holdmama

and then you woke up and you were old.

2011-11-16T08:03:00.000-08:00

its been sneaking up on me for awhile now.

for starters, i still own several pairs of flare jeans, and its downright embarrassing wearing anything abercrombie.

you know.

its when you look in the mirror and all you can see are wrinkles staring back at you. i swear it wasn't even 5 years ago that it never even occurred to me i would have to think about having wrinkles. now, i tear out those botox ads with a fervor (not really, it was more for effect).

no matter how you slice it or dice it, i'm getting old people.

and there's nothing like ~~living in SLO among beautiful college girls~~ a night on the town to remind you just how old you are.

when lealah decided to have her birthday at sebastians or mission grill or native or whatever its called, i thought, okay-- downtown slo, time to step up my game. as in i might have to tear my lounge wear off and slap on the ol bra to make my appearance. so i brought out my A game, a 'high and tight' black and white number i got in vegas last february. as i was checkin myself out in the mirror before i left, i'll admit i was feelin pretty good. college smollege. i'll show those fine young thangs a thing or two what this ol coug can bring.

the night started off mellow. after all, we were possibly the only people actually downtown in a bar before 10 pm. we had a nice, mellow dinner and then made our way to the frog and peach. now let me just remind you all that in my day i was no stranger to the downtown scene. let's just say I'm pretty sure Jay Z was thinking of me when he wrote, 'i'm gonna run this town tonight.' heck, back in the day, they knew my name at reggae night and 80's night at mothers... let's just say, the circle formed around ~~my friend emily~~ me if you know what i mean. anyhoo, apparently times had changed cuz when we got to the frog and peach i realized a few things had changed... one of which wasn't that disgusting musty beer sweat mold smell that permeates from the bar, but what had changed was that i looked around and realized i was quite possibly the oldest person there... besides the friends i was with-- they are waaaaay older than me. suddenly i started to feel really self conscious... it took everything in me not to ask the young college girl in the bathroom how old she thought i was... mostly cuz i probably would have started crying and then she'd laugh with her friends about how that old washed out mom was trying to get in touch with her younger days. and although i overcame that, it didn't stop me and lealah from cornering a young bob dylan hipster sort of lad with a fake accent into telling us how old he thought we were. when he said, 'i guess 30,' we were naturally very offended, cuz you know that was a conservative guess, i mean he probably thought we were 40! how horrible is that?! anyway, to spite his disinterest in us old bags, lealah mentioned to him that she used to be in a band (true) and that i had an incredible voice (false). i then felt inclined to take it one step further and confess i made it to the 16th round of american idol' (false). who wants to be my best friend now, regardless of my age??? you guessed it... little gyspsy hispster does. he literally could not get enough of my stardom. i played it super cool, told him it was a few years back, and i couldn't tell him much about it cuz of confidentiality agreements. lealah graciously told him i literally had the voice of aretha franklin in a skinny white girls body (so false). it was all fine and dandy til lealah left to talk to someone else and i was stuck with this tween all up in my grill. suddenly i couldn't go on with the lies when it was just me and him, so i abruptly left telling him my baby was crying or something...

after our rendezvous at the peach, we thought 'hey we're not getting any younger, why don't we go dancing?!' cuz nothing says you are to old to be in a bar as breakin out the robot to songs you've never heard in your life. however, it was at this juncture, that the night finally threw us a bone. you see, we weren't old anymore.... cuz we saw this:

that's right, they are def 'in their 40's' dancing even worse than us and wearing light denim flare jeans with copious amounts of jeweled stitching (always a dead give away). if the night had a redeemer it came in that sweet couple. it was shortly after this revelation, i realized my work here was done. i suddenly had an overwhelming urge to be in sweats on my couch eating ice cream with my husband. if we hurried we could catch most of SNL... and get enough rest to enjoy the best part of every day... waking up to the 3 most beautiful babies in the world. i guess it was then i realized getting old isn't so bad. as much as i long for a wrinkle free face and a non grey haired head, i think the trade off is worth it if it means the dude taking me home that night makes really cute babies... which he does... very well i might add.

so downtown slo, i know it was just another night to you, but to me it was a huge awakening. although i don't still got it, thanks for showing me i actually have ALL i need right here in sweet little los osos.

if i could turn back time

2011-10-27T06:27:00.000-07:00

its funny how all of your kids are born your 'baby' and somehow each one of them retain that name regardless of their age or birth order. all 3 of my kids are my baby... yet if i get right down to it, i actually do have a real baby. many of you know her as the cutest baby in the world, and it pains me to say that that baby is turning 2.

she's actually trying to not be a baby anymore.

and that is probably the saddest thing in the whole world.

every morning when she comes into our bed i get anywhere from 30 seconds to up to 7.5 minutes next to her. its a time where i'm transported back to those first few weeks with her. a time where i literally could not get enough of the smell of her hair, the touch of her skin against mine and her big blues staring back at me. a time where she was small enough that it wasn't to far fetched to lay her on my tummy and pretend she was back inside me. there's nothing in this world that makes you feel as alive as having life within you.

some mornings she babbles non stop, other mornings she doesn't say a word. in both instances i pray a quick prayer that if god could just put her back in my tummy or freeze time just this one day that i would never ask for anything else again.

i remember when i was so scared to have a second child. i was so scared that i wouldn't be able to love him as much as my first. i couldn't comprehend that god would double my love, not cut it in half. surely bringing a third into the mix would really compromise the love, but instead i think he didn't just multiply it by 3, i think it got multiplied by 33. my mind can barely grasp what will happen when number 4 fly's in.

so how can i sum up this final baby girl of ours? i'll start by saying, her face will bring a smile to the hardest heart. currently she is standing on top of a 6 ft ladder. in so many ways, she's everything lily and ozzy are not. she's outgoing, wants to be held by everyone, loves attention and praise and is actually really loud. she can't sit still for more than 11 seconds, and literally has never even watched more than 8 minutes of television or a movie at one time. i can't believe i ever even questioned having a third child. she loves mornings alone with ozzy full of trampolines and slides, and adores afternoons full of babies and tea parties with lily. she's the closest i've ever had to perfection. i miss her when she naps, and giddily anticipate her arrival into our bed every morning.

i literally cannot get enough of her.

so if a picture is worth a thousand words.... here's 3 trillion for ya.

happy birthday baby girl. you will always be my first and last.

for the love of coco

2011-09-13T13:26:00.000-07:00

*** update*** thank you all so very much for praying. if you're wondering if God has answered them, i would have to shout a resounding yes! two weeks ago, coco had her first 'clean' head scan in over 18 months... its seriously crazy. her words to describe the results were to beautiful not to post-- 'i arrived to the appointment wearing a long, bright red dress. i figured it couldn't hurt to look hopeful. i waited in my oncologist's office sitting on danny (her husband's) lap. i sat anxiously awaiting, it had been a long time since he'd been able to give good news, so in some ways i was braced for the worst. i heard him approaching and i turned to greet him as he paused in the doorway. he looked up and said, 'well, i've got some good news.' i literally fell to the floor weeping, red dress and all. it was the best day i've had in a long time!' so as you can imagine these last few weeks have been filled with incredible gratitude, humility and just downright thankfulness to the God who can and will heal! coco is continuing her chemo, so please, please continue to pray for her. she has these scans every few weeks, and though we won a battle, we have not won the war. so please, again, i implore you keep on praying! IT'S WORKING!!!

i have a friend who has cancer.

i never knew i hated cancer so much. but now i can tell you that with all my heart i hate it. i hate what it is, where it came from, what it does to people who love those affected, and even more what it does to the people themselves. i hate that they have to live in fear. from scan to scan, from waiting room to waiting room, from specialist to specialist. little do all these doctors and nurses know, that these cancer patients are hanging on every. single. word. how its delivered, inflections in the voice, lack of or too much eye contact. all of it they have to bundle up in a little package and leave.... only to unwrap and examine and analyze it until the next appointment.

my first recollection of her was a smiling face with a mess of curly blond hair. she exuded a confidence and warmth that few people are blessed to be born with. i knew her as danny's new girlfriend. i knew she worked at slo brew, was a massage therapist and a whole barrel of laughs. years went by and i would run into very sporadically. at sushi, walking downtown, and then finally one day at our OB's office. if i'd ever talked to her before i couldn't remember, but that sunny june day she told me she was due any day with their first. a girl. i was 4 months off from delivering my third, also a girl. we congratulated each other and wished each other luck. it wasn't until a few months later after i had settled into life with 3 that my friend erin called to tell me that there was something wrong with danny's wife's eye. 'like what?' i asked innocently. 'like it might be cancer. she has to have surgery.' heavy i thought. i'll pray for her. and i did, but only a few times.

never in a million years would i have thought a year and a half later she would be one of my very closest friends. a girl i break bread with every monday night as we dig into god's word. a girl i have fasted and prayed for with a fervor only god could give me. a girl that inspires and humbles me in her insatiable hunger for all things jesus. a girl who loves her own baby girl in a way that makes me shudder when i think of the ungratefulness i sometimes have with my own babies. a girl that every day has to swim in a seemingly endless ocean of anxiety called what if. she's 34 years old. her daughter is 2.

after the thing with eye was straightened out we all felt relieved. life went on for all of us until the next scan. when they found tumors near her brain, everyone sobered up. she emailed me out of the blue saying she knew i had a bible study and would we pray for her, and maybe could she come sometime. i emailed her back and told her we already were praying and will continue too and yes, please come. i didn't hear anything for another couple months. the surgery had gone well, and radiation was to begin. when it came back for the second time, lealah told me we needed to go to her. we needed to lay hands on her and pray.

two weeks later, on new years day, we gathered in her home for a session of prayer i like i have never experienced. we prayed and cried and repented and anointed one another for 3 hours straight. this was undoubtedly the stuff acts was made of. this was surely what god has intended for us to do more than once in a lifetime. we prayed with all our hearts and i was sure god would heal her. he didn't. not yet anyway. she died to herself that day and truly became alive in christ. i rejoiced with her a few months later at her baptism. when you see someone who needs jesus like we need air, you start to see the world a little differently.

the last few months have been a roller coaster of highs and lows. more lows than highs and its getting harder. i feel satan wanting to crush my less than mustard seed. i feel him infringing on my faith to move mountains and tumors. i feel him suffocating me and suffocating her by depriving of us hope. my friend has cancer. but cancer doesn't have her.

so it's when we sit in the waiting room as she gets strapped to a table and waits as her tumors are ionized, and i'm barely able to keep from smashing the tv as hoda and kathie lee sample the latest sangria recipe that i know i'll just have to grit my teeth. i'll smile and i'll take her hand and walk into the sunshine, because today that's all we really have. and for now, that's going to have to be enough.

whoever you are, wherever you are, please pray. not just now, but every single day. please pray that god would heal coco. once and for all. and so when i post again about her healing you will know that you were part of that. that god heard your prayers and petitions. please, i beg you. i know this can work. for the love of coco, i implore you. pray.

let 'the help' help you.

2011-08-25T14:11:00.000-07:00

unless you have been hiding under a rock for the last year, chances are you've either read or seen the movie, the help by kathryn stockett. i, like all my white mommy friends have read the book and really enjoyed it. i've yet to see the movie, but there's no doubt i will cry at the beauty and injustice of it all. this book is so much the rage that at least once a week i'll see someone post on fb, 'looking for a great book, any suggestions?' and nine times out of ten, the first comment is 'the help, i loved it!'
the more i'd see these fb posts and hear everyone talk about how great the book was, something in me started to rumble. maybe its just my inclination toward anti-social behavior, or maybe i started to really examine why everyone loved this book so damn much. i remembered enjoying reading it, i thought it was really well written, but best book ever?-- not by a long shot. with that being said, i want to emphasize my hesitation to 'criticize' the book itself. as a wannabe novelist, i can appreciate how extremely difficult it would be to put a book of that level together. it was entertaining, heart wrenching and just plain well-written. a page turner in a john grisham meets secret life of bees sort of way-- simple enough to follow, yet rich and complex in that it was about a subject matter i knew very little about.

as i began to wade through what was troubling me about everyone's enthusiasm about the book, i realized a few things. first off, i realized that it was a veiled way for us white women to take a stand against racism. hindsight is 20/20 and since all of us should know that treating african americans the way we did was totally and completely wrong, this is our opportunity to make it known that we would have been different. perhaps we would have been the 'skeeter' of the group. we would have known better. which is totally crap, and anyone who thinks differently is lying to themselves. or better put, in the words of my wise husband, 'i think it is odd and largely irrelevant for us to create a sense of empowerment for ourselves as it were with regard to how we would have been different…the ‘would have/should have/could have’ thought process, and discussion for that matter means absolutely nothing…unless we are simply seeking to delude ourselves. what matters is now—if our sentiments about that time can impact us now, then that is progress…if all we want to do is feign superiority over a time and people portrayed in a book we are more lost than found.'
boom.

what it comes down to is that the help is a simplistic way for us to look at racism in the past tense. it allows us to become infuriated with what once was, when the reality is, the once was is really the 'still is,' more often than not. a super duper smart blogger put it this way by comparing the help to a controversial cake she saw where there were two unicorns--the white unicorn was all pretty with rainbows fighting a black unicorn with flames all over it, 'You know why everyone is up in arms about a unicorn cake? Because it’s safe and it doesn’t mean anything. Because you can feign indignation about something as trivial as sugar and fondant. Because you get to create a distraction with a big old mess of a cake that has some “racially problematic imagery” and that right there is where your concern for and discussion of race end. Keep talking about cake in the vacuum of mostly white communities. You’ve proven the old proverb wrong. Eat your cake, people. Down it to the last crumb. Tomorrow, you can have it again. Trust me. It will still be there. The racism, that is. We can talk about race in a real way or we can talk about cake. I’m choosing the former.'

let me reiterate, i am no expert on race. in fact my experience is so incredibly limited. i am white (except when i try and be latino and everyone laughs at me), my husband is super white (if such a thing exists) and i have blond children which really seals the deal. i grew up in SLO which is like 95% white and have lived in only a handful of places, all of which boast similar statistics. the only thing i really have is the 5 formative years i spent with jon carter as my mom and i's housemate. it was then that i realized how alive racism still was, yes even in sweet little SLO. it wasn't easy for me to write this blog, i knew it would likely ~~piss off~~ frustrate a lot of people. but b reminded me when he said, 'you should totally blog about it. people read your blog, we are going to have an ethiopian son. racial issues will be part of our life forever.' so with that said, i want to emphasize that i'm not faulting anyone for liking the book, i'm just trying to help myself and hopefully some of you recognize that there is a bigger issue at stake. racism is still a huge problem and i want to be held accountable for what i am doing to aid in it, not just sit around and talk about in the past tense in the 'vacuum of my white community.'

thoughts?

if only i had done cheer, then maybe i wouldn't be such an a-hole about it

2011-08-17T15:10:00.000-07:00

when *alyssa* first approached me about the possibility of lily trying out for the central coast elite cheer team, she might as well have told me she had baby unicorns for sale in the back of her truck. i was honestly that shocked. i tried to hide my smirk and feign interest as she went on and on about what a great program it was and how she has had her eye on lily for awhile and how much fun she would have and blah blah blah. i nodded politely as i inwardly wondered where she got her hot pink nike frees (don't be surprised if you see me in a pair in the near future) and whether or not she was naturally blond. i left with a thick packet of papers, made some jokes to my friends about it, and pretty much forgot all about it.

it's not that i hate cheerleading, its just that i hate cheerleading. okay, so maybe i don't hate it as much as i just don't understand it. which is typically defined as ignorance. and in this case, ignorance, truly was, bliss. my limited experience with cheer was the four we had in high school, who as my shooting guard described, 'made it really difficult to hear coach telling us what play to run in the huddle.' now don't get me wrong, i'll take any fans i can get, and the cheerleaders themselves were just fine, in fact i'm close friends with a couple of super hot, former high school cheerleader sisters today. its just never what i would have imagined for my own daughter.
which, really is very stupid if i think about it. cuz if i really thought about it, knowing what i know about lily, the real question is how could she not do cheer? yet with my pride still raging, i tossed the cheer packet aside and resolved not to discuss it any further. i was content with lily's progress in gymnastics, she seemed to really be making some strides lately, why mess with a good thing? well, you mess with a good thing when you hear your 6 year old telling friend and foe alike that she's starting cheer. and then a week later, you're hanging poolside and hear your phone ring and recognize the number but can't place it and take a chance on answering it. lo and behold, alyssa's sweet alpha phi voice melodiously asks if we've given any more thought to cheer. maybe it was the margarita talking (yes it was noon on tuesday, don't judge me. i was at the elks) but i decided to be honest with her. i told her how i just wasn't sure, cuz i played sports (wrong thing to say) and i just wasn't sure about the time and money commitment. after she ripped me a new one about how much cheer was a sport and guilt tripped me into just letting lily try it, i dutifully conceded.

as i pondered how i was going to break the news to brandon, i realized a few things about how vainglorious i was being. i realized if it had been ANY OTHER sport, i would have dropped everything to make it happen. i would have sold stock to pay for it, spent my weekends traveling with the team, figured out ways to get lily to and from practice-- whatever it would take, cuz sports are really that important to me. the more i thought about it, the more i realized what a hypocrite i was being. how can i really encourage my child to be an individual and think for herself and instill confidence in her making her own decisions, when i'm the one dictating what she can and can't like, or worse what is or isn't 'cool.' that's crappy parenting, and i blow it enough to know that i can't blow it on something so glaringly obvious. the right thing to do was to give lily a chance at cheer and support her whole heartedly in it.

so when tuesday finally rolled around and i broke the news that today was the day to try cheer, she looked right at me and told me she just wanted to stick with gymnastics. shocked as i was, my heart lept with joy as i thought, god must be on my side! i was faithful in giving it a chance and he shut the door. i was ready to let it die, but my conscience pricked me. i had to talk this thing thru with her. and wouldn't ya know, before i knew it, i was practically begging her just to try it. begging might be an overstatement, but you get it. my change of heart was surprising to even me. next thing you know, lily dials in the perfect cheer outfit, kisses me goodbye and heads out with the team. i watched her off and on long enough to know that she was really enjoying herself. and like the good coach she is, alyssa came to chat with me a bit before practice ended. she was sweet, and gracious and told me that its been hard to get people to understand what cheer really is. and for those of you like me making flash judgments -- it really is a combination between gymnastics and dance. they learn choreographed routines and incorporate tumbling and dance. when done right, its actually pretty bad ass. as for my concern/lily's absolute delight in the amount of make up they have to wear, alyssa easily explained to me that 'its so the judges can see their faces.' what? just when i was starting to like her. does that even make sense? anyhow, i digress. the talk went well, and just when i was starting to maybe get on board, we got to the ol price point. i basically came away realizing that i need to be a venture capitalist to afford cheer. yet as i sat there watching her smiling and well, learning cheer, i realized even if its only for today, it was worth it. the clock hits 5:30 and she comes bounding over to me and says, 'mom, i loved it. i really, really loved it.' finally, i did something right.

*names have been changed to protect the innocent, and not so innocent*

2011 Tahoe Rim Trail 50 mile

2011-07-27T22:31:00.000-07:00

This:

...is why I prefer to do this:

I peeled off my jacket at 5:55 and handed it to Heeva's dad. Heeva, Jim, and I stood near the front of the lineup which was loosely gathered around what was assumed to be a starting line.

7000 ft. Lake on the right. Blaring spotlights, and generator on the left, buzzing crowd at our back...no gun, no siren. We caught the countdown as it rounded '4' and the RD shouted 'go' over the PA system which was competing with the generator. As is typical, a small pack explodes out the gate and starts churning 7's down the flat fire road leading up the north side of the lake. Some people around me bite--Heeva and I resist the urge, I more so than he. It isn't but a minute until the last glimpses of his platinum locks are out of sight.

2011 Tahoe Rim Trail Endurance Run 50K & 50 Mile start from George Ruiz on Vimeo.

Going from a cold start to the time when I feel warm typically takes 30 minutes, but the fact that the start is a mile on flat certainly helps. We hit the single-track trail up to Marlette lake; 4 miles, +2100 ft. I tuck in behind a guy keeping a mellow but honest pace and we run comfortably in line. I notice he is running with a small evian water bottle and adidas basketball shorts, simple. People burn a lot of energy trying to get by on the left only to make the pass and then slow down--"odd" passes through my mind. Evian and I pass them a couple miles later and I never see them again. We crest the basin that encircles Marlette lake (7823 ft) and a small group of us find a good downhill gear and crank off some good miles down to the fire road that runs north on the east side of the lake. I put off that first gel until my conscience gets the better of me...at 60 minutes I give in, my mental timer resets to 45 minutes for number two. The trail follows a small creek that feeds Marlette on the north side and hits an honest little climb that puts us up on the south end of the sub-alpine meadow that Hobart Aid resides in. It's a beautiful place to be in the morning.

Small Course Map. Large map can be found here.

Pulling into Hobart aid (mile 6) I'm feeling pretty good--that aside from the fact that "California Girls" is playing entirely too loud on some misplaced stereo. The station is set up tits. Jeeps, tents, trucks, stereo's....it's a way-point now, later its impact will change, especially for the 100 milers. Apparently Hobart likes a theme; this year it's Pirates--pirates. I am excited for the year when it's Hooters, mostly cuz I like their wings.

I water and get back on it. My stomach starts to rebel a little, which strikes me as odd because I (almost categorically) never have stomach problems...unless it's 105 and I'm in Pozo with Dube-n-Dusty...

Right out of Hobart we round an east facing slope and are given a quarter mile on snow, it's novel. The short climb up this snow field puts me up in a cloud and the temp drops significantly--it's a good thing I have a pelt. I stay warm enough. The next section of trail is stellar; we pass Marlette Peak, we traverse north along trail and crest what I am told is Harlan Peak before hitting a bitchin' downhill to Twin Lakes (~mile 11). I put it in gear on the downhill and let gravity take over, it feels good to stretch it out a little...maybe a bit reckless this early on but I have a lot of quads to trash so I figured why not.

On the way to Tunnel from Hobart, Marlette lake in the background.

The quick pace on the downhill really stirs up my insides and pulling into Tunnel Creek Aid (~11.5m) I am needing to take care of some business. Somehow they managed to get a porta-john up here and I am thankful. It isn't exactly a NASCAR pit-stop but whatever. Just as I step out of the john and grab my bottles off the ground, Thomas (current TRT 50 mile course record holder) pulls into Tunnel after coming up from the Redhouse loop on the front end of his blazing 100 mile trip. "Time to pick it up buddy" he tells me. He looks strong, like he is enjoying this...I laugh, "tell me about it" I respond and make way down the sandy road on my way into the Redhouse loop. My spirits lift a little as my insides finally start to feel better. Another steep downhill awaits, it's relatively technical and I have fun toying with the occasionally muddy footing. The descent into Redhouse is about 1.5miles, we drop about 1600ft to a low point on the course (6800 ft).


Course profile. Redhouse marked by the A after Tunnel. 100 milers do this 2x.

For some reason the Redhouse loop is on some level inspiration for the "A taste of Hell" portion of the TRT race motto. I don't really get it, but then again it's cool down in the valley--lots of water flowing, our feet get wet. I hear that some years it feels akin to Hanoi; maybe that's where the rumors come from. My shoes get river gravel in them along with a little sand. I am moving pretty well through the bottom of the loop and pass quite a few 100 milers who are being judicious with their pacing. I get stoked to see so many crusty old guys--"these guys are living" I remark internally. F-bingo. We start the climb out of Redhouse back up to Tunnel and break into the first sustained hike of the run. This part looked different coming down. I have a good hike and come back into Tunnel (~17.5m) feeling good.

