don't want people to think I'm selfish"

What I learned has changed my view completely. She said it simply. "Separate the word and what do you have "self" and "ish" By definition, it means a little bit about yourself." I immediately went to all things "ish" and not one of them have I ever looked at bad. Why society made this word so evil is beyond me. 

So I left convinced that Barbara has unlocked the key to happy moms around the world and perhaps this is indeed the mom cure to a healthier self :) Because, like my mom said, "if the mom ain't happy, ain't nobody  happy!"

Prescription: Be Self ish

I can do that!

Time Flies

One year ago today, we welcomed our sweet boy into this world. So tiny, so handsome, so precious. A year later, I look at this photo and can't help to wonder where the time has gone. This is a moment frozen in time. Yet when I study it, I am still there. Still present in the room- the sights, the sounds, the smells, the joy.

Everyone tells you how fast the time goes by. But like most things you don't really comprehend what that means until you are there yourself. Today, I am there. Today I cannot believe its already been a year. That tiny baby boy now a growing little boy. That still body wrapped tightly now fighting getting dressed. That serious face now always smiling. 

In so many ways, everything about him has changed. And in so many others, nothing has. His world is still full of wonder and discovery; a blank slate full of possibilities. Our promise to him when he was born is the wish we make again today on his birthday- to surround him with love, positive energy and laughter.  My promise to myself: live in the moment, cherish the seconds, and never forget time flies. 

Saturday Mornings

Traditions....

I grew up with traditions, some of the most special and memorable moments of my childhood were the traditions my parents started when we were kids. Many of them memories now as life has taken so many new turns. Its a constant reminder, though, of the responsibility I have as parent, to create new traditions with my husband. Traditions for Breck that he will cherish later, just like I do now. 

I've been obsessed lately about when I will start a tradition. Are they holidays? Do they start when he turns 1? Is it the summer vacation we took to Tofino or one we haven't even planned yet? When I saw this photo today, I realized traditions are indeed the little things, the simple and unexpected routines we overlook. Maybe traditions are not something you plan to happen again and again, they just do. 

And then it hit me. We have, in fact, our own tradition.

Every Saturday morning, Dave and I pack up Breck and Charlie and head to Alki for coffee at Pioneer and then off to the park down the street. We drink our coffee lounging in the chairs with Breck climbing all over us and both he and Charlie begging for a bite of our breakfast treat. We look at the water and remind ourselves how lucky we are to live here, in these moments, in this place, it feels like vacation.

Today was a new twist on a normal tradition- Fall. Gone are the shorts and t-shirts, replaced by signs of cooler days coming with hats, coats and sweaters. This is Breck at the park, in his swing he loves so much. He's loved swinging since he was born. It was the perfect Seattle Fall morning- blue sky, sunshine and cold. Even more special, Breck debuted his new hat made just for him his Nana-- my mom. 

I cant wait to see how this photo evolves overtime, documenting the dramatic change in Breck as he grows up, captured during an unchanging tradition, called Saturday morning.

For the love of Pumpkin Pie

Having a baby makes life's most basic tasks so very complicated. Everything takes 40 minutes longer than it used to. Daily accomplishments mean checking off one "to do" and not the whole list. It means loving your dirty hair and day old make-up because today left no other option. Everyday I discover one more thing thats not so easy to do anymore, one more wish for drive thru everything. But today was a new one: Pumpkin Pie

I've never liked pumpkin pie. I've always wanted to. You know, because its fall and thats what people eat for dessert. But 2 days ago I sampled heaven in the form of pumpkin pie at the Metropolitan Market. Like any good mom would, I gave the best bite to Breck who was balanced on one hip while I attempted to eat the measly left over with my free hand. What left Breck whining for more, did me the same. 2 days and counting. 

Who dares to sample pumpkin heaven when the bakery is sold out anyway?

So 2 nights later, I still crave the pie. Tonight, I looked into Breck's tired eyes and seriously contemplated for that moment packing him up against all signs that was a good idea and dodging rain drops in the dark, in hopes that perhaps tonight, there would be a slice left for me in the bakery. Nope, I couldn't do it. I couldn't bear the thought of dragging Breck out the door, from which we just came in. To delay my child's bedtime for my new found love pumpkin pie.

