Happy Birthday, Lyla-Gray

My baby girl is officially one month old today. It seems like yesterday that my teething, smiling, gassy-as-a-trucker, sweet baby graced us with her presence.

She was actually only 20 inches long. I'm short; she didn't have a whole lot of room to work with.

It's hard to be photogenic when you're opened up like a Thanksgiving turkey.

Oh! The indignities of the first minutes of life. I'm proud to say she scored an 8 and 9 on her APGARs.

Don't let this sweet face fool you. OK. Go ahead and let it. She's still fooling us (she's a few hours old in this one)

The Fiance™ and Lady Gray

The Fiance™'s twin brother (and Lady Gray's godfather). No, they look nothing alike.

Nugget love!

She looks so much like The Monkey, I shall call this "Doppleganger sister!"

Seriously, don't let the sweetness fool you.

Cuz she can be a banshee when she wants to! I call this "Metal Scream!"

She does smile. A lot. It's cute.

Happy New Year!

If you're Mayan, you're probably counting down the minutes to doomsday. Of course, I have my thoughts about the end of the world -- mainly, that they have the date wrong (it's really hard to peg the right date when the type of calendar we use has changed so much in the last few hundred years). Being an avid student of history really kills the whole "the world is going to end" buzz for me. It's kind of a bummer, really.

Though... part of me wishes that the world -- at least the materialistic, consumeristic, Jersey Shore worshiping part of it -- would come to end. I would love nothing more than a return to simplicity. Less TV and more talking. Fewer hours in front of an X-box and more time in front of campfires. My wishes are grandiose in their simplicity.

So, it's the beginning of the year -- traditionally when people make a whole bunch of resolutions. I always say I'm not going to make any resolutions (because I'm horrible at follow through), but then I do anyway. Usually right at the top of the list is "actually follow through on my resolutions", which I never do. Have I mentioned that follow through is not my strong suit? So I decided to change it up. This year, I'm going to focus on a theme. Yeah, I'm totally having a theme party kind of year.

My theme: fearlessness.

In case it wasn't obvious, I'm actually kind of neurotic. Usually about stuff that centers around anything having to do with being embarrassed or making mistakes. I'd say I was borderline phobic about making mistakes (it's the oldest child syndrome I'm rocking. Damn birth orders). So this year, I'm going to take more chances. I'm going to be bold and say "yes" more. I'm going to wear neon pink tutus and horizontal stripes (suffice it to say, this rubenesque girl doesn't do horizontal stripes). I'm going to be silly and foolish and truly enjoy life.

That isn't to say that I don't truly enjoy my life -- because I do. Oh, lords above! How I love my life! I love my trolls and The Boyfriend™ and our family. I love the life we've created and are creating. I love that The Boyfriend™ can talk me into staying in bed all day -- and The Trolls are totally down with it. I love my new green kitchen and I love cooking for my boys in it. I mean, there is just so much I love -- and am immensely grateful for -- and I want to get down and dirty and revel in it!

And not care if I'm acting a fool. As inspiration (and gentle kick in the ass) I am going to read, every day, Neil Gaiman's New Year post:

"My New Year Wish"

..."I hope that in this year to come, you make mistakes.

Because if you are making mistakes, then you are making new things, trying new things, learning, living, pushing yourself, changing yourself, changing your world. You're doing things you've never done before, and more importantly, you're Doing Something.

So that's my wish for you, and all of us, and my wish for myself. Make New Mistakes. Make glorious, amazing mistakes. Make mistakes nobody's ever made before. Don't freeze, don't stop, don't worry that it isn't good enough, or it isn't perfect, whatever it is: art, or love, or work or family or live.

Whatever it is you're scared of doing. Do it.

Make your mistakes, next year and forever."

Hear! Hear! Neil.

Twofer -- Things I'm Grateful For

I am insanely, ridiculously thankful for these boys of mine. The Trolls are my heart and soul. The Boyfriend™ is the piece of me I didn't know I was missing -- until I found him. There is no place I'd rather be than with my boys, at home.

The Monkey -- being monkey-ish. Cuz that's how he rolls.

I love this kid. More than he knows. Since he's going through the God Awful Puberties right now, we fight more often than we get along. But this child is solely responsible for teaching me how to love -- wholly and unconditionally. He loves and lives so fully and loudly and I can only hope that I can be so bold someday.

The Nugget -- 'nuff said.

Oh, how I love this child. He's saved me a couple of times in his life. I think he's part guardian angel. He's moody and sensitive. He's quizzical and just so unapologetic about being him. We could all benefit from taking a page out of his book.

The Boyfriend™ -- it was sheer coincidence that he was making the same face as The Nugget

If The Monkey is my heart and The Nugget is my soul, then The Boyfriend™ is the glue holding it all together. The dude gets me, puts up with me and doesn't mind assuaging me on a daily basis. He should be nominated for sainthood. OK... he's not that perfect, but he's perfect for me and that's what counts.