The actual "Red House"...

Next up, Bull Wheel. 3 rolling but generally uphill miles with a fair amount of snow. My switch flips and I go back to feeling mediocre. It's disheartening. The trip to Bull Wheel is more arduous than it should be. This portion of the Rim Trail though is as picturesque as one might imagine--views of Lake Tahoe abound west, Washoe valley in all of its high desert splendor to the east. Turn your head, pick your view; it's stunning. In spite of my roiling insides and lack of sentimentality I think to myself, "I love this".

I pull into Bull Wheel (~21m) after getting handily passed and dropped by couple of ladies who are moving well...served. I throw down a couple of cups of coke, burnt on gels already. I am determined. Except not 100 meters out of Bull Wheel that familiar feeling comes again and I hike off trail to answer the call...I'm glad that I brought some baby wipes with me. Again I start to feel better and move well over the next 4 miles of rolling trail until we hit the intersection of the Incline Peak trail and bear left...I pickup momentum and start to feel really good. I cruise this downhill noting that I am pretty close to my desired split to get into Diamond Peak Lodge at mile 30. I was shooting for 5:30hrs, given my intestinal setbacks I am happy to note I will probably arrive nearer 5:45hrs. This section of trail is made for a bike; serpentine bermed turns, jumps, perfectly groomed. Parts of it are playful on foot and I ride up the berms but skip the jumps. After a few miles I start to notice the gravel in my shoes and my wet socks but I am intent on hitting my split to Diamond Peak so I ignore it; my family is waiting.

Incline Peak trail dumps us off on the road just above Diamond Peak Lodge. We stopped here yesterday on our way to packet pickup just to have a look--there were some people getting set to hike up the trail for a beaver dam tour. We pass close to Incline Creek as it flows out to the lake I take note of what I guess are beaver dams; I think it's the first time I have ever seen a beaver dam. I pass a couple of families out enjoying the midday warmth and get excited to see my kids. Just down the road from the trail head the orange arrows on the road point us toward the Lodge. I round a row of cars and see Holly and the kids bouncing with excitement, I want to bounce too and as I approach them I hold back tears. I don't really know why I had the urge to cry but it came and went after I passed some salty kisses around. My mom is snapping pictures and I hand my dad a water bottle and ask him to dump a redbull in it. Holly brought a gear bag I had packed the night before and I sit down to clean my socks out, "Why don't you just change your shoes and socks" she says...right, my brain is working slightly sub par at this moment. Heaven comes in the form of dry feet as I pull on my Peak II's, the laces creak as I pull them tight--must be that Montana de Oro dust. My mom puts more sunscreen on my shoulders--it's nice being able to ask something to get done and just let it happen. Holly hands me a turkey/avocado wrap and I scarf it down, the fat tastes right, washing it down with redbull seems like a good choice. I jam my pockets with 6 more gels. We walk over to the aid station, refill water, say our goodbyes and I step off the deck at the Lodge and begin the climb.

Head down, feeling recharged. The longest 2 miles on the planet coming up.

I had heard stories about the climb from Diamond Peak Lodge back up to Bull Wheel. ~1800ft, 1.9 miles. It's hard to fathom just how steep it is. Maybe a mile of it is runnable. The rest is laughable. I fall into a hike and I see Scott's wife come trotting back down the trail. She hiked with him for a bit and indicated he was not too far ahead, Scott is doing the 100 mile--she thinks he's going too fast. Scott's reputation as a hammer when it comes to the ultra-hike is not understated. I put it in gear to try and catch him so we can run together for a bit. No dice. 1.9 miles, 49 minutes. I didn't figure this into my pacing plan.

This is the climb up from Diamond Peak Lodge....I shamelessly poached this picture off of this guys blog, but since I somehow happened to be in it I figured it was cool...don't get mad Greg...somehow I think it might be cool.

I get to the top where the end of the chairlift waits mockingly and attempt to shake my legs out. My quads are hammered from the run down to the lodge, my hamstrings are firing from the climb. I hobble to get going and barely dance down the 200meter decent to Bull Wheel (~32m). "That worked me" I tell the guys drinking beers casually in the wind...they ask if I want to sit down for a minute, "no....no thanks". I grab a couple orange slices looking for sugar. Slowly I start to move and things loosen up a bit...a little faster and it isn't long until my body feels like it's working again. The climb took its toll though. Next time I am buying a lift ticket.

A couple of 100 milers I passed on the climb up to Bull Wheel pass me as I am trying to recompose just outside the aid-station (see that pic above--that's them behind me). I let them go and try to work the kinks out. Ok, time to go. I head off down the trail and run into them again, I am happy to have some heels to hang on to. We run together back to Tunnel at a nice pace. It's nice to listen to their conversation. The lady in front is talking about how she did Hardrock a couple weeks back. My balls all of the sudden feel smaller than usual.

We cruise into Tunnel (~34.5m) and they are taking their time. I water, throw down a couple cups of coke and head out. I know what's coming. That nice descent from Hobart to Tunnel earlier on is replayed in reverse. I mix a lot of hiking in with a moderate pace on the flats and downs. Coming over the trail back to Hobart is a lot of snow. I catch a guy doing the 100 who's positive attitude is contagious, he's in no hurry--he's hooting and hollering, taking pictures of everything in sight; on hindsight who could blame him (turns out he's the guy I poached that pic from above). We get to the back of snow drift that has a 10ft drop down to the trail, the steps that are cut into the face of drift look dangerous. The Hooter plops down on his ass and slides down, of course I am compelled to do the same. We smile and laugh together. It's a nice respite from thinking about salt, water, gel, time...after regaining our feet he keeps his hike up, I pick my feet up and try to capitalize on some good vibes.

I move into Hobart (~40m) knowing that the high point on the course is coming. We bear south-east out of Hobart and spend the next 3 miles going from 7800ft to 9200ft. There's a couple of decent snow drifts along the way once we climb above the tree line. The route starts up the east side of Snow Valley Peak and before summitting circles around to the west face, we traverse a couple miles south along the west side of the ridge. Lake Tahoe dominates the view to the west. The wind makes this portion of the run uncomfortable. The south side of the traverse leads to a quarter mile downhill section of trail that leads to Snow Valley aid. Only Boy Scouts would man this aid station and be having fun. It's windy, cold, and less than half way over. I fill one water bottle, throw down some mountain dew, and follow a giant swedish guy out of the tents back into the wind.

Mile 43. 7 to go. All downhill. Ikea sort of flits down the trail ahead of me, oddly he runs with his arms down by his sides--there's a lot of large rocks and I am sort of worried for him but he seems comfortable so I retreat back to my own issues.

the start of the descent down to the finish....7 miles down. Lake Tahoe facing.

My quads are talking to me but I ignore them because at least I can get a good rhythm and it doesn't mean I am redlining. Ikea lets me pass and for the next 45 minutes I battle the voice inside asking to walk. Below the tree line things warm quickly and I eventually pass a guy who is obviously not feeling well, I notice he has a 50k number on...he's been out for a long time. I encourage him and tell him he's almost there--maybe 3 more miles. I should have given him a gel; but that doesn't dawn on me until I am drinking a recovery beer.

Surprisingly I run into Dusty. He's running back on the course to catch a runner he is supposed to be pacing for the 100. She's apparently not feeling well and is in need of assistance. Dusty runs 15 miles back to get her, then they short cut it back to the car...yet another reason ultra's are awesome. Camaraderie.

I am determined to push from here on out. For the first time I look at the total elapsed time on my watch. I'm discouraged but not surprised that I am an hour off my goal. The final 1.7 miles around the east shore of Spooner Lake is amazing...and flat. The aspen trees are almost glittering in the late afternoon sun, this might be the best section of trail that I have ever run.

rounding Spooner Lake, you can just make out the white tent at the finish through the trees at left.

Rounding the lake I occasionally look over at the tents on the shore indicating the finish line and they never seem to get any closer...5 minutes I tell myself. The trail makes a quick step up and we run 100meters on a fire road before dropping to the right down closer the lake on a small section of single track. The finish comes into focus I see my parents standing in the scrub along the side of the trail. There's Holly...there's the finish.

my wonderfully patient family...

-done.

There's probably more to say but blogging is approaching tedium on my part...so, thanks for reading my long winded account of one day. In close, it was a very special event in a very special place, surrounded by some very special people.

Brandon

amazon.com for president.

2011-07-24T14:43:00.000-07:00

so i wanted to take a minute to fill you in on why amazon might be the best company ever. if you know me at all, you know that i'm pretty die hard amazon. i've been a prime member for years, and chances are i've ordered something for you to capitalize on the free shipping. well, my faith in amazon became even greater when b got me a kindle (seeing as how it's one of the greatest products ever invented). i was a bit reluctant at first being the paper snob i am, but in no time at all i wasn't lookin back. so, it would come as quite a tragedy when life with my kindle ended so abruptly.

i wrote this email to amazon.com. it explains a bit about what happened...

Dear Kindle Gods,
Here's the deal... My husband gave me a kindle last year for my 31st birthday. I didn't even know I wanted one! But, I'm an avid reader and a mother of 3 kids under 6. Little did I know, I'm as prime of a candidate as they come. I got my first book and the leather black cover with the book light and seriously my world changed forever! I loved every second with it. Just recently someone gave me a paperback book to read and it was awful having to turn pages and fuss with a book light after months of my little black (kindle) book. I couldn't believe what a snob I had become. The next morning in my haste, I swore off all non kindle books forever. In that same instant, I grabbed my kindle off my nightstand and threw it in my laundry basket (full of darks) with every intention to get a new book that morning. However, this never happened, cuz as I began to head downstairs, the baby started crying and I got distracted by breakfast, cartoons and saying goodbye to my husband. An hour or so later I remembered the laundry I had to get done and hastily threw it in the washer.... kindle and all! It wasn't till the baby went down for a nap that I remembered I wanted to get a new book and I couldn't find my kindle. A pang of terror struck me as I remembered putting it in the laundry... I couldn't have! Sure enough I could and I did... Needless to say, my kindle was not able to recover from such an episode... I tried the ol bag of rice trick, but it really looks as though the screen is cracked... It's such a sad, sad story.
So here's the deal. I love amazon with all my heart. I've been a prime member for years, I don't buy anything, anywhere without checking amazon first. Not to mention I'm basically a kindle rep-- based on my recommendation alone, 5 of my friends have bought one... one was trying to get the nook--(aghast) but I steered her on the one true and right path! Times are tight for everyone, and I don't ever do this, but I really loved that kindle... I'm just an average smokin hot stay at home mom, with nothing to gain but begging for a little mercy from the amazon kindle powers such as yourselves. If you can find it in your heart (or the warehouse:) to possibly slip one in the mail (used or new), I will be eternally grateful. I'll even pimp you guys out on my blog-- not that you need it-- after all you are amazon.com, but hey who can say no to a little free advertising right?
So with all that said, I don't even know if this is the right department for such situations, but if there's anyway you could send it to someone who might care, I would love you forever.
Thanks so much for your time.
Eternally yours,
Holly Rodgers

there you have it. i laid it all out, and not two hours later i got this...

Hello,

I'm sorry to hear about the trouble you've had with your Kindle, but we will need to speak with you on the phone in order to process a replacement for your Kindle.

You can reach us by phone directly and toll free from many countries by clicking the Contact Us option in the right-hand column of our Kindle Support pages at:

http://www.amazon.com/kindlesupport

When you visit our website and select Contact Us, click on the "Phone" tab, enter your number, and we’ll call you right back.

Contacting us through the website allows you to verify security before a call is placed and ensures we have your account information ready when we call you. If your country isn’t listed or you’re unable to take advantage of the Contact Us feature, you can call us directly at 1-877-453-4512 or 1-206-922-0844 (if you're calling from outside the U.S.).

We hope you can call us soon so we can help solve this problem quickly.

Thank you for your recent inquiry. Did I solve your problem?

If yes, please click here:
http://www.amazon.com/gp/help/survey?p=A1HLA8Z7DLVUQB&k=hy

If no, please click here:
http://www.amazon.com/gp/help/survey?p=A1HLA8Z7DLVUQB&k=hn

Ravi V

well, ravi, you did not solve my problem, but hell yes i'll call your toll free number. lo and behold, i explained my case to a certain young man called 'joby' and tuesday afternoon i will be the new recipient of a brand new kindle. can you even believe it?

they totally did not have to do this. i took a chance and told the truth (i was super tempted to lie and say the screen just cracked- knowing they would replace it) but instead i admitted it was totally my fault and they didn't owe me anything.... and they, or god, or whoever honored that. my faith has been restored in big corporations (not that it was ever really in question), but seriously super cool.

so that's it for now. just wanted to tell you guys this awesome story. i'll be back to reading tuesday, which likely means less blogging... but keep checking back cuz a certain ultra-runner i share a bed with is working on a special guest blogging appearance right here at holdmama! so stay tuned. and happy reading.

in process part 6

2011-06-30T07:59:00.000-07:00

well for starters, no real news to report. we are still waiting. waiting, but quite pateniently i might add. having three kids gives me little time to think about much else. but at least once a day, i'll find myself thinking about him. whether its when i'm folding laundry, or rocking tali to sleep, or praying with the kids before bed, somehow, someway our son comes to mind. when i think about him, i feel a surge of happiness and contentment fully trusting (today at least) that god's will will be done and he will bring him home in his due time. as far as news from ethiopia, it appears the adoptions are still going strong and the slowdown they predicted a few months back seems to be much better than they thought. after that news i think i kind of began preparing myself for the what if. i know as excited as i am, there is still a part of me that wants to hold back a little knowing that the unknown is very much a real thing. it's funny though, cuz when i try and talk about it with b, he seems unfazed. every so often he'll just ask me and the kids out of the blue what our et son is doing right now. oz usually ventures he might be playing on his ipad. oh the ignorance of privileged american children....

i was going through my adoption journal the other day and came across this entry. kind of gives you birds eye view into the homestudy portion of our process.

10/13/10-- well we met with our social worker for the first time yesterday. it went really well. i honestly had no idea what to expect. this whole process feels a lot like we are just blindly fumbling our way along. perhaps that's why sometimes i feel defensive about people's reaction. but i can't tell you how encouraging it is to be with people that really understand... and know. people like this woman. she was really great, you could tell that she really LOVES kids and they are always her first priority. she asked us a bunch of questions, one in particular that everyone thinks but only some dare to ask.

'so, as you know your son will be african, as in he will have black skin. he will look very different than the rest of your family. how do you feel you will be able to handle people's comments and stares?'

since i was consciously trying not to answer every question and allow b to talk, i tried to defer to him. it was then we i realized in a lot of ways that b grew up in a similar way. as some of you know, b's brother is developmentally disabled. he was born 3 months premature and has hydrocephalus, mild autism, and mild cerebral palsey. he's a great guy, loves soda, farts, facial hair and music. a real crowd pleaser to say the least. but it goes without saying that he was very different than most of b's friends siblings. as i heard b began to explain to this woman how aware he has always been of people staring and off-hand comments, it made me realize in a lot of ways he is more prepared for an african son than i thought. it also helped me understand why it is that b could seriously care less what people think of him (often to a fault in my opinion). but seriously, as someone who has always cared to much about what people think, it's trippy for me to think about. as he continued to speak about his experience with dustin as a brother, so much became clear. ever since i've known b, he's never been embarrased or made excuses for his brother. he is able to accept all of him fully. and that in itself is such a feat.

i can't tell you how often i feel the need to make excuses for my kids. for their behaviour, their clothes, their shortcomings. when i get down to the root of it, its totally pride. i want my kids to give off the image that they are great, happy well adjusted kids. kids who eat ~~all their vegetables~~ anything, kids who are polite, kids who have a good attitude and can get over things fast. but the reality is, they continually fall short of these things. its been so humbling for me to have kids that are not people pleasers. they in a lot of ways like their father could care less what people think. finally, i have reason to feel thankful for this. for when their brother does come and they get those snarky comments about his skin color, they can just get their rude on and for once i'll be proud of it.
lily started kindergarten a couple months back. they say time will start to fly by. i can't wait to write those words about our son.

he will start kindergarten some day, with us. here, in our town, in our home. it will be just as hard to let him go, but again the reminder- they are more god's than ours, and today i am so thankful for that.

summer hell

2011-06-08T12:03:00.000-07:00

for most of us summer means sun, vacations, relaxation and poolside bbq's. i can barely recall, but i'm pretty sure there was a time in my life where this applied to me.

however, these days summer means something entirely different. no sun, just fog, no relaxing cuz there is no school, and as for the pool, all that i'll be doing near a pool is listening to my children scream their way through swim lessons. but worst of all, all three of my kids are home all day.
seriously, i can't even begin to comprehend how this is going to look.

i know, i know. i'm being super dramatic. heck, all kinds of ~~crazy~~ moms stay home with their kids all year long-- its called homeschooling, and undoubtedly my own private hell. after having my first kid in school the whole year, i honestly can't imagine life without dropping her off everyday for 4 sweet hours. props to you mom who stays home all day and loves it. no joke, i'm seriously considering a part time job just to get away...

in all seriousness though, i really am having some anxiety about having to be home alone with them all day. i never thought i would say two kids is easy! any combination of my two is easy. its when all three are together that i start to unravel. i've come to terms with the work part of it all. one of my life slogans is 'why stand when you can sit, and why sit when you can lay down.' yet i've come to terms with this. i never sit. ever. and if i do, i'm folding laundry. and if, for some strange moment, all my kids are occupied and i do sit down, i literally fall asleep within 5 minutes. and then as soon as i've been asleep for 45 seconds, someone needs their butt wiped, or tali falls off the kitchen table, or lily can't find that one pair of shoes. and then i'm so mad, cuz i was sleeping and someone woke me up. and then i'm grumpy cuz i'm tired and want more than anything to just check out. so the moral of the story is, i never sit down from 7:30-5:30. that's the only way to ensure i won't rage on my kids, actually there's really no way to ensure that.

yet i digress... so if it's not the busy part of having three kids, what is so hard? one word. fighting. my older two fight all day long. and it's a long day. i've tried everything-- ignoring it, intervening as soon as it gets tense, and every manner of discipline, but nothing works. the constant tension just makes all of us on edge. it's some bad juju in this house and it can feel so suffocating.

but if i'm really honest, perhaps the hardest part of all of it is just feeling like i'm failing. this is my job, and i kind of suck at it. i am so thankful to be able to stay at home with my kids. i love that i get to take and pick them up every day from school, that when they are sick, i'm there. i love not missing anything in their lives. it is such an honor and privilege to have this calling. and trust me you know you're failing when you start praying things like, 'lord i pray they won't remember this day, or this hour or this summer...' i want so bad to be good at what i do and raise happy, healthy, god fearing, loving children. i don't want people to think gosh she sure complains a lot, why did she have so many kids if all she does is complain.... and then the adoption--- it seems so much more intense then just having four bio kids. i'm actively choosing and advocating for this child, bringing him into a home that's full of love and a place where he is wanted. i mean, i really have got to have it together. the stakes seem so much higher...

so i guess what i'm saying is, thanks for letting me vent. if you have any ideas besides drinking in the daytime, don't hesitate to enlighten me. but most of all, please don't judge me, just pray for me this summer. pray for me when you find yourself lounging poolside, reading people and drinking a margarita. i'll be folding laundry... standing up.

yup, this is what i'm up against.

vacation priveleged

2011-05-18T13:42:00.000-07:00

lately a few people have been calling us 'vacation privileged,' somehow i'm still not sure if that is a compliment. but in any event, i will concede we've been able to swing a few getaways these last six months.

how could i ~~easily~~ forget our little trip to vegas. probably the coolest thing about this one, besides being sans kids, was that is was 100% free! free flights to and from, free room at the wynn, and free drinks and dinner the entire time in exchange for some riveting conversations about coolers, chillers and units. aside from my little slip up at the world's largest forever 21, we made out like bandits in vegas.

next up was tahoe. tahoe, oh tahoe. truckee truly is my home away from home-- it is so good for my soul. this was a last chance for us at truckee. sadly our days there are going to be much more limited from here on out, so even though this trip was last minute, we just had to take advantage of it!

lastly, we had the biggie. one of the coolest things about b's grandma was how much she loved to travel. it was kind of her 'thing' to take the whole family (her two sons and their families) on a big trip every year. she took us to costa rica, a cruise to the carribean, and a cruise to mexico in the years i was part of the family before she passed away. b's parents seem to be in the business of carrying on this tradition with some ~~heavy~~ nudging from us. so around the first of the year, we got out the calender and began planning where we should go. we suggested somewhere 'easy' simply because of the three crazies that would be accompanying us. b and i love mexico... before the kids we drove and camped in baja, and after the kids we visited the blackwells a couple of times in san jose del cabo and even took one trip to zihuatanejo with some friends a few years back. out of all of those, we knew san jose would be the easiest to swing with the kids. it was familiar, the flight was short, and b's parents time share group had places there. before we knew it, the resort and flights were booked, all courtesy of the rodgers in the spirit of grandma! since we had six months to prepare, i began saving a wee bit of money here and there and hiding it in one of the books on the bookshelf. i had done pretty good, till we had to unexpectedly get our septic tank pumped (the joys of the LO life). regardless, we were going and it was going to be awesome.

so here are some pictures and my regular trip rendition of highs and lows.

highs

-getting tali's carseat on the plane. there was ONE extra seat on that flight and god's grace was manifested through the ticket agent guy-- either that or he saw tali stomping around and crying like a crazy person cuz i wouldn't give her a sucker.

-swim up bar. never, ever underestimate their power.

-happy hour. drinks at these resorts can be pretty pricey, but it seemed like happy hour was every hour. which may or may not have been the case, but being able to say 'just charge it to room 1116' made everything seem free.

-realizing my latina roots are still alive and kicking. getting my bronze on asap. also realizing that although the chicano skipped oz, both my girls have an uncanny ability to bronze. they will thank me profusely one day as they lounge their bronzed bodies about in avila.

-the spirit of bo derrick is alive and kicking. lily with 38 tiny braids all through her hair. the girl sat there still as stone, as alecia worked her rocket fueled fingers through lily's blond locks.

-getting in some quality time with the in-laws. it was really cool to see the kids loving them so much. nonna doing all kinds of art with lily, and pop pop taking ozzy on water dragon adventures.

-tali loves the water. i don't want to jinx it or get to excited, but it would appear that maybe, just maybe one of our kids will swim before the age of 10.

-virgin strawberry daiquiris. that's all i drank the whole time... physch! no, really the kids discovered these and couldn't get enough of them or as they call them with a huge giggle, strawberry diarrhea's.

-both of my girls now own high heels. only in mexico.

-swim up bar. yes, again.

-realizing how much our friends have become family. wishing they were there... b announcing/declaring (during happy hour on multiple occasions) one day we will be rich enough to take them all here! we'll look forward to that greg.

-black out curtains. the resort rooms had those black out curtains, and my kids slept like logs. tali was taking 3 hr naps and sleeping in till 9 most days.

-tali learning to say hola. perfectly. L rolled flawlessly.

-realizing ozzy is more comfortable with mexicans than gringos. he must've said 'hola amigo' to every mexican dude he saw.

-jacuzzi tub in the rooms. we spent a lot of time in here with the kids. don't hold your breath, but its possible you too will get a *naked* picture of the rodgers family for your next christmas card.

-reading bossypants poolside with a margarita in hand. that's when you know you've arrived.

lows

-the flight back was completely booked. this meant no carseat for tali. she was crazy. you know you are in for it when they are actually refusing starbust's and suckers cuz they've had that many.

-the days, there were only a couple of them, but the days that happy hour won. those weren't so good.