For the love of my child, I will forego pumpkin pie.... tonight. Tomorrow's another story.

Hands Full

A wonderful stranger. A new perspective. A sweet reminder.

My husband and I were at our friend's wedding this weekend. Must admit I was a little apprehensive bringing Breck to a wedding. Suddenly, we would be "those people". With Breck in his PJ's slowly drifting off to sleep, I force his tired little body to whip around the dance floor with me dancing (yes, in my purple dress!)  to classic wedding reception tunes. Then a gentle tap on my shoulder by this lovely woman, "if you'd be ok with it, I'd love nothing more than to hold your son so you can dance with your husband" My immediate reaction was to hand him off faster than she finished. But not too fast, who is this woman? I watch her from across the room. She is a sweet woman. Sitting with her elderly parents, she just looks like someone you want you know. A few minutes later I walk in her direction, Breck sound asleep on my shoulder and before I could approach her, her arms reach out to cradle him. "You'd make my night if I could cuddle him" Afterall, she is a friend of the bride, our friend. I trust my gut, she's more than ok. I watch Breck sleep, he's out cold with his face cozy in her big chest. Suddenly he has the best seat in the house, Dave and I laugh. This sleeping boy is making her evening. And I am free, for just a couple moments. I sat for a few minutes, alone, watching her love my son. She rocks him gently and rubs his cheek. What a wonderful woman she is. I realize, I dont know her name. She doesn't even know his. But this is confirmation that there are perfect strangers in this world, good human beings. The kind our parents raised us to be. This, I will pay forward.

Now its my turn, I tap her on the shoulder. I say thank you,  "you have no idea how nice it feels to have my hands free." Her response, amazing "and you have no idea how nice it feels to have my hands full"

That Moment

One of my favorite moments.  Carrying my sleepy son on the beach. His little tired body molded into my shape. His sweet baby smell mixed with salty air. His quiet little mumbles whisper in my ear while the ocean mesmerizes him. This is what perfection feels like.

Somersault

I took my son to the gym today, a gymnastics class. He's the busiest boy I know, must find something that tires him out. We've tried these gyms before. He hated the others. He takes after his mom. 

This one was different. He learned something! Somersaults. And I did too, how to spell this word, which never had much use before. Anyway, he's far from perfecting his over the head flip. But his world came alive when he landed. And I realized, we are in trouble. How long before the somersault gets practiced off the end of my bed or the couch. Stay tuned for that story. Overall, gym class a success. 

But what was with the tall, tan dad with the raspberry painted toe nails?

Every mom needs a purple dress

Today, like most days, I am last minute to accomplishing anything that has to do with myself. My friends and family can attest, this is story number 12,050-- always the same, never the learning. A glimpse into my character. 

Lesson # 12,050: don't put off shopping for a wedding until the night before the wedding. How many times have I done this before? God Bless people who are well prepared. I like to blame my career which has been built on deadlines and stress and detail for why in my personal life things seems to be last minute. (I guess I shouldn't be shocked my first blog entry is nearly 12 months after I intended) Afterall, we were invited to the wedding 5 months ago. I always knew I needed something to wear. But, I hate shopping. I love getting new things. I hate the process of shopping. I like all the things I cannot afford. So 24 hours and counting, I am dress-less. My one and only dress has a broken zipper. 

The remedy: I scoop up my son into his stroller. And I think for some reason this time he'll love shopping. One mall and 4 boutiques later, I have a dress. Not THE dress but it made me feel girly so I bought it. I'll probably never wear it again. In fact I know I wont. But its purple, its trendy and its sassy. And for that moment in the mirror I was not the tired mom on the outside I so was oozing on the inside. I am now the proud owner of that sassy purple trendy dress. But we have one major problem. I have no shoes for the dress. This is why I hate shopping. 4 wasted hours. 1 screaming son. 1 lonely purple dress. 0 dresses to wear to the wedding. If anyone needs to feel pretty in the mirror, I have your perfect cure.