A Moment of Gratitude While Sitting on My Front Porch

Today was a particularly exhausting day, but not for the usual reasons. I'm on day three of my moon cycle - and this day is usually heinous. My body is worn out and demands rest on this day of the cycle, and the best thing I can do is honor that demand. Resistance is futile.

It was also open house at The Nugget's school tonight. I met his teacher and am ever so excited about the year for him, knowing that he has a compassionate teacher who is in it for the love of teaching. So far, I've heard nothing but positively glowing statements about her methods, her classroom, and about HER. I admired the way that she gently, but firmly, established her "alpha" role with The Nugget - even while I was standing there. It was a moment of cooperative "parenting," and put me even more at ease.

I have tomorrow off from work and am looking forward to the long weekend with The Trolls and The Boyfriend™ before school starts. While filled with a bit of here and there, it's also an opportunity for us to batten down the hatches and gear up for the school year. In anticipation of the chaos, I've gone a bit off the deep end and implemented a by-the-hour school week schedule, in an effort to not only mitigate that chaos but allow more structure and being present for each other, as a family.

Being present is something I am even more acutely aware of these days. Our trip to Massachusetts planted the seed and a startling wake up call, by way of The Monkey's report card, fertilized the roots. My children suffered for a lack of my being truly present for them. *I* suffered for a lack of being truly present. My relationship with The Boyfriend™ suffers from that lack, too, as well as a lack of listening. And while it will be an uphill battle to undo the damage wrought by my ignorance, I am grateful that I had this epiphany in time to fix it.

There are certain things that I wish I had the luxury of: homeschooling The Trolls, making a living from my art, so I can stay home and not be beholden to the clock. But being present and aware of that desire to simplify allows me to give more purpose to my days, because I am working toward that goal. Building the foundation for the realization of my dreams, by researching homeschooling, sustainable living, how to make my etsy shop successful, homes and land for sale in New England, will allow me to have EXACTLY what I want, rather than some facsimile thereof. So, in a way (and as frustrating as it is), I am grateful for the interlude between now and THEN - when I've achieved my goals - and here and THERE, so that the foundation I build is solid. So that I learn to breathe and be present. So that I walk this path with mindfulness.

Between here and there, and now and then, I can create memories and traditions. Memories of paths explored during the remaining time in Florida, to take with us and give us something to reminisce about during those long winter nights in New England. Traditions that can translate to whatever home we're in. Habits and guidelines to sustain us as we transition from one cycle of our lives together.

The last - and I think the most important - thing I am grateful for tonight is the realization that it's not too late. Time has a funny way of speeding by, but I have the power to slow it down. I have the power to stopnthe clock, if necessary, to give myself a couple more seconds here or there to make sure that I am not late. And as long as I am moving forward toward the realization of my dreams, then there is no such thing as too late.

Rabbit! Rabbit!

Wish y'all a happy, healthy and prosperous 2011.

I am currently sitting here with The Trolls, watching cartoons, after we all chased each other through the house, which was after pig piling on The Boyfriend (who woke up just long enough to kiss me when the ball dropped).

It's quiet-ish. It's full of love and already a lot of laughter and this is the way a year should start.

New Year Resolution - to be more grateful - will be easy to keep when I'm feeling the kind of love I'm feeling right now. This is a very auspicious beginning to 2011.

Along with the happiness, health and prosperity, here's to your lives being filled with love, smuggles and maybe some wood gnomes, too.

The sexiest women in the world? Really??

As I may have mentioned, I don't have cable. As such, I'm not subject to as much commercialization as the bulk of America. For this, I give thanks.

But I do have internet access, which means that I am kinda sorta aware of what's going on in the world around me. I guess, earlier this week, Victoria's Secret had some sort of runway spectacular, where a bunch of emaciated-looking, scantily-clad women trotted around making approximately 99.74565% of the women watching this thing feel like utter and complete shit about themselves.

It didn't help that the show advertised that the sexiest women in the world would be modeling.

Really? Really?! These are the sexiest women alive?

This is a rhetorical question, really, but when in the hell did Victoria's Secret become the standard to which all beauty must be held?!

When did this become beautiful?!

Image taken from http://ednosgirl.wordpress.com/thinspiration/

Seriously, I want to take this girl home and force feed her a sandwich.

But it's not her fault. Not really. She's just as much a victim of fashion's pervasive hold on our aesthetic psyche.

And when Victoria's Secret touts this as one of the sexist women in the world, the world is clearly sick. As far as I'm concerned, this is socially sanctioned abuse of women.

Worst of  all, we allow it to happen. We allow ourselves to be abused.