-consuming 60,000 calories. a day. seriously i haven't ate or drank that much since never. either never or back when i ate two cheese bagels from boston bagels for lunch in high school. whatever the case, i easily put on some lb's.

so there you have it. clearly the highs greatly outweigh the lows. big thanks once again to nonn and pop for their endless generosity and taking us on a vacation we never could've have swung. you guys are awesome!

enjoy the pictures... it may seem like a lot, but i narrowed 40 or so down from 250. your welcome.

lucky 13

2011-04-27T11:24:00.000-07:00

my mom comes from a fairly large family. there were 4 girls and 2 boys. both brothers have passed as well as one sister. my mom is super close with one of her sisters in particular, she always has been. this particular sister we'll call aunt merilyn-- mostly cuz that's her name. anyhow, this aunt of mine has 13 kids.

13. all with one brave man, all out her very own lady parts, and none of the 13 being multiples.

telling the story of my aunt with 13 kids is one of my favorite to tell, its up there with i can say the alphabet backwards, i was homecoming queen, and of course the time when ben harper almost kissed me. all of these get a great reaction, but the 13 kids for whatever reason usually gets the most play.

needless to say going to my aunt and uncle's house for holidays was a dream come true for a girl with one brother who is 7 years older. as a child i remember their house being very large. it was in stockton, so naturally it was all fenced in--almost like a compound. they had tennis courts, a basketball hoop, a pool, a play structure and a huge grassy area for playing soccer and tag. being the tomboy that i ~~was~~ am, i spent a lot of time outside, but when i did venture in i spent the bulk of my time in one of the back bedroooms. surprisingly, not one of the kids was my exact age, but there was a trio of girls that i was closest in age to. their room was very pink, with three pink twin beds equa-distance apart, and huge closets. there was a bathroom attached to the room that was shared with some of the other older kids. its funny to think there were even rooms there cuz i'm pretty sure most of the kids slept in their parents room, either on the bed, or the floor, or wherever they could find space.
aside from a raspy voice you would kill for, and thick brown hair, they were all very much individuals. i learned so much from them without them even knowing. i must share some comedy genes with tara, janai and i helped provoke each others rebellious sides by sneaking our grandma's smokes, and danielle always made me want to try harder to be pretty. of course the boys made their mark too, i loved playing with brandon when i needed a break from the girls, and jason, jordan and giovanni were great pals to me as well.

when i tell people about my aunt having 13 kids they usually say something like, 'oh wow, she must have run a tight ship!' or 'oh you mean like the duggars?' or even better, 'you have to be so organized to manage that many kids, how did she do it?' i usually just nod and smile, and try to recall as much as i can about how in fact she did do it. because aside from having a 12 passenger van, and 2 washers and 2 dryers, she really had nothing in common with the duggars or jon and kate. it took me going back to their house as an adult to realize just how bare bones that house was. i mean i remember cereal, and toast with butter-- that, and maybe some canned soup was all you would find in the cupboards any given day. kids would watch out for each other, but it didn't stop them from getting hurt, or crying, or wanting more attention. they were normal kids of course, but they were... happy. and that's the craziest thing of all....

so happy with their upbringing in fact, that one of the girls has seven kids of her own, another five... ironically the boys all have 1, maybe 2. but the girls, they just keep em coming like their momma did. even though i wasn't in that family, i know my desire to have a big family came in large part from the time i spent with them.

when i start to get ocd about my kids behaviour and well being and what they do and don't eat, or feel guilty about having 4 kids one day like its to many to love and care for... i think back to my cousins. all 13 of them. sure they've had their struggles like us all, but they've all turned into adults any parent would be so proud of. 13 kids, all doing great, that's more than remarkable, its miraculous!

so this goes out to you all my lovely orlando cousins, please.... please let's get going on a memoir. tell me your stories... we'll do this. it will be awesome.

in process part 5

2011-04-05T11:57:00.000-07:00

i thought i'd take a minute to update y'all on whats been happening with our adoption. if we're friends on fb or in real life, you might already have a pretty good idea, but for the rest of you here's a wee update.

the biggest of the big is that we are finally, officially, DTE (dossier to ethiopia) status. as i explained before, once your dossier (big, crazy ass bunch of papers detailing every corner of your life) goes to ethiopia, you are officially on the waiting list. so with that said, all we have left to do is wait... awhile. like at least a year.
its funny though, cuz as much as i long for the day that he comes home, god has given me an impressive patience and peace about it. for the first time possibly ever, i really feel like i can trust his timing to be perfect. it also helps that besides pining away, there really is nothing i can do to speed up the process.
its been fun around the house lately. we've officially named him, so its been super cool to hear the kids talk about him like he's already part of the family. lily asking me to buy tom's for her with the request that the pair that goes to a kid without shoes would be to a kid in ET who happens to be her brother (the girl will do anything for ~~charity~~ shoes )... or oz reminding me not to forget to pray for his brother at night before bed. as much as i know it won't be easy peasy once he gets here, i know that God's grace is and will be sufficient for us. and today, that's enough. so if you find yourself wondering what's up with our adoption any time in the next year, just know nothing really.... we are just waiting...

it's a bit out of context, but i was going through my adoption journal the other day and found this entry. it's kind of random, but really reveals my heart and the way in which the process has stirred so many feelings and emotions...

8/8/10 i was out running today and i got to thinking...

i'm not sure how old i was when i realized that my life isn't like the movies. for a long time, i was pretty sure i was molly ringwald (but hotter:) and my blane or jake would come rescue me. it might have been after my first broken heart, when i honestly felt like i could never love again, let alone even get out of bed. the depth of my pain felt so suffocating -- surely this isn't what john hughes saw for my life.

and then i grew up and fell in love with a man that couldn't hold a candle to jake. and we dreamed about what our life would be like and the little mini-us's we'd create. they's have blue eyes and brown hair and be so funny and outgoing and well behaved (one can dream right?) b and i would watch movies like the family stone and think about having a big, happy, slightly eccentric family...
and then the day came when i held my firstborn in my hands and it was then and there that i knew i had never known a love like this. yet somehow, miraculously i did. 3 times. and in my heart i know that i can do it again. not just cuz children make us smile, and feel whole and happy, but because they make us better. they make us want to try harder, to love deeper, to take bigger risks. because when we look in their eyes we see a hope and an idea that really anything is possible.

i know when i hold him in my arms, that feeling will come again. not because he's mine, but because he's God's and the day i was born, God knew that my lastborn son would complete our family in a way i never could have dreamed. i cannot wait to see the magic in those deep, dark eyes.

think we can squeeze one more on there?

february wrap up

2011-03-21T11:56:00.000-07:00

so part of my blogging resolution to include more pictures is actually coming to fruition! unfortunately, we still haven't made the plunge to get a new camera, but to hold us over we have b's parents fancy pants camera that takes amazing pictures.

february was kind of an action packed month for us. b and i went away for the first time ever from all 3 kids. i was ready to compose a full blown blog for my trip to vegas, but then i realized i'd probably get a little to heady about the whole thing... you know seeing old white men schmoozing young hookers in upscale bars, or hearing, ahem, some late night entertainment in the next room, or just being indoors for 3 days straight- it was enough to make anyone crazy. but despite the lows, it was pretty dreamy just being with the dude with no other responsibilities. i felt scandalous at how selfish i got to be--- spending all day at the spa, ordering an $80 lunch room service, shopping at the world's largest forever 21.... i'll admit to go from getting maybe a half hour to myself each day, which is dreamily spent reading a book or cat napping to 3 whole days of the most indulgent place on earth-- it was almost too much, yet i somehow managed:) to sum it up, vegas is def not my first choice in a vacation, but being put up at the wynn for 2 nights and having all these cheesy hvac guys buyin us drinks and dinners made it tolerable. needless to say, i got my 'vegas' fix for the next 100 years or so.
while we were gone, b's parents stepped in, or should i say stepped up to the challenge of 3 crazy mofo's. here are some pics that proved they not only did stellar, but that the kids loved every minute of it...

preparing for her future.

pop pop logged some serious floor hours running cars with oz

had to call in the reserves... aunty allison to the rescue!

wouldn't be a visit from nonna without her famous sugar cookies

this frosting is pretty good.

besties.

i could gaze into those eyes forever.

probably the weirdest picture ever. people always say tali is like a doll, but seriously this is creepy.

most of the fun of these pictures was seeing how the rodgers tried to manage t's hair....

table work.

wink wink.

hair bear

so there you have it. the kids really had a blast, and since everything went so smoothly, we will definitely be employing the rodgers' overnight services as often as possible! and as for any pictures we took in vegas? yeah, we don't have a single one to show for our trip. its almost like we were never there.

next up in february, we went to disneyland for oz's 4th birthday. we took lily when she turned four- kind of seems like the perfect age. since oz had never been, he really had no idea what to expect, but no joke at least once a week he asks me when we can go back. it really is the happiest place on earth.
we left early on a tuesday morning with b's parents and brother in tow. my mom stayed back with tali so we could really maximize our time. when we went last time, lily was pretty into all the rides, but wasn't tall enough for some of the bigger ones. this time, lily and oz were tall enough for every ride there except indiana jones. now, we had pretty low expectations since our kids are extremely cautious-- like to a fault. they never take risks, and always assess every situation for danger. we figured we'd be spending most of our time on the kiddie rides, but straight out of the gate they wanted to head for pirates of the caribbean. with that under our belt, they were fearless! we worked our way up slowly... thunder mountain, then the mattlehorn, and then thanks to uncle d's urging, we all went on space mountain. it was crazy! i couldn't believe it. i wish sooooo badly i bought the picture they take when you are on the ride. oz and i had landed the front row with b and lils right behind us. the look on oz's face was priceless-- sheer terror! it was so crazy to be zooming around on that ride and literally having to hold their heads up cuz the gravity was so strong pulling them in every direction. i thought for sure oz would start freaking out-- yet the dude just manned up. of course he didn't want to go back on, and to this day he will randomly announce that space mountain is the scariest place on earth. another dream was fulfilled on our trip as we opted to spend the big bucks and eat at the blue bayou (the restaraunt that's in the pirates ride). b confessed its always been a childhood dream of his to eat there, so we told the broyles (who we were meeting at disneyland for the day) to make reservations and just like that, another wish granted. the day was altogether amazing. the longest we waited for a ride was for 20 minutes-- and that was for the nemo submarine ride--- last time i checked people wait like 2 hrs to go on it! the kids most favorite ride was thunder mountain. since the park was practically empty, we would ride and then literally hop right back on. no line at all! needless to say we scored! the next day was more of the same. it was a really cool trip and one that i know we will all look back with such fondness... here are a few pics to go with it!

she basically ate that whole thing

brothers

watching their favorite ride thunder mountain zoom by

why yes, it is a small world after all

too cute

i'm like that guy in the chair from the maxell ad in the 80's

he's a looker alright.

why yes, i am wearing shorts.

i know, i thought it was captain jack sparrow too!

lily used her toy $$ for a pirate get up.

and that my friends was february!

heavy heart monday

2011-03-09T11:47:00.000-08:00

i had exactly 27 minutes to get a run in.

i was supposed to meet this woman at uptown at 10:30 who had also adopted from ethiopia and used the same agency as me. i really couldn't be late, despite my desire to run longer than a half hour.
i parked at mitchell park, threw tali in the stroller and headed up pismo st. i always go up pismo st, because the house my mom and i moved into after my parents divorce is on that street, and running in that neighborhood always brings back fond memories. i took a left on toro and vacillated for a minute as to whether or not i wanted to go up the secret little path behind scolari's. i decided yes at the last second and swung the stroller wide right and practically bumped into three super old people shuffling their way down the path. this is why i never go this way... for some reason there are always people on this obscure little path i thought to myself. i stopped the stroller and moved out of the way so they could pass and nodded politely to them. as they sloooowly made their way by, i looked over to the stairs at the back door of the grocery store a few feet up from me and saw 4 kids hanging out. typical slo high slackers i thought to myself as i picked up my momentum and made my way up the path. on a whim, i glanced the kids direction one last time. it took a few seconds for me to register what i saw. but as the path ended it became clear. the girl on the stairs was literally cutting a line with her atm card on what appeared to be a history book.
cutting a line. on the back steps of scolaris at 10 in the morning on a monday.
my heart started pounding. i stopped the stroller at the end of the path where i was out of sight from them. i couldn't even process what i was seeing. its not like i've never been around drugs, but there is something so caustic about snorting drugs. especially meth, which is likely what it was (and don't even get me started on that demonic drug-- seriously there is nothing romantic or fun about meth- it's literally death. you are literally snorting death).
the conversation in my head went a little like this... what do i do? what do i do? i should call the cops. yeah, totally. i'll just call the cops and they'll come deal with these kids and teach them a lesson. i can't do that. what am i gonna do, call 911 and say what? there's kids doing drugs behind scolari's? i should go talk to them. yeah, i really should. i can't do that! what am i going to say? i'm not a recovered drug addict or motivational speaker...they'll just think who does this crazy mom think she is? i have to go. i'm going. i'm gonna talk to them.
so i turned my stroller around and started walking back... i uttered a quick, 'lord please give me the words to say, cuz i have no idea what is going to come out of my mouth.'

i walk up and their stuff is put away, and they are just sitting there talking. when they see me, they shut up immediately. i notice there are two girls and two boys. the girl i saw cutting the line is sitting on the steps. there is a brown haired boy sitting behind her, and then a blond boy standing next to her. the other girl is leaning on the railing. i notice they are all well dressed, well groomed, attractive kids.

'guys, guys, seriously-- what are you doing?' i implore as i approach.
they all look down to the ground. no one will make eye contact with me, and no one says a word.
'listen, i'm not an idiot. i went to slo high, i cut class and went up to the old junior high and did stupid shit too. but seriously, the stuff you are messing with is not okay. its really not okay. on so many levels. that stuff will really, truly ruin your life. i can promise you that. i had friends that messed with it, and trust me the road back is long and hard.'
silence from all of them.
'hey!' i say to the girl on the steps. 'hey you, look at me.' she looks up as i pull back the shade on tali's stroller. they are literally at eye level. 'look in her eyes. look in my baby girl's eyes. you were once this little you know. you were once this little girl, and you have a mom and a dad who LOVE you. i mean, really, really LOVE you, and if they knew you were doing this, they would be heartbroken.'
she looks down to the ground, and doesn't say a word.
i press on, 'i want you to look at her. maybe you don't have a mom or a dad at home or whatever, i don't know your situation, but i can promise you wherever they are, there heart would literally break to know this is what you are doing. it would break their heart, i promise you that.'
she stares at the ground. its getting intense, when suddenly the tall blond boy next to her looks at me and says with definite attitude, 'okay. okay!'
i turn my attention from the girl to him and look him square in the eyes and say, 'hey, watch the attitude alright! listen, i'm not going to the call the cops. but seriously, you guys need to stop this. stop doing this and go back to school.'
with one last look at the girl on the steps i turn the stroller around and start running. when i'm safely out of eyesight i just start crying. i start thinking about my kids and its all to much. i start thinking about those kids, and their parents and i can't stop.

i don't know if those kids will ever think about what i said. and as hard as it was for me to muster up the courage to talk to them, i have zero regrets. sure i've thought and re-thought all the other things i could have, or should have said, but when it was all said and done, i felt like god had given me the words to get my point across.
that morning in the shower while i was praying for my day, i didn't pray for anything out of the ordinary... patience with the kids, energy to get my stuff done, grace for my husband. the thing is, we never know when god is going to put something like that in our path. i can't tell you how many times i wished i would have stepped out in faith when presented with a situation. you never know what god will use in people's life. chances are those kids just dismissed me as some whack job mom, but i feel confident and so thankful that god gave me the opportunity to love those kids and even more thankful that i was obedient to walk it out.

maybe it is in these eyes...

in process part 4

2011-03-02T09:51:00.000-08:00

thanks for the questions. just cuz they are all so awesome, b and i are gonna tag team it up. it's a blogging first-- me and b writing together, should be interesting...

and quick disclaimer-- i am in no way an expert on this process. there is a lot i don't know. this has just been my personal experience thus far... we still have a long way to go and much more to learn. by being transparent in these questions and the process in general, it is my hope that it would de-mystify some of the notions people may have about adoption, and hopefully encourage anyone who is on the fence to take the plunge!

1. have you always known you were going to adopt?

(H)- yes and no. for a long time i didn't think i even wanted to have kids... then i got married and a baby seemed like the next step, but like most girls, i thought wouldn't be able to have kids for no real reason. it was probably then that adoption first entered my mind. not having any idea about anything, i was sure it was something i would want to do. once we got pregnant with lily it fell to the back of my mind. every so often i'd hear stories, or meet people that had adopted and those desires would be rekindled, but i felt pretty overwhelmed with just trying to figure out the one i had... five years later i had 3 kids, and its really then that the desire to adopt came on the forefront. in our past discussions about adoption brandon felt strongly about wanting to adopt domestically (more on that later). when we talked it out and decided international adoption was for us, we felt a real strong pull towads haiti. i was still pregnant with tali at the time, so we weren't going to do anything soon, but after some preliminary research we were confident it would be haiti when the time came. a few short months later the earthquake hit, and we quickly realized that haitian adoptions were going to be on hold for awhile. it was then that we found our way to ethiopia. i had heard from a few people that the process was the easiest there and the need was great, so we thought, why not?!

when people ask me why i want to adopt, i sometimes feel super tongue tied, like i need to have some profound answer. but the reality is i just want to, and god has provided the means to do so, so we are walking forward in faith.

(B)-I don’t really know…I had some reservations for sure. Logically it made good sense: I wanted to have another kid, Holly didn’t really want to get pregnant again, and we had the capacity to love another kid as our own so why not?! Functionally we could provide a good home full of love so it didn’t seem like such a crazy idea…except how was I going to pay for it?! I had some reservations going into it because of some things I had seen on TV about the way adoption (especially interracial adoption) was being portrayed in the media as sort of a popular thing to do—like having an interracial family was trendy, which is total bullshit as is much of the media hype surrounding pop-culture…for whatever reason it’s pretty natural for me to aggressively resist pop-fads (or just fads in general, though I did have a mullet in 7^th grade…) and even the slightest media buzz about something so personal unfortunately had an impact on me (I am ashamed to say); that until I decided I could give a shit about what Brad and Angelina do and if the media wants to titillate the readers of US Weekly with spam about a black child as an accessory then they can poison their own conscience but they can’t have mine.

The Bible commends adoption, I know in my heart it is as right as rain and that is that.

2. why aren't you adopting domestically?

(H)- honestly, i really don't know much about domestic adoption. the things i do know is that it is very pricey for a private infant adoption and they are in high demand. when it comes to 2 and older typically you are able to adopt through the foster system which is not expensive. since we intend to adopt a child that is between 12-24 months, i honestly don't feel like my strengths would lie in adopting a child that age that has been in and out of foster care in this country. i also don't feel like our family would be up to taking the risk of having a child come be with us for awhile and then have to leave (which can happen in foster situations). a lot of people have a lot of opinions about foster care/adoption in this country. instead of focusing on that, i'll tell you more why we chose ethiopia (ET). ET is one of the least expensive countries to adopt from. in terms of country relations, our embassy's currently get along great. the process tends to be quick and easy compared to most other countries, and there is a HUGE need for adoptive parents—as in 5 million children waiting for care. this is due primarily to HIV/AIDS, starvation and disease. the combination of need, ease and cost all made ET the natural choice for us.

(B)-I can be a little more raw on this one…and when you say to yourself (about me), “how could you?!” I’ll say, “I'm a realist Focker…” My position on this is based purely on supposition and my claims are largely unsubstantiated, however that being said I do not feel they are completely off base. I was initially very bent on adopting domestically—it seemed to me that it didn’t matter, a kid who needs a home is a kid who needs a home, why must it be more complicated than that? Well, stop and consider for a minute the circumstances normally surrounding adoption both domestic and international…in my estimation domestic adoptions do not typically arise from the fact that one or both birth parents may have died from disease or some combination of natural factors medical or otherwise—typically domestic adoptions are from force of necessity; young mom/parents don’t want a child (this seems the cleanest/least damaging), drug abuse, sexual abuse, physical abuse, psychological abuse…on and on, but the bottom line revolves around something much more damaging than one might otherwise see as the root cause in international adoption cases. Typically on the international front there could be a combination of medical, environmental, or health factors that may lead to the death of one or both parents and there are no surviving relatives to take on caring for a child, or if there are surviving relatives they do not have the resources to care for another person in their family…the possibilities are endless as to WHY the child is without family, but the root causes seem to stem less from neglect/abuse and more from environmental factors…all of the circumstances surrounding adoption are bad, and each camp carries with it a unique set of issues. Adoptive families are all equipped in different ways to handle what they choose to bear and that is uniquely personal and nobody’s business but their own.

All that to say, what we have learned about early child development in this process definitely sent some red flags up with regard to domestic adoption in terms of what issues we would no doubt be inviting into our family…and to be completely honest—we didn’t want that…there are people (saints) who do and who God has equipped to offer a loving caring home ready to nurture those challenges into positive change and there are families who know that they are not equipped like that…we’re not equipped like that, our hearts are geared towards something else, not better, not worse, just different.

3. the biggie... so how much does this cost anyway?

yeah, so it’s kind of pricey all right. all agencies are different, but you can expect to pay anywhere from $17,000 to $30,000 for an ET adoption. why the range? well, different agencies have different fees, and depending on what time of year you travel can have a big impact on how much you spend. one of the things that drew us to ET initially was that you only had to travel to addis ababa (the capital) one time. however, about a month after our initial application went in, the embassy changed the requirement from one visit to two, with each visit being between 4-7 days. even though the price point seems high, thanks to the big man in DC (3 cheers for obama for extending the adoption tax credit for 3 more years) the year you bring your child home you qualify for an adoption tax credit of up to $13,000 and some change. for us adding on the $$ it would cost for us to birth another baby thanks to our crazy high deductible, we're not to far off from coming out even if we end up on the lower side of the range.

4. not to get to personal, but how are you paying for this? are there ways to get help?

(H) - thankfully not all the money is due up front. our initial application fee of $250 seemed easy enough, but when the next bill came, we really had to figure some stuff out. after much thought and prayer, we decided to ask b's family for help. in the meantime, we really wanted to move forward but didn't have the means. so b had the great idea to borrow from his 401k in the form of loan-- which for those not in the know is a legitimate option that does not carry the tax consequences as a withdrawl, it is basically a 5 year loan available for up to 50% of your holdings—now i'm sure some of you may think this a bad idea, but for us it was the perfect solution. once that money ran out, b's parents gave us a very generous christmas present which took us through the next few hurdles. and though the majority of that money has been spent, we are pretty sure that we don't have any more big fees until we actually travel which could be as long as 18 months from now. it's been such a huge confirmation from god that we are heading in the right direction, for with each seemingly financial roadblock god has provided us with the means to keep moving forward. we are confident that he will continue to provide as we get closer to traveling.

there are many grants and loans available to prospective adoptive parents. i looked into them briefly and have an extensive list if you are interested. from what i gathered in my brief research is that all of them work differently but ultimately they can each provide you with small increments along the way. in terms of getting one big adoption loan beforehand??? i'm not aware of any such thing, but that doesn't mean its not out there!

4. what agency are you using and how did you choose them?

(H)- our agency is called AAI (adoption advocates international). they are based out of washington state and have programs in ethiopia, china, ghana and thailand as well as washington state. once we decided on the country, we began looking for agencies that had programs in ethiopia. i joined an adopt ethiopia yahoo group and just kind of lurked around for awhile. there are a lot of loud voices on there, but i tried to pay attention to the agencies that got talked about the most in the most favorable light. after a few weeks i had narrowed it down to 3 agencies i wanted to look into further. my next step was to contact the one person locally that i knew that had adopted from ET and ask her what agency she used. fortunately for me, the agency she used was one of my top 3. after hearing about her experience and what amazing things she had to say about AAI, it was a no brainer.

a bit about AAI... they are a small agency. they typically only work with two orphanages in ET. the directors are easy to talk to, and very accessible. everyone in the office i've spoken with has been incredibly friendly and helpful. the general feeling i get from those who have gone through the process with them is very positive (once i became in process with AAI, i got on their specific yahoo group. the support and information i've received from it has been invaluable). even though we are not adopting an HIV+ baby, one thing i will say is that AAI is kind of the front runner in getting these kids adopted. last year they placed more HIV+ kids than any other agency.... pretty awesome to say the least.

5. how many times will you have to go to ethiopia?

twice.

6. what age and gender are you requesting?

(H)- while some people find it strange that you can request what gender you want, for us it was a non-issue. we have 3 kids, 2 of them are girls, one is a boy. it seemed like the natural choice to add another boy to the family. if i didn't have any children, there is good chance i would just be open to whatever came up, but for us, since we were given a choice we felt like giving the kids a brother would be the best fit for us. (side note, if we were to leave our decision gender neutral, chances are very high we would receive a boy anyhow. there tends to be a greater demand for infant girls).

as i've mentioned before, b and i are not huge newborn people. we like a good 12 months under their belt, so again, if given the option, why not do what seems like would work best for us. so to sum it up, we are anxiously awaiting a referral for a 12-18 month old baby boy!

7. what does the general process look like and how long will it be before you bring your son home?

(H) - well, once you decide international or domestic and then you pick an agency, you basically contact that agency and ask for an initial application. after the application and some dollar bills you have begun! all agencies are different, but for us after our application was done we got loads more paperwork asking you everything you could think of. then we began our homestudy. since our agency is in washington state, we needed to have an approved agency in our state of california. the one we chose was called across the world adoptions. they are located in pleasanton. they sub-contract social workers in our area to come and conduct the homestudy. our homestudy was incredibly easy. we met 3 times with our social worker who was very kind and helpful. she then prepared a report-- 12 pages about EVERYTHING you could ever want to know about me and b and the kids. after this was completed, we began even more paperwork to compile our dossier. a dossier is basically a huge packet of notarized papers (including your homestudy, bank statements, more letters of reference, and other various random information) that gets completed stateside and then translated and presented to ET. once you are DTE (dossier to ethiopia) status you are officially queuing for your child. again, all agencies are different, but we will likely wait about a year or so before we will receive our referral. your referral is basically a picture of your child with some basic background information. you can accept or reject (but who's really going to reject right?!) and then you began arranging your travel plans. the first time you go to ET you keep your fingers crossed that you pass court, if so, you come back home and wait for another date (2-6 weeks) where you will ultimately travel to ET to bring your child home.

as for us, we finished our dossier up in january. however, 2 days before we mailed the completed dossier to our agency, the ET embassy decided an additional form needed to be included. this form is a government form that we had begun, but hadn't yet received. sooo, we are delayed until we receive this last form, which should be any day now! once we get that form, we send it up to our agency to add to our completed dossier, which gets translated and then sent on over.

8. shouldn't they make it easier to get these kids a home? why is it so much work and so expensive?

(H) no, they shouldn't make it easier. though the process can be overwhelming and slow and seemingly unnecessarily bureaucratic, there are good reasons for it. first of all, it’s to weed out anyone who's intention is for evil. i know it sounds crazy, but there are some crazy mofo's out there who will stop at nothing. this process is intensely personal and invasive, but so necessary. another reason is that child trafficking is a huge problem right now. you've all seen the dateline specials and heard of the scams... they are very real. always be wary of agencies that make fast and easy promises, there is a reason the process can be long and frustrating-- typically its because they are doing everything right. just a couple weeks ago a stateside 'christian' adoption agency was shut down. it is important for all involved in the process to maintain a high level of ethics and integrity. so when i began to feel frustrated about additional forms or paperwork or delays, i try to recognize how necessary this is for everyone... especially the kids.

(B) If you can’t handle the pain in arse that is compiling your dossier then you have no business adopting, plain and simple…in fact that is very likely going to be the easy part. The reality of a child born in less than optimal circumstances is something most of us cannot fathom…it has a profound effect on EVERYTHING about that child and the six to eight months spent doing paperwork will pale in comparison to the ongoing night and day effort that will be required of you to create healthy and lasting attachment with your child.

friday night musings...

2011-02-15T10:53:00.000-08:00

there are times when it feels like so much work.

most days really.

i was reminded of how not much work it is on recent trip to disneyland. it was reminiscent of a long weekend we had in san diego before tali was born. its that point when your older kid(s) -- i'd say 3.5 and older- when they can use the bathroom by them self, or when they can feed them self without covering their hair in yogurt and peanut butter or when they can play and entertain them self for longer than 10 mins. or better yet when they are totally capable of watching tv for 4 hours straight (not that this ever happens at my house).
its when you finally, finally get a break. you know they aren't gonna wake up in the night, and you actually kind of know what to expect each day. it's a great time in child rearing.
then you have another one and you're like, i can do this, i've done it before right?! but its that second or third or fourth that's the game changer.

tali is my game changer.

and though most days i long for the hours of solitude my 4 and 5.5 yr old would bring, there are more times when i'm reminded why i couldn't live without her. like when i see her running cars with oz, or when i see her crazy hair pop out of the crib each morning-- it's moments like that i know that every lost minute to myself is worth it. she's worth it.
when dr. bravo asked me last week at her well baby check up if i had any questions or concerns, i looked at tali with dopey eyes and asked, 'yeah, actually i do. is there anyway i could clone her?' he laughed politely, but the reality is there has never been a second when i've regretted her. through all the work and lost reading, tv, blogging, and napping, she's been worth it.
cuz even when the days seem so long, there are nights that seem so right. when i see lily pushing tali in the doll stroller, or when tali and oz wrestle all crazy, or when i see all three of my kids dance and sing their hearts out to jb's baby, or when my son out of nowhere as i put his jammies on says, 'jesus, please help my boo boo not hurt when i get in the bath'- its those times when i feel like i could be like my aunt merilyn and have 13 kids.
it's nights like tonight that i can, and can't wait for my baby boy. i can wait to capitalize on those free moments of reading and resting and just being, but even more i can't wait to breathe in the sweet smell of morning on him, or see his smile as he gets pushed in a swing for the first time.

kids change you forever, for good. as my dad told me yesterday, the 30's are the best. your at the top of your game. you've got your career (brandon), you've got young kids who adore you, and you've got a super hot wife (okay, so maybe i improv for brandon) but in any event, tonight my heart is filled with joy and excitement. in the words of a dear friend,... the best is yet to come.

general maintenance

2011-02-07T11:38:00.000-08:00

i just wanted to take a second to run a few things by you guys.

first, i've been realizing how few pictures and videos i've been putting on the blog lately. part of that is because ever since our camera fell in the toilet when lily was taking a picture of ozzy's poop, it just hasn't been the same. the pictures it takes are blurry and generally crap. and any other pictures i take are on my phone which are also kinda crap too because there is no flash. the combination of the above, and just the basic logistics of having a camera with you when you have 3 kids have all made for me sucking at capturing my life. so with that said, it is my goal to get more pictures on this blog! this is my life journal these days, and frankly i too get tired of just my words.

which leads me to my second point.... i know a lot of bloggers who don't allow anonymous comments. mostly due to people hiding behind anonymity to be mean. thankfully i've had very little of that in my blog. in fact i kind of like the drama of anonymous comments... everyone trying to figure out who they are and so on. but as they have been coming more frequently, i would just ask that if you feel like you want to be mean, please send me your frustrations privately. let me reiterate -- i haven't been offended by any of the recent anonymous comments, but i just get a little worried that it might be heading that way the more 'controversial' i get. and lord knows i don't want to have to tone anything down for fear i might offend someone! that's what blogs are for right?!

lastly, it's been really cool for me to be able to share our heart for adoption with all of you. the response has been tremendous. it's been especially neat to get personal emails or messages from you wanting to know more. in the midst of all my rants and raves and general rumblings in my head, it has occurred to me that i haven't really taken the time to address some of the more basic questions about adoption. people have sent me emails asking me lots of different things, and as you can imagine it can be sort of time consuming to answer all the questions, so on b's suggestion i want to have a special FAQ adoption post.

so, here's where you come in. if you have a question or two about adoption you would like to have the answer to, i'd love to be able to use a blog post to share our answer/experience. some of the more common questions i plan to address are,

'what agency are you using and why?'

'why are you adopting internationally and not domestically?'

'how many times will you have to go to ethiopia?'

'what age/gender are you adopting and why?'

those are just some off the top of my head. if you have any others, i'd love to be able to answer them. so feel free to post a comment, or send me an email with a question and i'll try and get these answers up in the next week or so.

in the meantime i'll leave you with some pictures of my babies.

mud pies

2011-01-26T11:04:00.000-08:00

there's this quote i read by C.S. Lewis a long time ago. every time i see it written i'm amazed how it still impacts me the way it did the first time i read it. it goes like this:

"We are half-hearted creatures, fooling about with drink and sex and ambition when infinite joy is offered us, like an ignorant child who wants to go on making mud pies in a slum because he cannot imagine what is meant by the offer of a holiday at the sea. We are far too easily pleased.”

i've been super privileged to have some pretty incredible 'God' conversations these past few months.

one particular evening, my friend asked me if i ever had any doubts. i was surprised at how quickly and with what confidence i said no. we went on to discuss more about what it meant to believe in jesus as the only lord and savior. later that night though, as i was recounting the conversation i remembered how difficult it was for me to accept christianity as the only truth.

growing up, and in high school in particular, i knew of quite a few christians, and i was happy to leave it at that. i had zero interest in what they believed and definitely was not interested in ascribing to their seemingly boring way of life. sure they were nice people, but not something i would ever pursue.

i was different (or so i wanted to believe). i wanted to explore buddhism, and deepak chopra, and a course in miraceles and whatever hot new book oprah decided would change my life. these were the things that would challenge me intellecutaly and light a fire in my soul. i would be enlightened and therefore changed. but as my second year of college came to a close i realized that nothing had changed. i still struggled with the same insecurities as always, and wrestled with the same fears that had plagued me for years. i couldn't help but think there must be more to life than what i was experiencing.

that summer i got a job at uptown espresso. it was there i met lealah. as the summer went on, i spent more and more time with her. we had a lot in common, tattoos, ciggerettes, indie bands, jesus-- clearly we had nothing in common (we still always joke at what an odd couple we are), but somewhow a friendship was forged and it was simply just seeing her life in contrast to mine that made me want to know more about jesus. it wasn't one conversation, or her pressuring me, it was simply me seeing that she just may have that something i had been looking for. turns out i was right.

as i threw myself headfirst into christianity, i still had my doubts. it was hard for me to shake those preconvieced notions. i read apologetic books like the case for christ, to help me with the intellectual part of it, and read the bible to get the heart part of it. it wasn't long before i too was sold out for jesus. in the cheesiest way possible:)

it was easy to fall in love with jesus back then. time was on my side. since i quit partying and sleeping with my boyfriend, i found i had a lot more free time on my hands. i would spend hours at linnea's reading my bible and just marveling at the word of god. how could i have ever thought this was boring or irrelevant? it felt like every single word on those pages was searing my heart in a way i had never known. i went to bible studies, church events, campus crusade -- you name it, i was there. i really couldn't get enough of god.

fast forward a few years and a baby is born. my daily time with god is drastically cut short. a year and half later another baby is born and i start writing blogs titled, god who? clearly my focus had shifted. i'm suddenly caught up in the world of homemeade baby foods, best teething medicine and what stroller to buy.
when i do actually have those precious few moments all by myself, catching a few winks, or reading a magazine sounds way more appealing than breaking out the good book. with this decrease in god time, comes a decline in a god mindset. i find myself looking forward to vacations, new cars, home improvement projects, new clothes. none of these are bad things, but i start to realize the more focus they have in my life, the less satisfied i am. nothing really feels like enough. i have become far to easily pleased.

these days, i still don't struggle with doubt- in the sense whether or not what what i believe is true, i struggle more with how to live out the best life god has for me. like the good father he is, i know god is still there... i'm reminded every sunday when my heart melts in worship and the tears begin to flow. i'm reminded then and there that true happiness and joy doesn't come in the temporal form, it can only be found in the eternal. i know my walk with christ will continue to change, and i'm hopeful that the best years are yet to come.

in process part 3

2011-01-19T09:44:00.000-08:00

i've been in a crazy space trying to get our dossier ready to be sent to ethiopia. for those of you that don't know what a dossier is, its a big packet of paperwork with stuff like referral letters, medical statements, bank statements, immigration forms, and police clearances. none of this would be hard to compile since we've done most of it already when we did our homestudy, but this packet is crazy difficult cuz everything needs to be notarized. big thanks to jessica miller and marc amesse our good friends, that are also notaries that have saved us mucho dinero by helping us out. in fact there have been so many people along way that have helped us... our close friends, b's parents who have in a big part made this next step financially possible, the staff (sherry) in particular at dr. bravo's office, as well as dr. b himself. the list goes on, but its crazy to think how supported we've felt. it far outweighs the douchey sherriff who told me he couldn't help us with our police clearances and that i should really re-think this whole 'adoption' cuz its likely a scam, especially since its from africa. i've had some downs, but also some big ups. getting this paperwork and actually doing it right has been strangely empowering for me, and of course also very exciting cuz after our dossier is sent to ethiopia (DTE) we are officially 'queuing'-- as in waiting for our baby boy. but as i was going through my adoption journal this morning, i found this entry from august. it was an interesting time to say the least....

8/30/10

we got our homestudy packet the other day. it's kind of massive, but we've been making our way through it. been feeling a little overwhelmed looking at all the 'stuff' we have to do. i know its so worth it, but can feel doubtful when i feel like i don't have enough time. thankfully, we aren't in a great hurry.

yesterday was hard for some reason... prolly cuz the night before i saw on intervention a story about an adopted boy who was crazy addicted to heroin. i love the show, but it's so hard to watch. thinking about any of my babies (bio or not) being where these kids on the show are at just breaks my heart.

its silly, but i can't help but having those 'what-if?' thoughts. i do it with my bio kids sure, but there seems to be another level of responsibility or something with adoption. like we have to be perfect, never complain about our kids, or never make mistakes to be worthy of being adopted parents. i know its not true, but its hard not to let those thoughts sneak in.
been super blessed by my yahoo group lately... these words in particular:

'...and the times when he's said he wishes he were in heaven with his Ethiopian mom. You know you truly love your child when you genuinely wish he could have remained with the family he so dearly misses, regardless of the advantages to him, and to you, of his new life in America. It's that stuff we've been talking about recently in this forum, the realization that adoption has its roots in tragedy and loss, not rainbows and butterflies.'

that one line in particular-- the realization that adoption has its roots in tragedy and loss, not rainbows and butterflies. i think its easy to have these preconceived notions about adoption-- like we're doing them a favor. but the reality is adoption is not a perfect or right solution. this mom nailed it as well....

'again, said before, but it irks me when people tell me how lucky my kids are to have found their way to my family, which I know is meant only as compliment. Usually I just say "we're the lucky ones, they are a great blessing" but once in a while I point out to them-- "Would you feel your 3 and 5 yr old children were really lucky if you-- and your husband-- died and you had no relatives to care for them and they had to go live on another continent with a bunch of black people and learn a new language, even if these were wonderful people and had enough money?" (these are white people I'm talking to, as I am) Then they sort of get it, that my kids are not lucky. This is not what any parent wants for their children.'

and that's the cold, hard truth. we live in a fallen world, a place where some countries have everything at their fingertips, and others where mom's can't even feed their babies, or their bodies are so filled with AIDS that they are literally on their death bed and not able to care for their children. i know its not fun to think about this, but i honestly think its necessary for me to get through this process.

i feel like the journey thus far has been such a whirlwind of thoughts, emotions, feelings and up's and downs--- and i'm barely in. feeling the pull to understand the harder, darker side of all this... i think i've been in a bit of a unicorn fairy land myself thus far. its not easy for me to access these feelings... i know i have so much more, and its a constant reminder of how much the journey becomes the destination itself.

praying for my baby boy today... he's likely just a newborn.

parent-hole

2011-01-12T10:38:00.000-08:00

i've been thinking a lot about parenting lately.

not that this is a new thing... after all, i am a stay at home mom, thus leaving me with the kids all day, every long day. i guess i'm just realizing that the deal with parenting is that every day you are learning, and trying and failing...

for most of us our ideas or strategies about how we 'raise' our children come from three primary places. first and foremost, our own upbringing. as much as we like to think we aren't going to be like our parents, the reality is-- we are. and the older we get, the more and more we become just like them. our second major influence is our friends. the people that we choose to raise our kids with has a huge impact on how we parent. these are the women and men that we spend most of our time with. our kids learn, and teach good and bad behaviors to their kids and we learn from each other how to handle it. the third major influence for some of us is our faith. we look to our churches and synagogues and mosques (i know, i'm so pc) and try to glean on what our elders deem as valuable in raising children. this can come through small groups, mentoring, books, etc.

i guess i just thought my kids would all come out just like me. in my mind that seems like it would be easiest thing ever (though i've heard this is not always the case). but since my kids seem to be nothing like me, i just feel like it would be awesome. thankfully for me, i grew up with an amazing mom. anyone who knows me knows just how close and how influential my mom is on me. she is my best friend and helps me daily navigate this maze called parenthood. she has always tended to be on the touchy feely side of parenting. she's big on talking through disobedience, never one for spanking (yeah i said it) or even time-outs. in her world, every behavior or mis-behavior is just the result of an un-met need. if the said need can be met, than all is solved. my kids respond very well to her in all areas. they rarely act out with her and if they do, it's quickly solved. however, the rest of the world doesn't share these same tactics. so when they are around other adults, family or not, and they get repremended, they do not respond well.

at home, we tend to be much more strict than my mom. we have little tolerance for disobedience. i've heard it said that if your firstborn turns out okay, the rest of your children will be good. if that's the case, we are in deep doodoo. for real. she's only five, but i'm just sayin, it's really like she's 13 year old twin girls jammed into one teensy tiny pair of booty shorts. she is firery. in a good way yes, but also in the not so good way. from the get go, i've felt like we've had to ride her pretty hard, and the older she gets, the more i'm wondering if we're on the right track.

i've read all the books (not really, but at least a few pages of most). pre-kids we read some super gnarly fundamentalist crap about ZERO tolerance for anything. thankfully we sobered up enough once the babies were born not to follow it. but i did read me some babywise (pretty hard core). then lightened up into some dr. leman, and then a little magic, and even messed around with this guy. all of them seemed great while i read them, but none of them ever stuck or made the impact i was hoping for.

and then one day we decided we were going to adopt. part of our adoptive parent requirements were to complete 10 hours of 'education.' i figured we were going to learn about some basic aspects of adopting, some cultural stuff and maybe some parenting advice. however, what we got was a pretty awesome introductory course in early childhood development. both b and i were blown away by ~~all we were doing wrong~~ all this great information. interestingly enough these women that that were teaching these seminars tend to be on the uber touchy feely side of parenting. a lot of it was specific to adopted kids, but the science behind why they parent the way they do is pretty solid.

through all of this, i'm finding i feel really torn by where the line is drawn between trying to understand and reason with my kids and just plain enabling them. i feel like with my oldest when i compromise or give in, i'm just turning her into a brat. or by not disciplining oz for yelling or hitting, i'm teaching him that its okay. i'm conflicted cuz on the one hand, the new method of parenting would handle it by trying to ask why and what happened, whereas another one would be immediate time out or spanking. its so hard to navigate these decisions so quickly in the day to day. i've learned the best way to parent is consistency. but what happens when you aren't sure what kind of parenting you are doing?

i guess the one thing i know for sure and have learned, is that you need to choose your battles. i've had friends and family think we're crazy for letting lily change her clothes so much or throw the house in an uproar over a certain outfit or pair of shoes. but in the same breath i've passed that same judgement on friends that allow their kids to play hours of video games. but i know that for our house, clothes are a deal breaker. if we can't get wardrobe under control, the rest of the day is a challenge.

i know this is a passionate subject for a lot of people. i also know that some things work for some kids and others don't. with parenting there is no straight and narrow path. there are many digressions. i guess the hardest thing about it is that we are all trying so hard. we all want so badly to raise happy healthy confident wonderful kids. and just when you think maybe you just might be doing something right, your 5 year old has a massive fit about not being able to find/wear high heels, or your almost 4 year old tries to hit the nurse as she gives him the flu mist (not the shot, the mist).

but then just when you think all is lost, you overhear your daughter in the sweetest, most tender voice talking your son through why it will be okay and not to scary to get kindergarten shots one day, or you look over and see your 4 year old son wrestling with your baby and her just cracking up at how fun he is. its moments like those that you think that maybe all those prayers just might have been heard.

so as we continue along the journey for our new son, i'm trying my best not to get so wrapped up in the right and wrong way to parent. i'm trying to really seek God and trust that he will help us navigate it all. today, more than anything i'm just so thankful for all the support we have. from all our amazing friends and even amazinger family. i'm thankful that i have a husband who's in it to win it, and a God who loves my kids even more than i do. cuz these days, it truly does take a village.

oliver

2010-12-30T15:20:00.000-08:00

my son turns 4 on sunday.

because his birthday falls a mere week after christmas, the pomp and circumstance surrounding it always seems to get downplayed. thankfully, my son is the type of kid who could really care less.

so when i was trying to figure out what i should blog about this week, i was shocked i hadn't already started a birthday blog for oz. cuz in case you didn't notice, this year part of my blogging resolution was to write birthday blogs for the people closest to me. again on one hand i felt bad that i hadn't thought to write one for oz, but on the other hand i think in some ways i was fearful that i wouldn't have much to say.

if i could sum up my son in one word, besides adorable, handsome, smart, funny, sensitive and a wee bit eccentric, it would be easy. oz is easy. now don't get me wrong, he has his moments-- most of which are in public or around family friends, but at home oz is pretty darn near perfect. while lily demands most of our attention with her daily shenanigans, oz tends to lay low on the radar. no issues with clothes, or pooping or attitude-- he has the occasional food challenges, but for the most part he's busy tooling around playing with his toys.

ever since lily started kindergarten, oz and i have fallen into a really neat routine. after we drop off lily, we come home, put tali down and then it's just me and him for a solid two hours. first he'll want to watch mighty machines or cars for an hour and then before i know it he'll be off the couch running his cars or playing trains quietly. he is so easily entertained and has a crazy long attention span. his little mind is so different than mine. his infatuation with moving machinery amazes me. but at the same time he's satisfied taking cooking equipment out of the drawer and making machines out of them. i'm always amazed at how a can opener suddenly becomes a helicopter rescuing a chip clip.

having a firstborn that requires so much emotional energy can be exhausting. being with lily makes me appreciate the simplicity that comes with oz. he's always down to cuddle me, and almost never talks back. he's pretty intuitive for an almost four year old-- if he feels like i'm upset he'll say 'mom' and i'll look over at him just giving me just the biggest smile. he's just checkin in, giving me exactly what i need at that moment. his sensitivity floors me. i always joke that even though it can't be easy being in between two girls, someday he'll be thankful for what a good husband it made him.

i guess when i was worried i wouldn't have much to say, it's because i can sometimes equate less words with less love. but the reality is, most days i would take five boys if they were all like him. i can only hope and pray that our simple, constant, loving ride continues. my heart overflows for that boy, and i'm so thankful for the unique love we have.