As a student of history, I know that women have almost always been expected to shape their bodies to someone's ideal of perfection. We pluck, we tuck, we paint, we dye. All in the vain attempt to look different from ourselves; to be desired not for our inner worth, but our outward appearance.

Even the Rubenesque ideal, as more honest a depiction of real women as it was, was still not attainable by the average woman of that time:

Paul Rubens - The Three Graces

Ironic, I know.

I spent the last 11 years of the 13 I spent with The Ex concerned about how I looked, lest I get too heavy for him to love. I knew -- intellectually -- that I was better than that, but still allowed myself to feel less than because I couldn't get rid of the baby weight. I knew that I was intelligent, beautiful, witty and charming. I knew, on some level, that I was, in fact, sexy. But because I was heavy; because I didn't still possess my swimmer's body, the value I gave myself was close to nothing. Any worth I had was closely tied to his opinion of me.

It's bullshit, really, but it's a mindset that isn't easily shaken. Even now, I have an adoring loving boyfriend, who finds me ridiculously sexy, and I still won't let him see me naked because I don't look like a Victoria's Secret model.

I even have a hard time finding this picture of me sexy, because I know that I deliberately positioned myself so my mom apron wouldn't be in the picture. I made Miguelito take the picture using the whole depth of field trick so my stretch marks wouldn't show. I wore the shirt so my droopy, saggy boobs wouldn't be too obvious:

Yup, this is me. Picture taken by Michael Barnard

I don't find this picture of me really sexy and yet, this is The Boyfriend™'s favorite picture of me.

What's worse, is that I still have a hard time finding myself intrinsically valuable despite all indications to the contrary.

There is something inherently wrong with that. Fo'reals... how am I not one of the sexiest women in the world? How is The Best Friend (R) not? How is The Nancarita not?

Fact is, we are some of the sexiest women in the world!

I can't change the world over night (until such time as I become the ruler of the world, which will happen. Mark my words), but I can change how I view the world -- and myself.

All of you fabulously un-airbrushed women out there! Those of you without personal trainers and personal chefs. Those of you that stay at home raising your children, or are out in the world working your heinies off to feed your children. Those of you without children, or with grown children, or with grandchildren. Those of you who can comfortably wear a size four and those of you who squeeze into a size fourteen. And everything in between -- all of you, join me in declaring yourselves THE SEXIEST WOMEN IN THE WORLD!

Because YOU ARE the sexiest women in the world! Let your light shine through and LOVE YOURSELVES. Turn off the TV and go stand in front of the full length mirror and love the hell out of those curves and stretch marks and saggy boobs. Worship yourselves for the goddesses you truly are!

Then, when you're done, remind yourself that it's what's INSIDE that makes you truly beautiful!

Aaand.... GO!

Woo doggy! There is just a ton going on, much of it requiring that I float in this sort of holding pattern for a bit longer. All of it rather disjointed and leaving me feeling mostly empty and devoid of anything tangible to offer in this here blog space.

...Except for a smidgen that is reminding me of all the immense wonder and good that is coming down the pike. I hold on to that smidgen tightly these days -- it's my life preserver.

So what have I been up to lately? I'm glad you asked!

Learning to live with the restrictions of gallbladder disease is still a process, but one that is keeping me acutely in tune with the rhythms of my body. While this particular journey is one about learning to live with restriction, I am grateful for the opportunity to get to know my physical being a bit better. The process is definitely helping me to learn to love myself; to find my curves voluptuous and sexy, rather than the unpleasant consequences of a hedonistic lifestyle.

I'm amazed that this particular medical malady has triggered a wellspring of self-love and healing. Seriously, the best presents come in the plain wrapping paper -- and when least expected!

And in other news, I think I can safely announce The Thing That Needed To Happen thing... The Boyfriend™ and I will o-fficially be living together at the end of January (that's when my lease is up)! Yay!

...No. I still haven't met his mother yet. Yes, I'm aware that this is all very ass-backwards.

The process of choosing to live with someone is foreign to me. When The Ex and I moved in together, it's because I was very, very pregnant with The Monkey. And even then, I stayed a night or two with The Rental Units until they moved to Florida, forcing me to spend every single night with The Ex. Living with The Ex is my only frame of reference for this kind of thing, sad as that may be.

However, I'm learning to navigate these strange waters of choice. The process is bringing The Boyfriend™ and me closer, allowing us to learn to communicate with each other from a very fundamentally honest place. We are speaking from our hearts about our fears and concerns -- and not just about living together, but also about the whole scope of our relationship. Skeletons are being exorcised from their respective closets, so to speak. The Ghosts of Exes Past are being trotted out, greeted and promptly dismissed. Quirks and neuroses (yes, even The Boyfriend™ has quirks) are being discussed, poked, prodded and told to shut up.