even though you hate pictures, still won't utter a word to lily's kindergarten teacher, claim the elevators were your favorite part of our last vacation, eat a bagel with cream cheese for dinner most nights and exhaustingly need to know how everything works, i still marvel at how much i learn from you. your patience with lily is humbling and your tenderness toward tali makes me swoon. i love how comfortable you are in your own skin.

and so oz, even though you tell me every day you don't want to grow up, in a couple days you'll be four. but just so you know, even when your 44, you will still always, always be my baby boy. i love you oliver and i can't thank you enough for being the unwavering radiance in my world.

happy

2010-12-08T09:34:00.000-08:00

last friday night we loaded up lil and oz and headed downtown to the SLO christmas parade. we found our seats on the curb and cuddled up as the floats began. it was a parade like any other until this one float came up. i don't even know what it was for, maybe boy scouts or something. all i know is that there were lots of little 6-9 year old boys on bike's. it was un-remarkable until, peddling up, came a boy on one of those recumbent bikes. he was riding right along the edge getting high fives from all the kids sitting on the curb. he was pretty stoked cruising through town high fivin' it up. i smiled as i watched and as he rode by i looked up and a few feet behind him was his mom who had this look of sheer joy on her face. if you could bundle up a heart bursting with pride and joy and satisfaction, it was being displayed on her face. this would have been something i probably wouldn't even have noticed if i hadn't first recognized the boy. i've seen him around parks, the elks, the kids museum- all the places i often frequent. i don't know what his physical disability is, but something about his legs is severely compromised. just to walk looks like a struggle. so for him to be able to ride a bike just might be a small miracle. the irony is that every time i see this boy like i did that night, he is always smiling and running and laughing- even if it is a struggle.

but tonight was different. tonight he was like every other boy he was riding around with. tonight his mom saw him with his friends and amongst the people and no one was staring, or laughing or wondering what was wrong with him. tonight he was 'normal.' i've heard it said that when you have a child with disabilities whether it be mental or physical, it will always be harder for the parent then the child. as parents we have this crazy overwhelming desire to see our kids thriving, succeeding, healthy and most of all, happy.

that night i also was sitting with a few couples who had just had their first child. they were taking pictures, and smiling, attentive to every need or want their baby had. it made me remember those days. i guess in a way i'm still in them with tali, but there is nothing like your firstborn. with the first, you see everything. you watch, you study, you just marvel. i don't think any of us had the foresight to know how crazy in love we would be.

reading this the other day helped me put it all into words, 'their hearts were wrung with anguish, the anguish of having children, a vulnerability as astonishing as the capacity for love that parenthood brings, in a cuff link set all it's own...'

i never knew how vulnerable having children would make me. i also never knew how my desire for them to be happy would supersede everything. what i've been realizing is that when i think about my kids being happy, i have these preconceived notions about what it should look like. naturally the first thing would be good health, that they would also be smart, attractive, find a career, love and one day a family. ideally they would experience as little hurt and pain and injustice as possible.
but when i stop and think about my own life and think about what has brought me the most joy and happiness, the one thing that has shaped my life more than my parents or life experiences, i recognize it wasn't any sort of choice i made or path i took. it was the day i realized i was made for so much more. the day that i took that leap of faith setting in motion a chain of events that singlehandedly gave me EVERYTHING i treasure and hold dear to today. it was the day i came to know jesus.

i see him when i look into my babies eyes. i experience his mercy when i feel the touch of my husband. and when i take the time to see the face looking back at me in the mirror i am reminded that its truly by grace alone that i have been granted the greatest joy and peace and happiness i could ever want. how could i not want that same thing for my children?

so god please forgive me for seeking temporal worldly things for my kids. forgive me for esteeming my ideas of happiness over your salvation. remind me that when i lay my head down to pray at night that i would merely pray for you to grant them the grace that you have, and continue to afford me.

selah.

in process part 2

2010-12-01T10:14:00.000-08:00

i was looking back at my writings from the last few months. it's crazy to think how much has changed even since i wrote this. for me, this journey has had such a steep learning curve. it seems like everyday i'm presented with a different situation or comment or appointment. i wrote this after a weekend up at brandon's parents house.

July 17, 2010

we went up to b's parents house this last weekend. it was good to get away and have the time to spend with them. we went up with the intention of telling them that we were officially in the adoption process. i was anxious about bringing it up, even though they know its something we've talked about, i just wasn't sure how they would react to it actually happening. when the time finally came, thankfully, they were exceedingly happy and supportive. yet the day before was what really proved to be the most difficult.

we were hanging out at b's parents neighbor/friends house. they have a pool and offered us to come and use it. they weren't home, but their daughter was visiting. she was in her early 40's and as b and her got caught up a bit she of course asked if we were going to have more children. after explaining that we were done birthing children, b told her we were going to adopt. she was really surprised. she went on to ask where and when, and as we told her she kind of began to withdraw. after a few minutes she motioned to lily, oz and t playing and said, 'i don't know why you would want to mess with what you've got?'
i'll admit i was totally taken back. i ended up just kind of shirking it off, and expressing that its something we've always wanted to do.

later, i found myself really upset. i kept recounting the conversation and thinking what i should have said. looking back i wanted to say, 'oh i'm sorry, i didn't realize my family was wrapped up in a little leave it to beaver aryan bow.' or maybe something like 'are you kidding me, you don't even know my kids. they are totally crazy. my daughter has at least one huge meltdown a day about clothes, my son won't eat anything but cheerios and rations out smiles, and the verdict isn't even in on tali. the thing is, the moment all three of my kids were conceived we were already messing with what we got.'

the truth is, you have no idea what you are going to get, biological children or adopted.

it's not like we haven't thought about what it will mean to bring in another child from another country. we are becoming increasingly aware that adoption is not all unicorns and fairy tales. i know its going to be hard, and i know he could have some serious issues, but that's the risk you take... and for us, its totally worth it. and today that's all that matters.

later i emailed all that to lealah and this was what she came back with...brilliant.

email from lea--

'So good to get your email. I felt like you were right here for a minute. I miss you when you're gone, like my little life source is clouded over. I understand what you're saying about the adoption stuff. Its funny how people relate their fears to you as fact. I'm so sorry you had to take that in. Its meant to discourage for sure and what pains me is knowing that people only do it because of their own fears about life. We're realists hollsy and people who just meet you aren't going to see that right away. They wanna make judgements about your life, your family. They don't wanna think that its quite possible you've already weighed the pros and cons of this decision. People want to say something revalatory not to shed light but rather seem righteous and all knowing. The reality is you've already thought about the good bad and ugly of adoption. What more is I think you and I both have come to realize that having children really has nothing to do with us and our happiness, that really, truly its all about them. Adoption is sacrifice and people can't understand why you'd ever wanna sacrifice for someone else that's not your flesh and blood. Why you'd ever compromise your happiness, that you'd temp fate per se. The fact is, god does this with us each and every day. He adopted us in, he chooses to love us, he sacrificed everything for us, for what: for the heartache and pain we bring him every day...doubting his love for us, living in fear, feeling anxious about life, so on and so forth. God knows he chose us, not for what we could bring to him but what he could bring to us. Its really quite beautiful and humbling. So yes, people do people things. What's precious is we have each other. You're my sister through the simple fact that god adopted us both into the same family. Why wouldn't we want to replicate that?!'

leave it lealah to lay it all out. all my frustrations and feelings about the situation couldn't have been put into words more clearly. i love that sometimes we really have the same mind.

since then i have experienced several more situations like the above. i know i have many more to come. but in the meantime i really feel like god has given me grace for comments such as those. i know firsthand what's its like to say something without thinking, i do it almost every day.

when it comes to adoption, every person has their own opinion or experience. its not like there's this pat formula that everybody follows. there is much trial and error and different personalities and pasts. my intention in writing this wasn't to slam this woman or all the people out there that may have made stupid comments, it was more of time to get across our heart and mind behind adoption. i know we will be faced with many more situations and challenges, i guess all we can do is pray. pray that god gives us not what we want, but what we need. its times like these that i find such great comfort knowing that god knew, that the day our son was born that we would be his forever home. and that ultimately gives me more peace than anyone or anything this world could offer.

goodbye girls

2010-11-17T10:13:00.000-08:00

i was quite a bit older than my friends when you finally made your entrance. i had been waiting, and waiting.

and

waiting.

like all middle school girls, i quickly realized popularity came from one tangible place.

the ta-ta's.

then one day you broke through like a seed bursting into a beautiful sunflower. well maybe not so much a sunflower as a miniature rose. in any event i kept waiting for you to make that significant spurt, but much like samantha baker on her 16th birthday, i realized this was going to be one area god would not be generous with me with.

i won't lie and say it wasn't painful. getting messages written on calculators reading 55378008 (yes upside on a calculator its spells boobless- this was our version of texting) or overhearing, 'she's cute, but she's totally flat.'

flat...

the dreaded word of a high school girl.

and then one day i grew up, and realized guys aren't only interested in boobs. (actually they are. in fact its ALL they are interested in, but if you are a young reader, i at least did my due diligence).

i got married, got pregnant (yes in that order) and one day i woke up, looked down and thought, 'so this is what all the fuss was about!'

yes, you were huge, beautiful, ginormous, buoyant and....

milky.

that's right.

leaking. milk. already.

and there wasn't even a baby.

though this was just the beginning of looks can be deceiving, it sure was enough to make any girl wonder what it would be like...

once the baby came, you began to change even more! it was miraculous. truly. i came home from the hospital and within three days, i seriously was rivaling pam (minus the blond hair and botox). when b caught sight of you, he practically passed out, but as he went in for a feel, he realized once again... you were not made for him. hard as rocks and once again... the dreaded leak.

but then you regulated yourself, and we settled into a nice, confident size. more than proportionate- generous even, and really just lovely. hearing words like 'rack' instead of 'flat' or 'bijoingas' instead of 'flapjacks' was like music to my ears. you truly were a sight.

and so as our journey comes to a close, i just want to say--we had a good run thelma and louise, you ebbed and flowed so beautifully these last five years of pregnancy and nursing. you fed my babies and loved my husband in a way he never thought he'd know. you gave me a glimpse into a life i never thought i'd know...

and so now my little jahoobies, its time to say good bye. as tali takes her final sips, we bid you farewell. we've had an amazing run. and though my badoinkies will once again deflate, i'll remember these years as the best of my life.

au revoir, girls... au revoir.

orphan sunday

2010-11-05T15:28:00.000-07:00

sometimes i'm convinced that b and i became missionaries just by watching a video.

even though one would hope this isn't entirely true, there is no doubt that there is great power in those little 5-8 minute videos set to music. the images, the words, the music, all have an almost intoxicating effect on me. and though i would never wish that anyone would make an emotional decision based on a movie, i do want to acknowledge their power.

the reason i'm posting this video isn't to make you feel guilty or weepy, its to make you aware. aware that the statistics are staggering. aware that there is a real, concrete need, and i feel, responsibility. a responsibility for people everywhere to know what is going on outside our white picket fences.

this next sunday is orphan sunday. as anna reminded me yesterday in her blog 'children don't get to choose the life they are born into.' i know adoption isn't for everyone, there are times when i doubt whether or not its for me. but i do know this-- at the risk of sounding cheesy i will say that god LOVES these children. like really loves them. and there is no reason why each pair of piercing brown eyes you see in this video should not have a mom or dad that loves, cherishes, provides for and adores them.

this video was made by a local couple here in SLO who brought their baby boy home two years ago. they made it for the agency we are using for our adoption and much of the footage is shot where our son will come from.

its all kinds of AMAZING. but i'm just warning you, it brings the tears in a big way. tears of joy mostly, tears of pain, but for me, mostly tears of anticipation. i cannot wait to hold him.

in any event, brace yourself. its beautiful.

AAI Ethiopia from Holly Rodgers on Vimeo.

'one adoption won't change the world, but it will change the world for one child.'

-AAI mission statement

on a balcony in summer air

2010-10-26T06:37:00.000-07:00

the first time i laid eyes on him i was skateboarding to a party with my boyfriend. i didn't think much about it when we were introduced later in the night. in the days that followed i put two and two together that they worked together as i went to meet my boyfriend after he got off work. we exchanged hello's and off we went.

it wasn't till he started coming round for lunch that things changed.

he claims i made excuses to bus the outside tables while he ate. i claim that it was my job, and i'm no slacker.
but the truth was, something clicked. something physical at least. who can resist a boy with white blond hair and eyes the color of the bluest sky? he quickly became known as CCS 2, simply because i was dating CCS 1.

CCS (central coast surfboards) 1 and i were going nowhere very slowly. he was not interested in being 'tied down' to anything serious and i was rebounding from a failed three year high school boyfriend. so when CCS 2 invited me to go on a hike, i hesitated for merely a second.

strangely, i remember quite a bit about that trek up bishops. i remember that he told me he loved surfing and mountain biking and that he had an interesting, and sometimes strained relationship with his mom. he remembers i took my shirt off and hiked in my sports bra (strangely he can't remember anything we talked about).

i also remember that night i came home and he had left three messages for me. all of them cute and disheveled. i remember feeling like samantha baker as she waited for jake ryan to call.

of course i'll never forget the first time he took me to his house. i was shocked. never had i seen a house, let alone a college boy's house, so strikingly clean. counters wiped, bed made with hospital corners, and all of his shirts folded like the GAP does.

we got real serious, real fast.

i quickly found out that as much as brandon loved surfing and girls, he loved smoking weed. it took me longer than it should have to realize that it would someday be our demise. but in the meantime i held fast to 'if you can't win em, join em.' let's just say i really sucked at being a stoner.

our first year was filled with sweet notes under my doorstep and on my windshield. flowers for no reason at all, and long drives holding hands as we listened to music that moved us. there was no doubt i had fallen head over heels for a tow headed boy from santa cruz.

i remember the first time i realized i was falling in love. he took me home to meet his parents. his only warning was, 'my dad is a cop, my mom hated my last girlfriend and my brother is developmentally disabled.' i was prepared for a long, challenging weekend. but instead, as he navigated his way through the mountain roads to his childhood home, i started to see a side of b i hadn't yet. the brandon i saw that weekend was the brandon i knew that i would marry. sure it helped he was stone cold sober, but to see his respect and admiration for his parents made me realize that he would someday love his own family that much.

the next year was scattered with some really fun times. but as the year came to a close, the down's began to far outweigh the ups, and both of us knew that something had to give.

i was living downtown with a bunch of girls from high school at the time. my best friend was gone for the summer and i started working at uptown espresso. b would spend the night at my place, while i would wake up at the crack, and open the shop. b would roll out of bed, smoke a bowl and skateboard down to uptown for a coffee. my once sweet and romantic boyfriend was becoming increasingly annoying. i couldn't compete with the smoking. meanwhile, i began to spend more time with my new friend lealah and her boyfriend (now husband) jon. i saw something in their life that i desperately wanted. it wasn't just the stability, it was the peace. no changes i tried to implement in my own life or b's for that matter would last. i began to feel a pull towards something bigger and greater. so one sunday, i drove over to b's house as he was getting ready to take a load to the dump. we joke now that i dumped him at the dump. even though at the time it was one of the hardest decisions i ever had to make, it ultimately proved to be one of the best.

b and i took about six months apart to really work on ourselves. b got rid of his bong, threw his pipe out the window and finally ditched my biggest competition.

it was a hard six months, but so necessary. b found a faith that he knew fleetingly as a kid, but now in his early 20's was finally able to find his identity in. i found what i had been looking for my entire life-- a faith in something way bigger than myself or my boyfriend. our journey's were separate, but real. we went from drinking, smoking, and having sex to nothing. there were months when we didn't even hug, cuz it was just that hard. we started hanging round more with the "christian's" as we sought to redefine our idea of fun. slowly but surely, god poured his grace upon us until one day we found ourselves at a private table at the gardens of avila.

and then before i knew it, you got down on your knees, carefully removed the shoes i had colored with a sharpie on the way to dinner, and began to wash my feet. you shared that this act was a symbol of your love for me. that you would always serve, love, cherish and protect me. that as you wash my feet clean we are reminded again of how we have been washed clean and forgiven. that we have been given, by grace, a new start and a new beginning. and will. you. marry. me?

b, i love that you smell like lemonade in the summer time, and that you call me at least once a day to check in. i love that just last week you cried when our social worker talked to us about our future son, and i love that even after 8 years i still laugh with you every single day.

thank you for being my very best friend. i love you b. today and always. happy anniversary.

and then she was one

2010-10-20T06:15:00.000-07:00

i remember it was a sunny day.

part of me was craving the marine layer. but it was fall, and the fall in october in los osos always delivers. not only was it sunny and bright, but it was the middle of the day. not the morning to get organized, or late afternoon to think about dinner and bedtimes, but smack dab in the middle of laundry, lunchtime, two anxious toddlers and now seven pounds of newborness.

all i wanted to do was wave a wand and have it all disappear. the raging pain when i sat down, the demands and cries of the older ones, and the chaos of a house full of guests. i wanted to lay on the couch alone and let her breathe on my neck while i lost myself somewhere east of eden.

instead i grimaced as i stood, placed the baby in her bouncy seat for what i knew would be the first of too many times, and clocked into the life of my 2.5 and 4 year old.

the day i brought tali home was a hard one.

to say i was under prepared for three kids would be an understatement. people kept telling me the change from 2 to 3 is manageable, and really not much different than two. i'm still pretty sure they were wrong. three kids means you don't fit in most cars, you get invited way less places, and the realization that most of america was designed for a family of four.

i don't remember much of that first week. there was a lot of trial and error. it felt like there were too many needs. so many so, that there really was no time for wants. it felt oppressive, and like a haze had descended upon fearn ave. and just when i was beginning to think this was my new reality, one night it clicked. dinner wasn't chaotic and the kids weren't being babysat by the tv. we had music on, fall was in the air, and it felt like ~~everyone~~ i finally took a deep breath.

i was reminded of that night when i turned our calender to october and saw this picture.

the other day i saw a baby that small and i suddenly felt light headed and short of breath. not in a fearful way, but in an exciting sort of way. since i'm not a baby person, it was weird for me to want to reach out and hold that newborn. i thought of tali and her little hats and hunched over back and slanted eyes and flailing hands, and i thought, i might actually miss that.

i knew tali would be the last baby i would birth. as i mentioned, b and i are not newborn sort of people. we like a good 12 months or so under their belt. consequentially, i find myself in uncharted territory to have these feelings of sadness over her growing up. i've always been a what's next sort of parent. no time to wallow in what has left, the future is just going to be better. but now i find myself telling tali almost daily that i want to fold her back up, put her back in my tummy and do it all over again, cuz she really is JUST. THAT. CUTE.

when i tell people i like her the best or that she's the cutest, they just laugh awkwardly -- and think to themselves 'you are really not supposed to say those sort of things.' and even though i think i feel that way, don't ever try and tell me she's the cutest, cuz my momma bear will come out claw you for calling my other kids second best. shelley said it staright to me one day. she told me i don't really love tali more, its just that she can't talk or move much and she's really cute, and the fact that she is going to be my last birthed child creates a unique sentimentality. it was nice to have that clarity cuz i'm pretty sure your not supposed to have favorites.

so tali june, this little post is for you. you have brought me more joy than i knew i contained. i can't imagine life without you. the fullness you bring my heart as we spoon each morning for your first nurse of the day, the way you light up when i walk in the room, and even the way you pinch the back of my arm till i bruise. you are your own crazy minitaure person and i pray i'll really be able to relish every moment, of every day i have with you.

you have my heart junebug, today and always.

first comes love...

2010-10-08T08:01:00.000-07:00

this last summer b and i were part of two weddings.

two very different weddings.

it had been a long time since we had been in weddings. it seemed like our first three years of marriage were sprinkled with them every few months. so much so, that i think we got a bit jaded. i found myself more caught up in the trivialities of the bridesmaid dresses, the flowers, the food, etc instead of the actual celebration itself.

i got married when i was 23 years old. to say i understood what i was embarking upon would be a vast understatement. three months before i graduated from college i found myself engaged with a fiance who was anticipating a wedding a mere six months away. i threw myself right into the planning. at the time, i'm sure if someone asked me if i knew what marriage meant and the commitment i was making i would've said yes. but it really wasn't until just recently that i began to get a sense of an even bigger meaning.

about a week before my good friend jenny's wedding i had this crazy dream.

i was standing out in front of a high school friend's house that had a huge courtyard in front of it. jenny and jonathon came around the corner in a black car. they parked and started walking up the courtyard. they didn't know i was there, and as far as i could tell no one else was around. they were holding hands as they walked the lengthy and winding pathway to the front door. suddenly on either side of them these angelic beings appeared and began to sing. not like hear comes the bride, but a sort of heavenly chorus-- a melody that brings you to your knees in awe, something that doesn't happen this side of heaven. jenny and jonathon just kept walking as these angels surrounded them almost not really noticing. i, however was blown away.

i never have dreams like that. my dreams usually involve my teeth dissolving, or the odd flying dream and once in awhile a good LSD dream (those acronyms our known by only a select few). so to have this crazy spiritual dream that really was just normal enough to be potentially real, i knew it had to mean something.

the crazy thing was, was that in the dream i knew it wasn't so much about jenny and jonathon. cuz it has always been obvious that god was pleased with their union. i, on the other hand was privileged to understand what it really meant as i stood watching them walk amongst these angels. it was as though for the first time in my life i saw how much god LOVES marriage.

god loves marriage.

saying that god loves marriage to some of you may sound pretty strange, to others of you its totally obvious. the way god and jesus talk about marriage in the bible leaves very little room for interpretation. god esteems it in a way that is almost supernatural. it is something to be treasured and protected at all cost. when brandon and i made our vows we included the phrase, 'i will never divorce you.' at the time making that vow to one another, our family, friends, and god honestly didn't seem that crazy. we were in love, why would we ever get divorced?

but time goes on, and life gets a lot harder. kids, money, temptations - all of it can seem suffocating. its been hard to see our friends struggle, its been even harder to walk through our own struggles.

but after that dream, and with a little help from the ol' love dare, i feel like god has given me a picture of marriage like i've never known. in that dream, to see god so pleased and so glorified in 'man's union' humbled me. as a christian, it is our life ambition to glorify god, to know that he is glorified in marriage is revelatory to me. it inspires and encourages me... and especially challenges me. so as i embark upon eight years with brandon, i want to celebrate not only our milestone, but marriage itself and how it can glorify the god we serve.

watch out, i may just slap an ol 'i love my wife' bumper sticker on b's honda. cuz that's totally hot. and i'm just that crazy.

in process

2010-09-22T08:06:00.000-07:00

i've been wondering for awhile when i'd finally feel ready to share this with y'all. it feels strange to sum you guys up as 'you all.' cuz as i've written before, i'm not sure who a lot of you are.

but i do know this--

some of you are my closest friends. friends who know what i've written before i've even written it. some of you are friends i've known forever, and maybe we don't talk everyday, but we've shared an intimacy that could never be broken. and then some of you are people i've known since i was a kid, who maybe i haven't talked to since then, but we are connected nonetheless through our past. and then there are those of you whom i've never met, or don't know at all, but find yourself here from time to time. and so here i am, ready to share with you what's been taking up a lot of my writing time, and really, just time in general.

i wrote this a few months back...

june.

for a long time, it felt like this long, far off month that would probably never come. then one day i woke up, and it was june 6th and i thought, i guess this is finally the day.

i guess it felt like there should be some sort of ribbon cutting ceremony, or i should've spent the day fasting and praying, or at the least told my husband i finally sent the email. but i didn't.

its not like it was a haste decision. brandon and i have known for a long time that our family wasn't complete. like most decisions, we weighed a lot. how would this impact our kids? how would it impact our community? how would it impact our marriage? or harder, are we good enough? are we holy, or perfect, or together enough to take this on?

and though more often than not the answer was no, we pressed on. like all things there is an unspoken measure of faith that we could never began to describe. we can think it, plan it, picture it, but in the end the call has been made, the email has been sent.

the process begins.'

the rodgers family is officially in process.

the adoption process.

i finally realized it was time when it occurred to me that the secretary at my son's school knew, and my neighbor who i barely speak to found out, and when the lady at the post office looked at me knowingly as i brought her yet more correspondence.

for a long time i felt super guarded about it. even though i would tell people if they asked, i rarely volunteered the information. i found myself torn when someone would ask, 'so, are you guys done???' cuz on one hand we are done, as in, i'm done birthing children, but is our family complete? ... no. so an explanation would eventually ensue and somehow complete strangers came to know that we were adopting.

it was strange for me to have this secret, cuz if you know me at all, i'm pretty much an open book (as if this blog wasn't evidence enough). but something about this felt different. when i spoke to emily about it for the first time, i felt like i finally got some clarity. when i finished telling her, she told me it reminded her of when the shepherds came to visit after jesus's birth. obviously not in the sense that i'm anywhere close to mary, and our son is the savior of the world, but more so in these words, 'but mary treasured up all these things and pondered them in her heart.' (luke 2:19). even though it was crazy exciting for mary, she wasn't jumping from the rooftops proclaiming the news. and for once, that's how i felt. this was just our thing... at least for a little while.

but as we got further along and more was required, i realized the time had come. we are only 4 months in, and its way more (paper)work, and appointments, and just general time than i could've imagined. but with each new form, or email, or fax we know we are one step closer to finalizing our family, and that makes it sooo worth it.

so from time to time i will update you on what's happening with this. at one time i thought i would create a separate blog for the adoption with lealah (who is also adopting-she's just a wee bit behind us), but who am i kidding, i can barely keep this one up! and she's got like 6 jobs and 2 kids of her own. time is not abundant for either of us. one day maybe...

in the meantime there will be bits and pieces, here and there. i will share some of our triumphs, and failures, and our heartbreaks and victories. if you can find it in your heart, i ask only one thing, please pray for us. for him. for lily, ozzy and tali. as all of our worlds begin to change... this is, hands down, the biggest leap of faith we have ever taken and we will need support like we've never known.

thank you.

now i wish this was called webster

2010-09-07T08:00:00.000-07:00

i know i've been a bit out of the loop lately. you'll have to trust me... i have been writing. i really have. and i'm super excited to share with you more about what's been happening with me (as if that's more possible, right?) anyway, its gonna be a bit longer. but i think you'll like it. i really do.

in the meantime, i'm getting back to some tickled to meet you tuesdays... or wednesdays, or whatever day i can get it out.

now that school's in full swing, i've been thinking a bit about my own school days. i remember each year i turned a year older, my dad upped my curfew about a half hour. this proved to be very effective for all the tv i watched. now thursdays, i could watch the cosby show, and a different world. exciting stuff huh?!

but i'm not gonna bore you with my psycho-analysis on why the cosby show could've been the greatest show of all time. instead, we are going to focus on a one hit wonder that aired every monday night on nbc for 4 sweet years.

one word.

ALF.

no, that's not what he looked like, i just couldn't resist

i just **googled** the show and got waaay more information about it than i could've ever wanted on wikipedia. now i feel not only embarrassed, but overwhelmed at the depth behind a funny puppet dude. i'm kind of starting to wonder if vicki was even real after reading this. all i know is i definitely side with this quote... 'fusco (the puppeteer) was secretive about his character up until the series premiere. during the shows production, fusco refused to acknowledge that the puppet ALF was anything other than an alien. all involved with the production were cautioned not to give away any of ALF's secrets.'

that's pretty hard core. i love a good thespian who won't break character.

then i read this quote, 'cast interviews since the show ended have revealed a few details about making the series: to make room for the puppeteers, the entire set was built on a raised platform with dozens of trapdoors in the floor. the trapdoors had to be reset multiple times, sometimes during a single scene, forcing them to shoot each episode over the course of several hours and without a studio audience.'

imagine spending an afternoon at one of those tapings...

and then this, 'the production of ALF was technically difficult and demanding. all four lead actors – Max Wright (Willie Tanner), Anne Schedeen (Kate Tanner), Andrea Elson (Lynn Tanner) and Ben Hertzberg, also known as Benji Gregory (Brian Tanner) – have conceded a high level of tension on the set.'

surprise, surprise.

^{which didn't shock me when i finished with this, 'in the series finale ALF is about to be rescued by}

other survivors of his home planet, but is instead captured by the American military, and the viewer is left to ponder ALF's ultimate fate. this was not supposed to be the finale, as the original airing ended on a "To Be Continued" note. the producers supposedly had a verbal agreement with NBC to get at least one more episode to resolve the cliffhanger. NBC never made good on the deal, and the series was canceled. however, the story was concluded in the TV-movie project ALF.'

so i know that's way more information than you ever wanted to know about that fuzzy buddy. but after all this, i now know that if i had to choose one fictional character i would adopt into my extended family, it would definitely be ALF. simply because ET is so 1982, and vicki is a total freak-- even if she is now an OB nurse and went to college with one of my friends.

so with that said, i wanna know, which fictional character would you choose to adopt into your extended family to make gatherings more interesting?

oh and i'm pretty sure i'm gonna get this tattoo...

**do yourself a favor and do not google image ALF. its pretty intense.**

kinderwonder

2010-08-23T10:10:00.000-07:00

every fall i get this feeling.

i look around my church and i see these kids with their parents and its all to familiar. not familiar in the sense that i've experienced it, but familiar in the sense that i know how fast it will be here.

i know i'm supposed to be all choked up about my firstborn starting kindergarten, but for some reason i've skipped all her schooling and gone straight to college. i don't know what it is about these kids that makes me cry my eyes out. the fact that they have made it this far? the fact that they are at church with their parents still? the fact that they want God to be a part of their college experience? whatever the case, it gets me every year...

and this year... the stakes are higher.

because....

its that time. you've read them before. i'm pretty sure all mom bloggers are required to write one. but this is my first, obligatory kindergarten post.

this wednesday, lily pearl rodgers will march her way two blocks up the road and begin her school career.

as most of you know, i got a pretty good size sentimental bone in this ol body of mine. i get sappy like the best of them. the baby girl, our firstborn, my goose is beginning a totally new season of her life. everyone always tells you how fast it flies by, and you laugh politely not feeling that way at all, and then all of the sudden you wake up one day, and pack a lunch and drop her off.

she's someone now, outside of you.

and that's a feeling i know i will never get used to. i remember the first time i realized that lily actually had an identity, a life, experiences outside of me. it was stupid, it was about a pretzel-- i wrote this about it:

she is two years old. it's not like she doesn't have any sort of life outside me... but the other day I was struck by something she said. we were on the rodgers houseboat just hanging out. b's mom, shelley, started to get some snacks out... hummus, carrots, crackers, pretzels etc... I asked lily if she wanted some carrots or crackers (two staples in her diet) and she said, ' no, I want those'- pointing to the pretzels. i thought, that's funny, since she is not the most daring eater, why would she want those skinny looking pretzel sticks- they don't even look interesting. so i pointed to the bag and said, 'these, are you sure?' she quickly said, 'yes- i want those ones.' so i hand her the bag and she pulls one out. just before she takes a bite, she pauses and looks up at me and in a real matter of fact way she says , 'i have these at preschool.'it was a simple as that, and i was just struck. to think she experienced something outside of our little world was so baffling to me. not only did she experience it, she liked it- and i wasn't even there to share it. i know it seems silly, and really pretty inconsequential. but for the first time in my life with lily, i kind of felt like an outsider. somehow i know it won't be the last time. just a reminder, i suppose, to cherish the mundane- even if it means a new type of cracker- it's still just ours.

that was 3 short years ago. since then, she's had many more experiences like that. some were big, some were little, but as her mom, i've known at least in part about the majority of them. though i try to be that ever-present available figure in her life, the reality is i have 2 other kids to chase after. 2 other kids to shine that magnifying glass on. its not easy having to miss stuff, or not being available in the way i always thought i would be-- she's my baby after all. she's the only one that had my sole affection for so long-- 19 months to be precise.

even though she makes me crazy most days, with her incessant wardrobe changes and snotty attitude, every once in awhile i'll catch a glimpse of what was. just yesterday in fact, as she was laying in the bath, her hair was wet and slicked back to her head, almost giving the appearance of no hair. i was busy reading a book and she called my name to have me look at her go underwater. i looked up and for just a split second with her wet hair, all i saw was her face.

this face

and i remembered.

i remembered sleepless nights, pacing the downstairs, begging for sleep.

and then not long after, losing sleep --worrying about how she didn't eat, or why she couldn't poop, or why she seemed so different than other kids.

but i also remembered this...

she was the only one who got this.

she was my first and last in so many ways.

our bond is tight, sometimes strangulation sort of tight.

so with that said. i bid you farewell in many ways LP. i pray and hope that you will always want to share with me. whether its about your first crush, your new favorite book, or the first time your heart gets broken, i am your mom and i love you like you'll never know. i know you'll do great on wednesday.

and for the record, i'll always remember us like this....

oh, and monarch grove elementary, i know you do this every year with dozens of kids. though this year may not seem any different to you, it is to me. i'm trusting you with the best thing that ever happened to me.

don't let me down.

and good luck.

your gonna need it.

dolphins

2010-08-10T06:44:00.000-07:00

once upon a time there was a six year old girl.

this little girl loved sports. this was strange cuz her parents could really care less about athletics, and her only sibling was to much older to really have a major impact on her.

when she was eight years old, her best friend 'dared' her to try a contest taking place during recess. since she was never one to back down from a dare, she walked over to the basketball courts where the contest was taking place. she wrote her name down and waited in line. when it was her turn, an edelrly man handed her a basketball and told her to try and throw it into the basket. since she had never played basketball before she wasn't exactly sure what to do, but knew that somehow she would have to get it into the net. so she dropped the ball down and threw it up underhand - also known as granny style. much to her surprise the ball went in the net. she had to do it 10 more times and ended up making 8 of the 10. a few minutes later that same gentleman told her she had won the contest.

the little girl was shocked.

for at the wee age of 8 she experienced for the first time what it felt like to be good at something. she went on to compete county wide where she took second. thus launching her little know basketball career. she continued to compete in the contests for the next few years, winning at the school and then county level almost every time. when she was 10 she got her big break and made it all the way to the Los Angeles Semi -State Finals, where she heartbreakingly took second.

the little girl quickly realized that she loved basketball. she would go to the recreation department almost every day after school and practice shooting. she would sleep with her basketball and watched micheal jordan religiously. basketball was her world, her everything.

by the time she was 9, she began to realize that athletics came easy to her. why not mix it up? after a brief AYSO soccer career, she decided to take it to the next level.

since her second love was the SF 49ers, which she also watched religiously every sunday with her dad and brother, she thought maybe she'd try her hand at football. the adults around her just kind of laughed at the idea, and strung her along in the expectation the phase would pass.

but this little girl was very stubborn.

and so when she saw signs for pop warner youth football, she threw a massive fit until her mom walked her over to the sign-ups. the good ol boys had a good laugh at the idea and humored her mom-- secretly hoping it couldn't be-- surely there must be something in the rules about girls not playing!

yet they were wrong, and it was then and there that a skinny little girl called holly richmond became the first girl in SLO county to play pop warner football.

with that sweet tale, i'm dying to know....

'what about your childhood wouldn't most people guess?'

make out mountain

2010-08-02T06:24:00.000-07:00

sorry if you've missed me.

i wish i could say i've been to busy makin love like p diddy, but instead i've been busy being in the most beautiful wedding of all time (besides my own) and trying to ferberize my 9 month old.

what can i say, life gets busy.

but oh, oh how i have missed thee...

and though i haven't been hittin the sugar shack as much as i want to, i will say i have been thinking a bit about makin out.

see it always comes back to running.

i realized the other day as i was running in slo that this dang town is sooooo full of memories. on a whim, i headed over the jennifer st bridge, and huffed my way up terrace hill, and when i reached the plateau, the memories came a floddin.'

for those of you who aren't lucky enough to call yourself slo locals.... you might not know that terrace hill is where it ALL went down. since slo is such a small town, there wasn't like old cornfields or abandoned barns for us wily high-schoolers to drink our beer in-- instead we devised a 'hill' that was just difficult enough to climb up to stave off those bored coppers roaming the streets. every few months or so from the years 1993-1997 we would receive 'word' that something was gonna shake down on ol t-hill. so we'd round up some fuzzy navel and our best v-neck and make the trek. when we'd finally reach the top, instead of marveling at the beautiful town below us, we'd try and scope out who was makin out with who, and where the liquor was (we were a classy bunch).

anyway, the general debauchery would continue until we saw those little flashlights makin their way up the path. word would hit, and we would scatter like leaves in the wind-- we'd be trickling down the sides of terrace hill, running through brush, tripping over rocks, all just to avod the 5-o. later we'd call each other and tell of our escape, and who we made it with. other times we'd hear of the not so luckies that landed the dreaded MIP. in any event terrace hill was a big part of my high school experience....

but that's not where i got busted.

3 words: laguna lake park.

now let me just preface by saying there are many places to 'park' in slo in the back of your boyfriends parents 4-runner. laguna lake is not one of them.

picture it: me, 1996. tired of the old make-out spots, me and a boy we'll call 'gunner' decide to mix it up. we start driving around and make our way over to the ~~glorified pond~~ lake. we drive around to the back, past the park, and find a spot. one thing leads to the next (as it does quickly in high school) and before i know it we're in it thick. and not seconds after we round second base, a little light flashes in those factory tinted windows. at first we just ignore it, prolly just a car driving by, but then the light becomes brighter, and is accompanied by knocking and a deep voice. suddenly we become very aware that someone is trying to get our attention, and short of feeling like we're in the sequel to scream, i scrounge to find my shirt as gunner rolls down a window.

officer: 'good evening. what are you doing here?'

gunner: 'oh, just hanging out.'

officer: 'just hanging out huh? are you alone?' as he flashes his light to the back of the car and sees me holding a shirt up across my chest. 'hmm, i see.'

gunner: 'we were a just hanging out, i promise,' as his voice starts to quake and moves an octave higher.

officer: 'do your parents know where you are?' the dreaded words. for the love, please don't call our parents.

after what seemed like an eternity he finally said, 'alright, you kids run along home now, i don't want to see you over here again, you got that?'

a resounding 'yes sir!'

we got our clothes rearranged and gunner started the car.

'whew, that was close huh?' he said.

'yeah, kinda scary. my heart was pounding!' i confessed.

after a minute, i looked over at him and said, 'well, should we head to the airport viewing lot?'

and off we went. you can't stop ~~hormones~~ teenage love, just ask jake ryan.

so with that said, please do tell...

'where is your hometown's best make-out spot?'

or... for the brave few--

'have you ever been caught in the act?'

2010-07-20T08:44:00.001-07:00

summer hasn't been so bad.

not nearly as hard as i thought. kids have only been making me a tiny bit crazy. we've stayed busy with camps, elks, bbq's, friends, camping. you know the drill. your basic summatime.

since we were out of town last weekend and are leaving in a couple days for yosemite, i thought i'd grace y'all with the best part of my summer-- these faces.

holy crap, i'm cute y'all!

i finally got my blue eyed beauty

you didn't know i had 3 girls huh?

teaching tali to read. cuz we're genius's

fernwood camp trip May 2010

my house is a very, very, very fine house

2010-07-14T07:41:00.000-07:00

when b and i heard the news from his ever so generous parents that owning a home could become a reality for us, we immediately began our search.

first, we found the best realtor in the county (we didn't have to look far!) and began pouring over the MLS. we knew immediately that slo wasn't gonna be an option. we tried to finagle a way to make it happen, but knew that if we did, we'd be at the high end of what we could afford and stuck in a tiny house. we decided on either arroyo grande or los osos. we had a lot of friends in AG and knew that the commute would be minor for b. in the back of our minds we also knew that AG would likely be a better investment in the long run, but in the end it came down to one thing.

surfing.

yep, that's right. we basically chose los osos cuz the waves are better here. now before all you south countiers get up in arms, just know we don't hate the wrongboarders out in shell, or all of bakersfield that invades pismo all summer long-- its just we really like the idea that we could be contaminating our groundwater with our own s%*t.

nah, the reality is neither of them are perfect, but at the time osos is where we thought we would call home.

for those of you who know me, you know i love los osos. i could dedicate entire blogs to this town. sure its kooky, sandy, full of hippies and lacking a sewer or basic city planning, but the reality is, its also full of a lot of really awesome people parked in one of the most ~~foggiest~~ beautiful areas on the central coast. we got mountain biking, boating, surfing, trail running, hiking, literally all minutes from our door. and one of the raddest parts about it, is we have wonderful neighbors and friends to share it with.

yet, i digress once again. so began our search in los osos. we looked at a lot of houses. i was convinced that we couldn't be on a numbered street because no one would come visit us (this was before i moved all of my best friends here). i thank the lord b didn't listen to that crazy talk and convinced me that i couldn't discriminate against numbered streets. we found our way to a little part of osos called cuesta by the sea. our good friends had nothing but rave reviews about this little nook. heck- it was close to MDO and the seconds from the bay... how could we go wrong? we settled on a charming little (emphasis on little) house just two blocks from the bay. after much brilliant negotiation (thanks to our realtor) we still couldn't agree on a price. so one evening when we were hashing out whether or not we should go for it, we stumbled upon this....

we'd seen it a few times, but it was just a hair out of our price range. not to mention, it was a bit funky. but hey, its osos right? anyhow, we decided to at least check it out. i wish i could tell you it was love at first sight, but the massive rock fireplace wall, and cottage cheese ceilings were distracting me. we wandered around, and though it wasn't exactly hoarders material, there really was a lot of crap loaded in it. but it wasn't annoying crap. it was a desk in the living room, cuz there was no room for it in the kids rooms. it was surfboards and skateboards and bmx bikes hanging from the rafters in their crammed to the gils garage, it was their hand prints in the cement near the front door, it was the dining room table jammed into the corner of the kitchen with the light off-center just to be able to maximize the space and be able to fit 4 teenage kids around the dinner table. and then it was the owner of the house telling us how her son rides his bike to baywood for pizza, and her daughter rides horses up the street. and lastly, it was her telling us they already bought another house with the assurance that this house would sell a lot faster than it was. as much as i'd like to say it was my stellar negotiation skills, it really was their 'tight' situation that enabled us to reach an agreement. 30 days later we moved in two truckloads our stuff from our 750 sq ft studio on garden st. that first night we sat on the floor and ate pizza with some friends and marveled that we were now homeowners. when we went to bed that night, i laid there thinking about the baby in my tummy kicking and thought 'the house seems different than i remembered.'

sometimes i'll find myself coveting clean, new, big, shiny houses, or beautiful, old restored homes and think, 'why i am stuck in this semi-remodeled 1970's architectural experiment on a tiny lot on a street with no sidewalks?' and then i look around and can't find a matching pillowcase to save my life, or notice that our crown molding project is on two of three walls, or i see cobwebs under the eaves of our roof, or i drive up and just pray someone would please dump buckets of paint on it. but then when i walk inside and see this

and this

and this,

and of course, this

and i know.

i know that even though my house is definitely lacking refinement, and its scattered with kids artwork and hot wheels and polly pockets shoes, and no matter how much i clean it it never will smell like the new homes i used to sell, i know in my heart that this is my home, and i wouldn't have it any other way.

so with that said, i'd love to hear...

'what makes a house a home?'

mo money, mo problems.

2010-07-04T08:17:00.000-07:00

i grew up in the other side of the tracks.

that is, if slo had tracks.

i would have been on the other side. you know the ones... most of my friends were on the right side. i've written before about coveting white carpets and new appliances and a mom and dad under the same roof, and the smell of freshly baked cookies. and though i spent a significant part of my weekends at such houses, i always came home to one amazing mom and thursday nights at my dads. we never had a lot of money. we had just enough.

don't get me wrong, i can't tell you how thankful i was for those deep country club pockets that provided me experiences my parents never could have- third row seats to warrior games, trips to hawaii, and magic mountain. fun stuff for sure, all with someone else's family. i loved and treasured those trips cuz they were definitely not the norm for me. though they weren't something my parents could afford, i remember feeling satisfied, i was never scared, and never hungry. sure, i longed for presents and gifts and the immediate gratification i saw my friends provided, but it wasn't something that consumed me.

now that i'm all growed up with a family of my own, it got me thinking i could really be a consumer if i had the resources. to be honest, having *a lot* of money scares me. could i really be trusted? mo money, mo problems yo. i gotta admit there's a bit of romance in just squeaking by-- like well, if i want to get that, i got to sell this... there is a satisfaction that comes from actually wanting-- not just always getting. sounds crazy i know and b thinks i'm coo-coo, but honestly i guess i just know my carnal nature.

yet just when we began heading towards affluenza, something changed. that little bitch called the economy. everyone loves to blame everything on the economy. and really, rightly so. crappy economy=crappy jobs=zero dollars. for a lot of people our age-ish, this whole economy tanking has been a bit of a rude awakening. maybe some of us felt the effect of a similar time in the early 90's when the market crashed... but we were teenagers and so the stress of money was distant. for most of us, the hardest part meant we wouldn't be getting our subscription to seventeen renewed. we didn't have to worry so much about food and shelter, our parents shouldered that. and then we went to college and things were kinda crappy when we graduated, but then it quickly turned around. jobs! jobs! jobs! then a lot of us got married and guess what, it didn't matter how much money you made- 'no income, no assets' became our best friend. a lot of us got into houses we couldn't afford and popped out a few kids and then we woke up and were like, 'oh crap, we can't make our mortgage!' and suddenly the stakes were so much higher, cuz we had people we were responsible for. very little people.

i feel super fortunate to have escaped most of this. i mean really fortunate. b has had some pay cuts and my real estate career - wait what? your a realtor? like a broker? like you would love to help us find our dream home? or list our house for a 1% listing? yes, as a matter of fact i would. and the good news is, i will work my mother of 3 booty off for you, ~~cuz you are probably my only client~~ i care that much. ahem, as i was saying, my real estate career has ~~tanked~~ slowed downed considerably. however, we are fortunate to have that little bit of savings (from the good ol days) that continues to waste away as we nibble away at it each month to make up for the pay-cuts. with that said, i have so many friends that this has affected in a really, really real way. its so difficult to watch your friends gasping to stay afloat, and feeling too strapped yourself to help in a substantial way. i want to blame someone, like bush, or fox news, or hurricane katrina, or the j-holes on wall street, but nothing really helps. the fact of the matter is, whether you are loosing your home to foreclosure, or just barely squeaking by each month, times are tight.

so when b and i got to talking the other day about how few dollars we actually have, i told him if we just (just always being the operative word) had like $300 more a month, we could make it. and he said, 'with that extra money, would we be putting any into savings?'

yeah right.

it was then and there we decided that you were officially doing okay if you were able to save each month. the reality is, we live paycheck to paycheck, and so do almost all of our friends.

so with that said, i'd love to know...

'how much money do you need to make before it's enough?'

leave it to the wise woman...

comment of the day: I once heard "enough is a little bit more than you already have." so we never have enough. it's good that we are all in the boat together. the most generous people i know have next to nothing. just a reminder that this is not our home.