In addition to the lovely-ness that this move is creating in my relationship with The Boyfriend™, it's also lighting a fire under my ass to start purging myself of all my clutter, which is in keeping with my life list goal to live more simply.

And, frankly, co-habitation will enable me to more easily and readily pursue other items on my Life List, as it frees up some of the necessary cash flow. More importantly, however, The Boyfriend™ is a constant support for my life goals, never really allowing me to rest on my laurels and constantly, yet gently, reminding me to get on with it already! Despite his claim that he can never remember anything, home boy certainly remembers to remind me about going back to college... and to re-type the family letters, like I promised my nana I would do.

(Universe, if you're listening, THANK YOU!! for the wonderful, delightful miracle that is The Boyfriend™)

Of course, it's not all sunshine and magic faerie dust. The impending move stuff is happening smack dab in the middle of getting ready for Christmas. And when you have Trolls under the age of 15 living with you, you can't just skip over all the Christmas stuff.

Because I'm a glutton for punishment, I decided that this year I'd be making Christmas gifts for all of my nearest and dearest, in the style of the Magical Box of Delight that is my annual Christmas and birthday gifts from my Uncle Brion*. This means that most of my free time is being consumed by creating gifts, which means that there isn't room left for me to create for the sake of creating.

Strangely, I'm OK with this for right now. I think my soul needs the down time and space to process all this change coming 'round the bend. As soon as I'm settled in my new digs, I will being jumping back into my art as if my life depended on it -- and that may very well end up being the case.

In between all of these marvelous things, is my spiritual progress. I'm learning so, so much right now:

- I'm learning to find my limits and in those limits, learning to say no without feeling guilty.
- I'm learning that selfish impulses are a normal part of the human condition -- we just don't have to act on them is all. But occasional indulgence is good for you.
- I'm learning that it's OK to feel empathetic to a friend's plight or "lack" without having to diminish your own happiness... or feel guilty about your own plentitude.
- I'm learning that, much like how the universe handles us all, there's only so much help you can give someone emotionally, physically, monetarily before you have to say, "Enough. Start helping yourself now."
- I'm learning how to hold my tongue -- especially when a loved one is not in the head space to hear the truth.
- And I'm learning that MY truth is not THE truth, and may not work for everyone.
- I'm learning to simplify. Sifting through the physical detritus of my life thus far, and getting rid of a lot of it, has been a wondrous catharsis.

So, as you can see, there is so, so much going on! So, so much to do -- and more of it yet to do. This is the ramp-up; the training before the big race, where the finish line is all of my dreams coming true, and happy little check marks appearing next to all of the things on my life list.

I wish ALL OF YOU this joyous wellspring -- as overwhelming and exhausting as it can be at times. I wish YOU ALL these miracles.

-Namaste.



*My uncle Brion always sends me these wonderful boxes filled with things that only Uncle Brion knows how to find. Things like weird socks and lip balms and journals and odd clay jewelry. His presents never fail to delight me no end. I'm starting to think that Uncle Brion is actually Santa Claus

On Honoring... Authenticity

Another theme I'll be running through this blog is "honoring." "On Honoring..." will be a series of entries about accepting, allowing and honoring something about myself -- and, hopefully, by honoring that something in me, I can give someone else the foundation to honor it within themselves. Honoring is something I'm learning how to do, mostly because I've find myself rather defective in a lot of ways.

But you know what? Defective is OK. Actually, strike that -- defective is fucking fantastic!

When we say no, or when we follow our dreams or true callings -- people might be disappointed in our choices. Allowing people their disappointment sets us free." (Attributed to Christine Kane, from Boho Girl's blog)


Living authentically has always been difficult for me -- mostly due to my innate fear of disappointing anyone. I mean, it could be a distant cousin, the stranger in the passing car, or the telemarketer on the phone -- I don't want to disappoint any one of them. Most especially though, I don't want to let my family down.


I'm rather phobic about it, actually.

My disappointment phobia is a fairly large hindrance to living my most authentic life, because living the way I want to will inevitably disappoint someone -- most likely my parents. I will undoubtedly make a choice for my life that someone else would not have made for me.

Woah. Wait. Let's pause here and take a look at that last sentence. It encapsulates my thought process rather nicely:

I. Will. Undoubtedly. Make. A. Choice. For. My. Life. That. Someone. Else. Would. Not. Have. Made. For. Me.

Anyone else see something wrong with that? Yeah, me too.

That very disturbing sentence really does explain why I am constantly afraid of trying... of succeeding... of failing... of taking a stand... taking what's mine... of being brave... of saying, "This is YOUR prejudice. I will NOT let it inhibit my life anymore!"

I will honor my authenticity -- and all that fabulous defects that go along with it. I declare:

I will try...
I may stumble and fall, but...
I will get back up.
I will succeed!

And while I'm at it, I'm changing the definition of defective, too!

With or without anyone's approval, MY life begins now!