-Roxanne Foote

bed bugs

2010-06-29T06:12:00.000-07:00

do yourself a favor and do NOT google image search bedbugs. i'm pretty sure i just threw up in my mouth.

bed bugs are hot right now. oprah got them on her show, and now no one is safe anymore. i'm not so concerned about bed bugs because i'm to busy being stressed out about black mold and flesh eating maggots dropping slowly into your bed over the course of two days before realizing it. but that's another TRUE story for another time. in any event i got to thinking about beds in general the other day when we decided to take down the co-sleeper. with tali being almost 8 months old, we are dangerously close to getting our ferber on and letting her cry it out. its never easy, but we have to before we decide to start continuum parenting which is always creepy.

so anyway, as b wrestled the co-sleeper out of our room i took a wee peek under it and then further under our bed. it was the usual suspects, long lost pacifiers, used and un-used nursing pads, ~~a liberator love pad~~, stray infant socks, all nestled in copious amounts of hair and dust. pretty awesome, and very stressful for my inner ~~non-existent~~ neat freak. in any event it got me thinking- i've come a long way from the drug paraphernalia and too short cd's hiding under my bed from my youth. cuz really, nothing says mom like lost breast pump parts being found under your bed when you do finally do get the hose attachment on your vacuum and bend over to clean. don't be jealous.

i know its not the most exciting question-- or maybe it is... in any event, please do tell,

'what's under your bed?'

i knew he'd claim it as soon as he came around... he's kind of a genius and if you haven't already, you should really check out his blog- just don't start reading his instead of mine.

comment of the day: a secret hatch that when opened, reveals a ladder that takes you down to an underground bunker with a single desk, on which sits a computer that I make Jenn enter the numbers 4 8 15 16 23 and 42 into, lest the world come to an end.

-Travis Avila

safety first

2010-06-22T05:55:00.000-07:00

i love running in san luis.

i can't tell you how many times i've been so ready to dedicate an entire blog to all the sights and scents that spell home to me. from the smell of wet asphalt at my old elementary, to the myriads of all those flowers i don't know the names of (yes i still pay $100 a month for the B.S in horticulture i received at cal poly).

SLO has it all, and then some.

today that 'some' came in the form of my personal safety. for those of you that are female, who run or hike, personal safety is never far from your mind. i have lots of friends who only run/hike with someone else, or carry pepper spray, or some other form of defense-- but then there are those of us, myself included, who are naive enough to think that they are immune to any sort of calamity. its SLO after all right?!

i live in osos. i do most of my running in osos. MDO is my backyard and it doesn't get much better trail running than out here. of course there have been a few isolated cases of attack in the park, but for the most part it feels pretty darn safe- our biggest threat being ticks, snakes and oak. i've had my run in with all three, including the time a baby rattlesnake blocked my path and i had to be rescued by st. francis of montana de oro, or as i later found out the checker on aisle 4 at trader's. but that's another story for another time. i'm used to the park, and when i get my music goin' and my stride dialed, i rarely feel frightened, or consumed by the idea that mariska hargitay will have to discover my body later.

so the other day when my mom offered to watch the kids so i could go on a run, i agreed immediately. after dropping the kids off, i got my shoes on, turned up the gaga and hit the pavement. one of my old running routes from my days in SLO involves meadow park. growing up, meadow was my old stomping grounds. i had a bunch of friends in elementary school who lived there and i spent countless hours in that neighborhood doing paper routes, playing softball, and hiding in the bushes to spray innocent bystanders with a water main. there were some good times for sure. so when i passed the obligatory homeless man i didn't think much of it, till a few hundred meters up i thought, that guy wasn't just collecting cans in his shopping cart- there was more- he had that look that crazy couldn't contain. it gave me a little shiver as i made my way onto the path in meadow park. of course just as i turn the corner i almost hit another (male) runner, and then we do that super awkward like who's gonna take the lead bit- there are only two of us on this single track path, and i'm having thoughts like 'if i'm in front he'll probably attack me from behind, if only my hand could automatically turn into a switchblade when i'm provoked...' you know all the normal stuff. once i safely get away from him, i notice a 'work crew'- you know the kind. yeah, the CMC kind. of course they are hardly working and seemingly very loosely supervised. i keep going, and just as i'm getting ready to exit the park altogether and get back on the road, i see a creepy white van that unfortunately i've seen at other parks one to many times. next time i see it, i'm totally calling the cops. i'm not one to judge *ahem* but that thing has got amber alert written all over it. i tell you what, i'll take the cat ladies any day in their ratty ol station wagon parked in front of meadow park. at least they loved animals, even if they were the reason the show 'hoarders' came to be. so i make it out of the park, back on the roads, and have a pretty uneventful rest of the run beside some questionable rabid dog that i was convinced would attack if i ran by to fast. but then i remembered i have that fear every time i run by a dog after being 'for real' attacked while running when i lived in ediburgh.

so the rest of the way to my mom's house i thought about how i could prepare myself next time for all of these 'situations.' and then it came to me... a flash of pure genius. picture it, me 12 years old, in a hot sweaty building near franks famous hot dogs. the room was packed to the gills of women of all ages from 15-75 all awaiting their chance. 'next up, we have connie mcnoble...' i hear someone shout. everyone starts cheering. i wait anxiously as my mom comes out with her war cry. next thing i know a huge thing comes chasing after her- likely a man dressed in a hockey/football combo uniform with what looks like an nasa astronaut mask on his face. next thing i know my mom is hi-ya-ing and ka-booming this fool. the crowd goes wild. my mom has him pinned... all 110 lbs of her. handled. i'm confused, but incredibly proud. who can forget... model mugging.

no, that's not dark vador, just your local model mugger.

so the real question i know you are dying to ask... am i going to re-start a chapter locally? i know, so very tempting, but even with all my free time, i think i'm gonna pass. in the meantime we gotta figure out a way to stay safe in this urban jungle called SLO. so here's where you come in...

'how do you best protect yourself when you go running or hiking by yourself?'

i copied this idea from my favorite blogger of all time cuz she's kind of a genius and i want to be just like her when i grow up and or be her comment of the day... wink wink.

comment of the day: i read a kids book in middle school where the heroine used ground mustard; she tossed it into the attackers' eyes. i'm carrying a li'l bag until i can get a dog. or a tazer.

-esther jane

mustard in the eye. genius. thanks esther.

i'm not always a coward. well, come to think of it, i am.

2010-06-08T07:24:00.000-07:00

this is basically what i looked like everyday, but if the car was blue...

every year for my birthday and christmas my grandma jeanie gave me $100. that's a lot of money when you're six years old- heck its a lot of money today! so much so, that i didn't totally grasp how much money i was really raking in twice a year.

however it wasn't a couple years later, when i was eight years old, and my brother was 15 that i realized i had a plan for this money. while he was busy trying to find a way to convince my parents to buy him a car, i watched and listened carefully. i can remember several long arguments as he pleaded his case. i vowed then and there i would not have to go through that. i decided to open a bank account and save all the money grandma jeanie gave me, so that on june 20, 1995 i could not only get my license, but also have my own car.

so for the next eight years, i dutifully took that check from grandma and walked over to the ol' sesloc and deposited that 100 bucks (except one christmas when i was ten years old, the weberstown mall beckoned me to buy my first leather jacket- a must when you are ten years old, but also a bit sketchy cuz afterall you are in stockton). since the math might be too difficult, i'll spare you- by the time i was 16 years old, i had close to $2000 bucks.

lucky for me, my mom's friend was selling an old volvo. not just any old volvo, but a 1982 sparkly blue turbo. this thing was bad A-S-S. not like the range rovers and beamers you see crowding the parking lots of SLOHS, this thing was growly, chunky and pure awesomeness. clearly the hottest thing to grace that parking lot in a long time. i can't tell you how cool it was to have my OWN car. FREEDOM!

after acing (that's right i got 100) on my driving test, i hit the open road. i immediately paid to get a cd player installed so i didn't have to do the ol discman with tape adapter biz my friends were wrestling with. i blasted indigo and sarah, smoked newports and just drove.

life was good.

but of course, like all new drivers i found myself in a new world. from learning to pull over for ambulances, to letting the car to your right go first at a stop sign, there was lots to learn. there was also lots to get pissed off about. like most teenage drivers i rolled through stop signs, sped, cut people off, and even flipped the bird more than i should have. this sort of behavior not only landed me some tickets and accidents, but also a few other incidents.

it was a tuesday afternoon and i had just pulled out onto johnson near SLOHS. as i pulled into the left lane i saw a car come speeding up super fast behind me. i pulled in front of it and accelerated as not to piss them off. however, she had other ideas. i should have clued into the 80's red camero and realized that this was not gonna end well. she came up super fast on my tail and started honking and waving, like i'd run over her cat or something. i was looking at her in my rear view mirror as she ranted and raved. i didn't feel like i had really done anything so wrong, so i decided to piss her off by going super slow. this really made her angry, so she decided to pass me. as she was passing me, i sped up and she got caught between me and two cars. by now she's super pissed, so much so, that she slows down and rolls down her window yelling at me to pull over. at this point i started to get a bit nervous, cuz my last altercation didn't exactly prove me a winner. so i tried to ignore her and just speed up. but instead, she got behind me and just kept yelling and motioning for me to pull over. this went on for what seemed like forever. i kept trying to loose her, but she was committed to settling this.

finally i realized that she was not gonna let this go. so i signaled to the right and pulled over on pismo st. i'd just calmly explain to her that i was sorry and we could just forget about the whole thing. she quickly signaled and pulled up right behind me as i came to a stop. i waited in my car as she opened her door. as soon as her door had closed and she began to walk my way, i saw that she was still clearly very pissed-- no raiders bomber jacket, but she was easily in her early 30's and quite possibly high on angel dust (or so i thought). just as she was about 5 feet from my window, i sped away. i watched in my mirror as she ran back to her car, but there was no way. she was safely behind me. another disaster averted, this one without tears, but a pounding heart nonetheless.

so with that said, please, do tell.

'have you ever road raged someone?'

meat might still be murder

2010-06-01T05:51:00.000-07:00

why yes, i did just throw up in my mouth

when i was 12 years old i went to my aunt's house for the week to visit my cousins. my aunt was fresh out of a divorce and exploring some alternative ways of living. after the typical greetings and chitchat with the family, my usual june cleaver sort of aunt led me into their tv room to watch a little video.

this little video single handedly changed my life. ol johnny boy had his share of all that casein with baskin robins and was ready to blow our minds. he was kind of like the original micheal moore-- exposing the underbelly of what makes america taste so good...

anyway, the next 45 minutes my little sixth grade mind began to burst at the seams. seeing chickens and cows slaughtered in such a carnal and gruesome manner seriously traumatized me. i vowed then and there to never eat meat again. EVER.

and i didn't. for a good 10 years i stayed away from all forms of meat. i wore my vag badge proud much to the demise of many around me. it wasn't until i met b that i started to slip. he lured me into the meat trap once again (that's what she said) with whispers of bacon.... as he always says, 'pork is the gateway meat-- it will bring you back to red meat in the blink of an eye.' it wasn't long till i was slammin down sliders at applebee's with the best of 'em. no amount of threats from my brother about trichinosis could touch me now, i was makin up for lost time. supersize me seemed like a great idea, not to show how nasty mc'd's was but just cuz you got to eat that much mcdonald's... that was how far i had fallen.

with my mouth dripping with the sweet, salty gristle of bacon, i turned my eyes, ears and heart from the continued warnings... every once in awhile i'd catch glimpses of that sunny afternoon in my aunt's house, or flash back to uptain sinclair's the jungle, but for the most part the vag in me had died- just like the chickens getting electrocuted in those big drums of water. i would never be a vegetarian again.

but before i knew it suddenly it seemed ol mr. robbins was on to something. movies like food, inc came out pleading with us to stop poisoning ourselves and watch what we eat. yet i had turned, and i just wasn't sure i could come back. i started to rebel. not just in my actions, but in my heart. i wasn't gonna fall for this hoopla, these people were annoying. i had to shut them out... meat can't be murder! i love it too much!

maybe its the semi annual mr. micheals fur haters, or the fine folks over at fox news, or maybe even all those tree huggin liberals in berkely. whatever the case, i want to know...

'which activists are the most annoying?'

six month biscuits

2010-05-26T06:29:00.000-07:00

six months seems to be a good marker for kids. they have finally exited the newborn stage, can hold a toy or two, flirting with solid foods, but still have the innocence of a new baby. tali is just past six months old, and seriously i tell her almost daily that i want to fold her back up and put her in my tummy just to freeze time. i CANNOT get enough of her. she really is scrumptious.

back when oz turned six months, i put this post up. looking at them then and looking at them now is crazy. back then i thought they looked pretty different... today they undoubtedly look like brother and sister. since they have been about the same height for a year now, i get asked almost daily if they are twins. when t hit the scene people tried to say she looked different. now that she's six months, how bout you guys weigh in?

and then i saw these similarities...

i think the biggest thing we can take from these last few pictures is that with three kids, we've had to make some sacrifices... bottles to cans... we do what we gotta do to put ~~beer~~ food on the table.

tightropes are slippery

2010-05-18T04:48:00.000-07:00

if this is your first time reading this blog, you should definitely click on the column on the right... i promise i'm not always this crazy...

but its been one of THOSE ~~weeks~~ days... you know the ones.

my life is pretty good. sometimes it feels like its too good. chris calls it common grace, and honestly i like that approach rather than thinking its so good that something bad is bound to happen.

last mothers day we had brunch at robins in cambria. there were lots of little kids around having breakfast with their families. we were no exception, but for once our kids were surprisingly decent. in fact as i watched a little 14 month old toddle around picking up food off the ground being chased by his dad, i actually had just a twinge of nostalgia (forgetting of course that that will be us again in 6 short months). but still, i rarely wish my kids would stay little, so it was somewhat noteworthy for me.

then the next day it all came crashing down. i felt crazy dealing with the kids all day. i ignored, i threatened, i cried, yet nothing seemed to work. they fight, they hit, and we all feel just plain ugly.

i realized a few weeks back that when i have days like that its usually because i am at home more than usual, and i'm trying to accomplish other things. imagine that-- a stay at home mom actually trying to do something else!

and that's when it hit me- the hardest thing about being a stay at home mom is trying to do anything else.

i guess i'm realizing that the kids are still so young... they are not only emotionally demanding (never goes away i'm told) but also physically. that, in combination of being up so much nursing the baby, and being 'on' for the older ones all day, by the time 2 rolls around, i need a serious break. however, since they don't nap anymore, most days i feel like i want to break windows.

i don't want to sound ungrateful. i love being able to stay at home. its an honor and a privilege, and i wouldn't have it any other way. but so much time with the kids can began to consume me so much, that i worry its beginning to define me.

and honestly, that scares the crap out of me. i can't, i won't become one of those moms so wrapped up in their kids lives that one day i wake up and they are gone, and i can't remember who i am.

what kind of music i like (actually i don't even know that now), what my hobbies are? my passions? who and where my husband and friends are? i liken it to breaking up with the high school boyfriend and wondering who you are... you hear yourself ask yourself questions like i really do like blink 182 right?

3 kids is hard.

its hard not being able to meet all their needs. its hard wrestling with the guilt of loosing it on them. its hard when you don't feel like they hear anything you say. i want to be a great mom, but there is so much more i want to do.

i want to make running grrrl's great. i want the time to answer emails, and organize runs and reach out to the community. i want to have a joyful heart in hosting the bible study at my house for my dear girls on monday nights. i want to notice when my husband gets a haircut, or remember my good friends birthdays.

i want to write.

i really want to write. i want this blog to be great, and a place where people can laugh and cry and maybe have a bowel movement... whatever. i just want more and i want to do it without it being at the expense of my kids.

balance has never been as hard as it is right now. time feels so elusive and so very sacred. i know i'm not alone in this, and for that i am so thankful. we all have our own unique struggles and today, now you know mine. thanks for listening.

when therapists can't help you...

2010-05-11T06:45:00.000-07:00

elevators.

elevators seriously used to make me crazy. from about age 6-12 i'd almost have a panic attack if i had to go in one. due to the fact that my parents were going through a divorce around that time, i was graced with countless hours in a therapists chair. i got to draw lots of pictures of how i felt, and what i wanted my family to look like... and then one day she asked me if there was anything else i would like to talk about. as she likely braced herself for some profound confession of abuse or teary admission of sin, i simply looked at her and said 'elevators.'

elevators?

'yes, i'm terribly scared to go in elevators. not just like claustrophobic scared, but like i'm almost positive that if i step inside one i will get trapped and it will just so happen to be in the twin towers and airplanes will come crash into them (premonition?)'

so maybe i didn't say it exactly like that, but in my mind that was definitely what was going to happen.

she listened carefully as i told her about all the hysteria surrounding elevators for me. after giving me some line about how its a metaphor for how i feel trapped by my parents separation... she quickly realized that this was the kinda situation that no amount of xanax could help.

soooo like any good psychologist she told me she would have some ideas on how to fix this next time we meet (cuz who the hell teaches you in school how to counsel a 10 yr old kid on overcoming elevator fears-- this was clearly going to take some deep research).

fortunately for me riding in elevators was not part of my daily living. but i tell you what, the day i walked out of her office, i had the utmost confidence that my problem would quickly be solved. that whole week i avoided them at all costs, which wasn't hard cuz growing up in SLO there was like maybe 6 in the whole city.

tuesday rolled around and i took my seat in that stiff wicker chair and awaited my instructions.

...(cue soothing therapist voice) 'so, holly, after what we talked about last week i was thinking it would be a good idea to discuss some solutions to your fear of riding in elevators. (pause for effect) i don't know if you know this, but (drum roll) all elevators have inside them a certificate of inspection. its standard, and once you step inside (hello that's the problem biaatch) you can always read the certificate to insure that it has been properly inspected and cleared for use by a certified elevator inspector. finding this paper in the elevator will allow you to have the peace of mind knowing that nothing will go wrong on your short ride to the second floor (big smile)'

really? is someone really paying you for this? cuz that advice seriously sucked.

the happy ending (no thanks to her) is that i'm now 30 and have overcome my fear of elevators. this may or may not be because i grew up and married a a man who is an engineer, then birthed his son who is apparently wired just like him and has enabled me to spend countless hours in elevators cuz that's pretty much his favorite thing to do. whatever the case, these days there's no elevator to small, shaky or tall for me. i'm happy to say i am more than a conqueror... with no thanks to some shady, wrinkly notice of inspection.

with that said, this week i want to know...

'what fear have you outgrown?'

matthew patrick

2010-05-03T04:53:00.000-07:00

i've always wanted a big family.

the bulk of my childhood was just me and my mom. i know God makes no mistakes, and the time we had together truly was priceless. my mom and i have a bond and an intimacy like very few. its something that sustains and encourages me on a daily basis, and for that i am eternally grateful. however i can't help but wonder sometimes what it would have been like if my parents had stayed married and i got to re-capture those formative years with a sibling...

not just any sibling, but my only sibling...

my brother matt is seven years older than me. when our parents divorced, i was eight and matt was fifteen. he went to live with my dad and i stayed with my mom. but regardless of the divorce, our age difference was so vast that we never really stood a chance to connect in our youth anyway. while he was shaving his head and 'cruising for chicks' i was playing with care bears and kittens, and as he smoked his first joint, i got to drink my first soda pop. his idea of bonding was a solid punch in the arm or flicking boogers at me. in its plainest form, i had nothing to offer. and honestly, with the age and gender gap, i wasn't even sure what to think or do with him. and then before i knew it, he left SLO all together and what little contact we had pretty much vanished.

with that said, i do have quite a few memories of him in those years. matt has always pushed the limits... whether its playing with matches one to many times and lighting our whole backyard on fire, or taking me for rides on his motorcycle with no helmet...

if i had to sum it up, my brother was cool.

not like jonas brother's cool, but like john bender from breakfast club cool. he played hard, and partied even harder. after he left SLO i know very little about his years in colorado and florida. the few stories i have heard, don't even rival me on my wildest night.

however, time has a way of giving us back what we lost, cuz after 2 pitiful years at UCSC i came back to SLO and moved into a little house on church street with my mom. not 2 months later my brother landed back home in one piece ready to get his s*it together. he began his academic journey at cuesta. even though it took him a little bit longer than some of us to get back to school, once he did take the plunge, he really found his calling-- a calling that has landed him his own incredibly successful consulting firm at the young age of 35.

our time on church street really allowed us to get re-acquainted. it was an incredibly formative time for myself as i was exiting a grueling 3 yr relationship with my high school boyfriend and trying to find myself again. it wasn't long before i quit pinching from his stash and turned in the ol peace pipe for a bible. i'm sure it was incredibly confusing for him to watch what little ground we had gained be lost in his mind, as i launched into a world he knew little about.

as our time on church street ended and matt made his way to the heart of the redwoods to finish his schooling, the distance came upon us again. this time not due to age or gender, but simply due to proximity. now adults, we talked on the phone every so often, but it wasn't until he got married and had his first child that i feel like things really changed.

my brother scored. he married an amazing woman. someone who is able and willingly to love him un-conditionally... and if that wasn't enough god gave them an absolutely delightful little girl. since my sister in law is a teacher and my brother's consulting firms season is the summer, it enabled him to be almost a full-time stay at home dad. with him being at home, he began calling me all the time. it was awesome. we'd talk about everything... parenting, god, marriage, drugs-- nothing was off limits. i felt like we connected on a whole new level, and an intimacy was forged between us that i know cannot be altered.

in this time i got to know my brother again. there really is so much to love. the guy is first of all hilarious- like most of us on the richmond side. b always trips out on how weird and funny we all are when we get together. but like his funny side, matt has a real sensitive side as well. we often joke that he's like mom and i'm like our dad. quick example- when the swine flu hysteria hit, both of them bought their masks on the first day and stocked their pantry's for the impending epidemic, while my dad and i sat back and watched the hysteria die. matt was the first person to ever tell me why i should eat organic, and why i should care about the earth. he's not just green like trader joe's or new frontiers, he's green like food co-op's and bags of weird herbs (yes that one too) and grains. recently when he came to visit he was taking shots of clay every morning. yes clay, like in pottery class clay people. he was the first to tell me about pork parasites and the mucoid plaque, and the first to love me enough to tell my why all of this matters and not just shout it in my face.

as my kids get older, i finally get to see their small age gap working in my favor... though they fight like banchi's, they love just as hard. i see lily guiding and encouraging oz, and i see oz helping lily to break away from her dolls and polly pockets and cut loose with thomas or crash monster trucks together. the other day i was wasting copious amounts of time ~~on fb~~ paying bills and i heard lily and oz in their room playing trains. it was so sweet to hear their little imaginative train voices as they created scenarios on the island of sodor. i felt such a longing, and just a twinge of envy as i realized that i missed so many years of that with my own brother. but then i remembered that god heals us in time, and now i have in a brother more than i ever could have imagined...

so on your 38th birthday matt, i want you to know, i love you more than ever. and i am so thankful that God gave me you as my one and only sibling.

boom, splat, spray

2010-04-27T09:18:00.000-07:00

so i thought i'd try and lighten things up a bit this week. i guess i'm trying to get back to what i think i do best... embarrassing myself. thanks to last weeks post, i feel like you guys have a pretty good insight into my soul and innermost being.

this week...

welcome to my bowels.

your welcome.

now, you may just want to stop reading if you are easily offended by words such as hemorrhoid, diarrhea, fissure, IBS, constipation, or assquake...

cuz this juicy (no pun intended) post has it all.

if you know me at all, you know i got issues downstairs. i'll spare you the gritty details, but the long and the short of it is ever since three rabid badgers came tearing out of my area, things have never really been the same.

there are times, like a lot of you when things are easy peazy downstairs. no need for sitz bath's or miralax, or copious amounts of tums. you might call them good days... for me they are the glory days. however, more than ever, those glory days have become more and more rare as my body has been in full rebellion... making me a slave to the porcelain throne.

we've all had our times, you know the ones... on an airplane, in your wetsuit, or stuck in traffic. its like all of the sudden it literally feels like gremlins are multiplying in your stomach and you seize up knowing that something similar to that green slime on nickelodeon is about to come shrieking out of your booty. your hands start sweating, your armpits are instantly wet... your mouth is dry, dizziness starts to overcome you. you feel a craving for relief like no heroin addict ever knew. you need to get your badonkadonk on the toilet ASAP.

a friend of mine told me the story of her boss who was on a quick commuter flight with no bathroom to a business meeting. the trots came like the rushing wind and he had no choice but to literally diarrhea his pants. did i mention it was a day trip? no change of clothes handy... just your prospective clients waiting for you at the airport. cuz nothing says, 'i got my sh*t together' like my khaki's are full of green apple nasties!

as much as i'd like to claim that one as my own, mines not nearly as glamorous. it began with your basic day trip to santa barbara. it was me, b, lils and oz. i was about 6 months pregnant with tali. me and b were talking casually when all of the sudden the whistle belly thumps began, my stomach started churning, and i knew that i had exactly 47 seconds till colon blow. there was no time for finding a starbucks bathroom, or even a dingy hole in the wall gas station... we're talking straight pull this mother over and get me to the side of the road. NOW. fortunately for all of us, we were in that dead area between santa maria and orcutt. so b maneuvered to an exit, where i literally opened the car door and copped a squat with only the car door as my shield. no time to find bushes, or wrap a towel around me. full blown highway 101 dooce. b starts cracking up, the kids are asking incessantly if i'm okay, but for me, i honestly never felt so happy. relief in its purest form. i grabbed a kirkland wipe, dug a little hole for the wipe and hopped back in the van with a smile on my face. it wasn't till we had turned around and were heading back to the freeway that i saw some sort of 'work crew' basically just south of where i took care of biz... for a second i was mortified. then i just laughed realizing these guys prolly hadn't seen a naked booty in years, and i knew i'd never see them again... so in a lot of ways, it really was a win - win.

so after that full disclosure and waaaay more detail than you could've wanted, please, do tell...

"where's the worst place you've had to relieve yourself?"

oh, and don't try and cop out with some measly pee in the alley story. i want the pee out your a** story!

why i love jesus. really.

2010-04-20T07:32:00.000-07:00

blogs can be a funny thing.

sometimes i need to be reminded of why i started one in the first place.

i really, really love to write.

i also really love to make people laugh.

and also, i just really love people.

ever since i can remember my dream job has been to be a writer for SNL. sitting around a room, one upping each other, creating genius material, eating junky snacks and being around people that are way funnier than me. but for now, 30 rockefellar plaza will have to wait, cuz i'm to busy preparing homemade organic baby food for my 6 month old and homeschooling my older kids.

(for those readers who don't know me that well, nothing about that previous sentence is true).

which leads me to this latest rant.

those readers.

i might be talking about you. here's the thing. i like to think i have a pretty good idea who reads my blog. my family, most of my close friends, some acquaintances, and the odd internet blog stalker. just kidding. about the stalker part. not really, cuz how else would you find this? in any event, every once in awhile i'll run into someone i haven't seen in awhile, or get an email from someone i don't really know telling me how much they enjoy my stories and horrible grammar. i recognize that a big part of having a blog is opening yourself up to not just those closest to you, but to people you don't even know. so, for those of you that are new to my blog, here's a bit about the biggest part of me. and if you have been reading for awhile and didn't know this... i guess its a good reminder for the both of us.

i am a christian. not like someone who goes to church cuz its good for me, or talks loosely about faith and love, but a christian... like the real deal. you might even use the words born again... shriek!!!

i became a christian when i was 21 years old. without telling you the whole story, it was something that when i found it, i realized i had been looking for it my entire life. i knew christians in high school, but was pretty sure they weren't for me. i spent the first part of my college years reading self-help books, pondering buddhism, researching deepak chopra, re-visiting a course in miracles, but nothing ever seemed to stick. i'm not tryin to hate, it just wasn't for me. the way i became a christian wasn't by yet another book, it wasn't by some life crisis or painful event. it was simply by seeing another person's life and realizing she had something i wanted, and it wasn't tattoos. everything about her life screamed jesus, but her approach was so not abrasive. honestly, she just loved me, and listened to me and then one day invited me to church.

after i made the plunge and started to really take a look at my life, i realized in order to get my shiz together i needed to start looking at my influences. i begin to break away from those closest to me-- friends i had known my entire life. i often joke that to my high school friends me becoming a christian was more scandalous than me starting to smoke crack. the gossip about my new found faith was that juicy.

i'm not saying i didn't give them reasons to talk, for with all new things comes a certain zealousness. for me, that included moving to the UK to be a missionary (loosely termed) my first year of marriage. i wasn't trying to push my old friends away, or rid myself of everything i once held dear, it simply became a time that took extremes to rid extremes (in my case certain self-destructive behaviours).

without sounding to 'christianese' i really had a lot of ~~shit~~ sin in my life and was feeling super helpless to overcome it. the things i was involved in may seem harmless to most, but the reality was, i was experiencing a lot of guilt and shame. and to complicate things further, those around me were living the same way, so i felt suffocated and often justified in my behaviours. the long and the short of it was i was not happy. i had more pain and sadness in my life from my lifestyle than i wanted. sounds cheesy, but i really said to myself 'there must be more to life than this.'

as i mentioned before, when i experienced God for the first time, i knew it was exactly what i had been looking for my entire life. some may say its what we were created for, others not so much. i can only speak for myself, but i felt such an intimacy with God that i really, honestly just wanted to get to know him more. i spent a lot of time with like minded people, read my bible, went to church, etc. it was really an amazing time in my life, a time where i felt like i was really able to build a solid foundation in God that would sustain me for most of my life.

then i got married, had a few kids, and even though i felt like things were cool with me and j-town, i knew i was not living the intimacy i once relished in. i felt satisfied by the love from my husband and kids and the simple joys in life. there have been surges over the years to try and get back to that place, and try as i might, i just can't. that time in my life was filled with lots of time... and little responsibility.

though my 'faith' looks different than it did 10 years ago, i have NEVER doubted how real God is in my life, and in those around me. i've seen Him in the tears streaming down my husband's face as he lifted my veil, i heard Him when my firstborn came screeching out, and i've even felt Him as i sat with my best friend and cried tears for the loss of her mom. the thing is, God feels just as real and relevant to me today as he did so many years back, it just may look a little different.

though some parts of me waiver in the 'christian rules' sense of the word... i mean i voted no on prop 8, i've been known to drop the f-bomb on this blog, bitch is one of my most favorite words, i love me a ~~few~~ good vodka tonic with lime, and i like to get dirty with a little T.I., but the truth is i really, really love God... and i don't want anyone to think differently.

today as i sang in church one of my favorite songs, 'into marvelous light i'm running, out of darkness out of shame, by the cross you are the truth you are the way,' i was reminded again how real God is, and how it really truly is because of HIM that i really love my life.
i feel a freedom these days like i've never known, not to sin recklessly, but to love. to love the way jesus did. when you read the bible its crazy how often jesus did exactly the opposite of ~~fox news~~ what the religious right of the time thought he should. he really loved everyone, in every circumstance. at the end of my life do i want to look back and say, 'well, i followed all the rules and worked hard to never blow it' or do i want to look back and say, 'yeah, i really blew it. a lot. but i loved hard and played hard. and life was good, and God, you were why.'

hugs not fists

2010-04-13T07:50:00.000-07:00

hey y'all, just a quick exhortation (big word huh?) to let you know how encouraged i am by all your comments. nice to know you all are really like me, as in you like to talk about yourself.... i know i'm asking you too, but you get the gist. with that said, i want to tell you a little story about a time when someone didn't like me so much....

picture it, laguna junior high 1992. me awkwardly skinny, just pushing 90 lbs. thanks to my last post you have a pretty good mental image of what kind of clothes to expect me in, its a wonder that a boy would even have been interested in me. yet, enter jared bonkowski. jared was one of those fringe types, definitely not a 'soc' but not a nerd, quite possibly in a band (not the school one). with his ponytail and camel light's stolen from his mom, he had a lot to offer for junior high. so we held hands a couple of times, passed a few notes and possibly kissed once or twice behind the portable math buildings. then one monday i came to school and saw none other than my bf holding hands with the dreaded helena quintanar. now, if the name doesn't give it away, i don't know what else will. the whole quintanar family was a force to be reckoned with, with 2 older brothers in and out of juvie, helena was following in their footsteps. she was pretty much the only girl at laguna that had ever been in a fight. i later found out that she had ties to BWA and would talk about getting 'jumped in.' she was one scary tween to say the least. so naturally, when i saw jared with her i knew our time was over and not one bit of me wanted to fight in any way shape or form for him. in fact, i was hoping that she never even knew he had liked me.

fast froward to thursday night. my friend and i decided to head down to farmers market. the last 4 days had been status quo, no rumblings of anything to do with helena or jared and like i said, that was fine by me. so there we are out in front of the cigar shop, probably trying to find a way to buy some nasty cherry tobacco to smoke out of my friends dads cigar pipe... when up walk four of helena's closest cholas. when i saw them approach, my heart started pounding. i knew they were there for me.

as casually as can be, one stepped forward and said, 'hey holly, hey just so you know... helena's looking for you.'

i froze, speechless as they left laughing.

'oh shit!' i said as i turned to my friend. 'what am i going to do?!"

she, like the good friend she was, said- 'lets just keep walking, your going to have to face her sooner or later, you might as well do it when there are lots of people around.'

so off we went, heading up higuera, it wasn't two minutes later that i saw her.

she had on white jeans and red top with her huge raiders bomber over it. her hair was tied back with a black bandanna. her lips were bright red, contrasting her big silver hoop earrings.

as soon as i saw her, i seriously thought i was going to throw up. i have never been as scared as i was right then.

she looked up and saw me. i froze right there in the middle of higuera. she kept walking toward me with a smirk on her face. she got 2 feet in front of me and said with all the authority in the world, 'hey, i been looking for you.'

looking back there's a million things i could have said... in fact i've often rehearsed the scene... i could've been snotty, confident, apologetic or i like to imagine myself just hitting her in the face (just kidding, not really).

but instead, it turns out i did the exact right thing.

i started to cry. real tears.

she looked at me confused, then her face change. it became soft and sweet. she reached out to hug me, and said, 'hey, its okay. its fine. i wasn't gonna hurt you.' and there i was letting the scariest vata in SLO county hold me in the middle of farmers market.

and that's the story of the biggest, baddest, scariest fight i have ever been.

and so with that long, detailed introduction, i wanna know this tuesday...

'have you ever been in a physical fight?'

what not to wear

2010-04-06T06:18:00.000-07:00

i guess it all began a few weeks back when i went to grab a jacket out of my closet. as i was heading out the door i realized i had grabbed a blue abercrombie and fitch sweatshirt. on my 15 min drive to the kids preschool i kept looking over at the sweatshirt. thoughts like, 'you're 30, can you really still wear that?' or 'do i look like one of those mom/ladies that is trying to hard to look young?' you know the ones- they wear a lot of animal print and camo? man, i'm getting old. i would never have thought this one little sweatshirt would have sent me into such a tailspin.

i know this may come as a shock to most of you, but i've never been on the cutting edge of fashion. when all my friends were rocking their wet seal body suits, i opted for my cats the musical sweatshirt, cuz nothing says cool in jr high like andrew lloyd weber. now don't get me wrong, i desperately wanted to snap on my unitard and show off my mosquito bites to all those jr high boys, yet apparently ~~genetics~~ god had a different plan.

after my friends convinced me that broadway musical attire was getting me nowhere, i tried to start paying more attention to what those around me were wearing. but since my mom didn't care at all what i wore, and i just didn't have the ~~boobs~~ body to wear what my friends were, i spent most of high school in argile sweaters, baggy jeans and old thrift store t-shirts with logos like, 'i got crabs in morro bay, ca.' don't be jealous....

it probably wasn't till college and my early twenties that i finally began to come into my own. i realized the body god had given me wasn't nearly as dreadful as i had once perceived and that most of the fashion industry really did make clothes that would fit me. i discovered aber and got in touch with my inner teeny bop that missed the window on those clothes so many years ago, then SLO got a gap, and things were looking up.

before i knew it i was 25 and my first child was born. a year and a half later another. it seemed like overnight i found myself more excited to see what was new at baby gap than on a store wide sale at banana. and then seriously, one day i woke up and i was 30.

who knew that harmless little blue aber sweatshirt would make me so crazy. i began to question everything i was wearing. it didn't help that i had a bacherollete party coming up. suddenly i was a mess thinking how i could razzle and dazzle the regulars at native (slo's hottest nightclub hee hee) yet also present myself as a classy mother of 3. as i perused my closet by the dim light of a wall nightlight (because the baby was sleeping in our room) i realized that i had very few dresses that were going to work. don't even get me started on shoes...

anyway as i tiptoed into the bathroom to put on some makeup (practically in the dark) and definitely totally silent (no kesha to get me pumped up) cuz i didn't want to wake the kids sleeping in the next room, i finally realized, i am old. getting ready in the dark, in silence, and by yourself at the time i usually go to bed, officially equals you are now 30. the real kicker was hitting the dance floor and realizing that the only new dance moves i had from the last decade were ones i picked up from watching ellen.

yet sunday when i woke up to a nursing baby and a naked 32 3 year old in my bed, i realized i'm not that old, i'm just a mom. i just need to figure out how to start dressing like one. i wish i could tell you i suddenly had an epiphany or a knock at the door from clinton and stacy... but unfortunately i still don't really know what it all means, cuz monday when my mom and i left for farmers market she grabbed a sweatshirt. it wasn't till we were on the grass hanging with the other moms that i realized low and behold, she was ROCKING the blue aber sweatshirt.

so i guess from all of this, the only thing i've really learned is for me, aber is definitely out, for my mom, maybe not so much. oh, and bodysuits, i'm about to show all you middle school hussies how a lactating mother of three's still got it.

tuesday comes fast

2010-03-30T07:59:00.000-07:00

gosh, just when i think i'm gonna have time to write a little somethin somethin, its tuesday again.

oh well. i'll admit its been pretty fun for me to check the ol blog everyday to see what clever fun stuff you guys got for me. after last weeks massively successful question, i feel a bit nervous to try and top it... i was soooo loving all your guys' answers. it was especially fun to hear from some of you who never comment, even if it was about poop, diarrhea or ahem, size... of course i was also loving roxanne weighing in with 30+ years of experience. thanks again y'all. even though all you guys -- don't pretend like you aren't out there-- were to chicken to comment, the rest of you definitely made me smile.

so with that said, i'm reaching my hot little hand into that clever little box and here's what i got....

'should we have a national healthcare system?'

oops! now that we know as clever as this little box is, it does not tell the future...so lucky for you, you get a hall pass on that dreadfully ~~boring~~ heated subject.

because i want to help you conserve your energy for what really matters this week (easter) i'll give you one that has some choices. again, feel free to answer why, or in a lot of your cases, which one you've actually done and how it turned out for you.

'would it be worse to discover your teen had thrown a kegger in your house, slept with her boyfriend in your bed, or wrecked your car?'

remember this tickle?

2010-03-23T07:43:00.000-07:00

so i'm feeling like our introductory week of tickled to meet you tuesdays worked out pretty good. thanks again for making me feel like i'm not ranting to an empty screen.

this week, i'm already breaking the mold. i'm not even going to reach into that clever little box i didn't invent to blow your minds with some heart wrenching question. instead, i actually came up with this one on my own. its something i'm really excited about and honestly would love it to be something bigger someday.

with that said, some of you may remember a mere 2 posts ago where i gave tribute to my man. with all these kids running around, i often forget my baby daddy. even though i didn't get a huge response comment wise (surprise surprise) i did have a lot of people tell or email how much they appreciated it. though the vast majority were women, surprisingly a few of them were men.

as mothers, i feel like we often forget how much we love romance. after 10 years of being married, kids, work, finances it quickly falls to the back burner. but whether its because you watched cinderella for the first time with your 3 yr old daughter and saw that glimmer in her eyes, or you started reading twilight- we remember, that try as we might to suppress or forget it, we love to be wooed, we love to be romanced, we love to be wanted, and mostly, we love to be loved.

so with that said, i really want to know...

what was one main thing that made you fall in love with your husband/wife/partner so many years ago?

feel free to make it long or short.... you might be surprised at how fun it is to access those memories you've long since thought of. oh and guys (i know some of you are reading)- i'm not making any promises, but if you weigh in-- you just might get ~~laid tonight~~ your favorite home-cooked meal.

tickled to meet you tuesdays

2010-03-16T04:59:00.000-07:00

in a vain attempt to ~~try and get more comments~~ hear from my readers, i thought i'd try something new. those of you who have been around a while may remember my fleeting affair with 'would you rather thursdays.' we had a lot of fun, didn't we? tackling some of life's biggest questions... i felt like i really got to know and love you guys...

since i'm fresh out of would you rather juice, i'm gonna take another route in order to ~~whore myself out for validation~~ get to know you guys again. enter, tickled to meet you tuesdays.

for christmas i received a lovely gift from one of the most special people in the world to me... it was this *clever little box* with lots of questions to help make any already awkward situation even awkwarder (cuz that is a word).

sooo, i've randomly selected a question for you and would love to hear your answers. the irony is that the first question i pulled was, 'what extent have you gone to when you had a crush on a celebrity?' since most of you have painfully humiliated yourselves by commenting on my last post, i'm pretty sure no one else has anything else to say in the matter. ahem. rob. ahem. pattinson.

moving on. i present you with...

'what would be one good thing about being the opposite sex?'

oh, and please brace yourself for my husband's answer... it seriously took him all of about 3 seconds to answer.

*this is my veiled attempt to make sure everyone know's these questions are not original. but i thought if i just put asterisks and write really, really tiny you won't read this and realize that i'm really not that clever or funny and didn't come up with most, i mean all of these questions. now forget what you just read and keep thinking i'm funny. thank you.*

an open letter to stephenie meyer

2010-03-02T09:23:00.000-08:00

dear ~~homewrecker~~ mrs. meyer,

on a dare, and after some serious peer pressure, i conceded to read your first masterpiece. i had some time in between reading 'real books' for my book club, and a weekend in the snow- the combination of the two events made everyone i know convince me i had to give your vampires a try.
upon arrival at the cabin, i tried to resist you. but there you were laying so casually on the table beckoning me with your sleek black cover and shiny red apple. who do you think you are? the wicked queen from snow white?

did i mention this was my kids first trip to the snow when they would be cognisant enough to feel, experience and actually remember? did i want them to think back on their FIRST trip to the snow and wonder why their mom was hiding in the van hovering over a book written for tweens? i even brought a real book along-- on adoption-- on something that really matters... only to kid myself. i feel sorry for you that you make people skip books on adoption to read about boys with golden eyes and large white hands.
it wasn't enough that i was avoiding my inlaws, kids and husband, you wanted more. you got in my head, and tried to compromise my usual stellar judgement. you made me start asking myself things like, 'i can't remember, is it rude to read at the dinner table?' or 'would it be super awkward to ask my mother in law to run to the store and buy some formula for the baby so i could stay up all night and read this ~~masterpiece~~ load of crap?' but i'm pretty sure i hit rock bottom when i was basically drinking strawberry hill (rose wine) and cowering in the corner while everyone frolicked in the snow.

like the sweet, and trying to be understanding family they are, they had to ask me what it was that was so great about these books. which is kind of the worst question ever. how do you answer that one steph? its kindof impossible huh? cuz no matter what you say, you sound like a total douche. you start stammering, wondering how you can make them deeper and more meaningful than the stark reality that we are really just reading a 'dumbed down' version of danielle steel (which btw no one knew was possible)

your're a family girl, right stephenie? i wish i could tell you how much the kids loved the snow, and about all the adventures they went on, or the blast they had sledding and building snowman's... cuz i know you would appreciate it, but sadly i can't. instead, these few pictures will have to suffice. notice how i'm not in any of them? i'm starting to wonder if i was even there. thanks for ruining my weekend, and my life.

your biggest fan,

holly

PS- oh, and you bitch. perhaps the worst part about all of this is that i could have written these stupid books. my 5 year old prolly could have for that matter. i could've been a millionaire, not stuck trying to sling juice plus. you suck. unless you buy juice plus from me, or better yet, let me be your realtor. then maybe we'd be even. otherwise you owe me big time lady... and worse, you owe my kids, and millions others their mom back. how do you sleep at night?

nothin like some yellow snow

Capital B

2010-02-19T08:00:00.000-08:00

the shack, 2002

woolacombe, england 2003

mud bath, rotura, new zealand 2002

nothing says cool, like having your mid-drift showing

bay of islands, new zealand 2002

October 26, 2002

b shredding at sand dollar 2002

valnetines day york, england 2003

june 2009

i know i write about my kids. a lot.

after all, they consume about 95% of my thoughts-- leaving a small 5% for things like what i'm gonna cook for dinner, or how i can get a break from my kids...

sometimes the dog will get a shout-out, or my mom, the occasional friend, and once in a great while i'll mention my husband. well today i wanna make up for it. today, my man, brandon trevor rodgers turns 40, 32.

so how can i begin to tell the world- (all 9 of you who read this anyway) how lucky i am-- when i know the only present he wants involves a sentence with the words - install, exercise, pole, and bedroom? since that sounds as likely as it snowing in osos, my words will have to suffice.

having 3 kids in 4.5 years has, at times, left us more as roommates than the sultry lovers we once were... our days are devoted to food, diapers, clothes, trains and babies. the little time we do have for ourselves we spend half dozing on the couch. but then, just when i least expect, i'll catch a glimpse of why it is i fell so hard, so long ago for a tow-headed boy who worked at CCS.

a friend of mine asked me awhile back, 'would you rather have your husband be a good father or a good husband?' ten years ago, it was a no-brainer. good husband. i remember trying to be intentional about showing affection, or wondering what he would like best for dinner, or pining after him when he left for 2 weeks to go surfing in indo. i remember him bringing me flowers for no reason, or writing little cards or notes for me, or planning a romantic night out. i never could've imagined a day where i would rather have him rock the baby to sleep instead of cuddle me on the couch, or bring flowers home for his 4 yr old instead of me. i never thought seeing those gestures would seem more romantic than candles and dinner ever did....

i could go on and on about what an amazing father brandon is... from ALWAYS being the one to wake up with the kids, to never saying 'no' from the smallest will you change the babies diaper? to at the last minute, can i go get a drink with the girls and leave you with all 3 kids (for the record - if b wants a night away, i need like days to prepare, and even then, its likely with a disgruntled heart). its times like those, that i'm reminded that i got more than i deserved when i married brandon.

but even amidst those aspects of his character that i admire and adore, i see glimpses of a good man. from when i see him surfing the cayucos pier while the waves are scraping the bottom, to when he finished his ultra -marathon, to him getting his queer eye on and obsessing over what shade of yellow to paint the kitchen, to asking a stranger to hold their newborn baby. its times like those, i fall in love all over again.

though we've had some good times, we've come along way from smokin bowls in the cab of your white ford ranger or running around naked in big sur when we thought we were alone... i know neither of us can't help but recognize somewhere along the way, we got swooped up by grace... the fathers hand took ours, and took us --and gave us a life we never, ever could've a dreamed of.

i am so thankful i got to marry my very best friend...

so cheers to you b, on your 32nd, may you always know, you look like gold to me...