He spent the day with his Grandparents, Sunday, he and his little brother.
They played at the park, were spoiled at the store, and helped Grandpa build & create.
They both had a lot of fun… always do.
In the middle of his play date the phone rang here. My husband answered, it was my father-in-law… soon after, my husband called out for me, "phone".
It's Nicky…
I gave him a perplexed look and answered the call.
Hello?
Hi Mama.
Hi honey.
Silence.
Are you okay?
Yeah.
Silence.
How is your day going, Mama?
Good.
{i smile}
Love you, Mama.
Love you too honey.
Bye.
Bye.
#################
Last night my husband was gone working, so it was me and my lonesome holding down the fort.
After a long day getting lost downtown in route to a specialist appointment, blood work, and traffic on the way back, I just wanted to relax and be alone.
The baby went down easily.
My middle son fell asleep quickly.
Not my oldest, Nicky.
He was awake.
Wide.
The rain scared him.
The dark.
He wandered out to the living room where I was.
We finished watching Jason and Molly's Wedding together.
During the wedding I day dreamed about our vow renewal ceremony and what that would look like for us.
My husband and I have said we'll renew our vows on our 10th year wedding anniversary. It's 2 years away but fun to think about and dream about.
I thought about having my two older boys walk me down the aisle and my baby being the ring boy, or somehow part of the ceremony too.
During the show my boy and I began talking about "mommy and daddy getting married again" and what he'd like to see.
"Me and Zanie would walk you down the aisle and Dash would be with Daddy."
Sometimes I feel we share the same brain.
And always the same heart.
We had a "sleep over party" in the living room that night.
He on a special "bed" of blankets and pillows on the floor, me on the couch.
It was special.
Just like him.
Just like our relationship.
May it always be this sweet.
Filed under Deep, Family, Kids by . 19 Comments. 
I don't believe I've taken part in a writing challenge since highschool – and it was long over due – so here I am taking part in Stephanie's 'couch challenge'. Don't know what I'm talking about? Interested in writing with us? Click here to read about it.
The beginning of the challenge was the most difficult part. I started writing words – just a bunch of words – strewn into sentences. And as I got deeper into it, the theme of the writing grew all on its own. It wasn't forced, it happened naturally, and it felt good to let it 'just happen'.
Something Old, Something Plaid, Something Treasured
O
ld plaid love seat that rocks.
Hole in the arm where our Golden Retrieve, Hunter, ate it for lunch.
Given to us by our in-laws when we moved into this cozy little house of ours.
It's got a matching partner to the right of it, bigger and nicer than the love seat, but not as cozy.
In front of us is a large picture window that lets the faint starlight in, and casts shadows on the midnight floor.
I lay down on my right side, pillows perfectly placed under my head, blanket wrapping the both of us. My large, nursing Mother's breast exposed.
His small sweet baby head, filled with dark hair, attached to said breast, nursing as he falls asleep.
Rocking the love seat ever so gently, with the strength of my body, I breathe in the smells of the nursing baby and listen as another episode of Cheers plays on the screen in front of me.
Sounds of a peaceful baby, a creaking old love seat, and contentment drift in and out of my ears.
This moment in time, with this plaid couch holding me and my baby, carries all my hopes and dreams and love.
{i really did write this with pen and paper and in three minutes. it was difficult not to edit, re-edit, and then do a little bit more editing. took me outside my comfort zone and ended up being a whole lotta fun.}
Filed under Blog Stuff, Deep, Family by . 17 Comments.
Remember when you were a teenager, in love for the first time{s), and you'd wear your boyfriends jacket when he wasn't there so you could smell him?
Or you'd dab a bit of his cologne, or even just smell you clothes when you got home from a date, and remember him?
Please tell me that wasn't just me?
And you know, I still do that.
Yesterday I dabbed a bit of his cologne on my arm and each time I ran my fingers through my hair I'd smell him.
Sometimes I dream about him.
Often I look through older photographs, or home movies, and reminisce of how our love began.
It isn't always perfect.
Sometimes we fight or say hurtful things.
Occasionally we get annoyed with one another and want our space.
Ours isn't a fairy tale love story.
Who's is?
But it's good and real and fun.
He still floats my boat.
And I still excite his emotions.
Kids get in the way. Work gets in the way. Bills and stress and life, too.
But we always manage to find our way back to the foundation of our love for one another…
Friendship and laughter.
Ours isn't a perfect love, but it's a good and real love.
Filed under Deep, Marriage by . 11 Comments.
My breathing was labored.
My feet aching.
My ears burning from the cold wind that whipped through my long hair and past my hoodie.
Dodging cars traveling on their way home, I walked at a fast pace with my old man, Jackson.
{not my "old man" — my old dog man.}
Out of the corner of my eye I caught a glimpse of him.
He was all of 15 or 16, riding on a skate board, long black hair that looked as though it hadn't seen a shower in months.
I heard him coming up behind me.
I thought, "please pass me".
He didn't.
Walking right next to me, holding his board, he begins to talk with me as though we were best friends.
hi.
um, hi – i say nervously.
this is my new board. i've had it since christmas but still can't ride it very well.
oh, really.
{I'm walking a little faster now. I don't want to be bothered and he's making me uneasy.}
how long have you been skate boarding? i ask. did i really just ask him a question? did i just engage this boy that is kinda creeping me out?
about two years.
silence from us both.
we walk a few more feet. i'm looking ahead. or at my dog. or at the other neighbor coming towards us.
what kind of dog do you have?
a sheltie.
silence.
kinda like a mini collie in a way. he's 10.
Oh really? I have a dog. She's the best.
what kind? – i ask. maybe this kid is just a sweet kid who wants someone to talk to him, i think to myself.
bichon frise – i think. i don't really know how to say the name.
oh, those are cute dogs.
i slow my pace.
i look over at him.
suddenly he doesn't look so goth and dirty.
suddenly he looks like an innocent teenager just begging for someone to engage with him.
nice weather today.
yes, it is.
kind of chilly with the wind.
i smile at him.
i wonder to myself – do you know i'm 31? are you really interested in talking to an "old" person?
where do you live? on this street? i ask, because i'd never noticed him before.
yea. well, up at the top. this is just a long street.
he turns to walk in the grass…
well, it was nice talking to you.
you too, i say.
and i meant it.
i walked away feeling terrible about myself but good about humanity.
terrible because i judged this boy before i got to know him.
all i thought about was gun toting, bad attitude, mad at the world goth type boys that have a chip on their shoulder the size of texas.
do i know any people like this?
no.
have i ever?
not really. just stereotypes you see in the news or on tv on rare occasion.
i judged him.
me!
i like to think i never judge.
or rarely.
but i did.
and he was just a sweet kid.
a nice kid.
a hungry kid.
i'm honored and humbled that i appeared open enough for this young man to approach me and start a conversation with me like he did.
and embarrassed with my initial reaction.
he taught me a lot about me.
opened my eyes to the stereo-types and fears that live somewhere deep in my mind.
to things i need to address.
i'll carry this encounter, that he'll not think twice about, for the rest of my life.
thank you stringy haired, skate board riding boy.
Filed under , Deep by . 11 Comments.
Thinking about this post, and the responses to it, I began searching my soul even more for what true beauty is. What *I* think beauty is.
What makes a woman beautiful and appealing?
- Wisdom
- Compassion
- Joy
- Selflessness
- Smarts
- The ability to laugh at herself
- A woman who can be, not only comfortable in her own skin, but own it and love it.
And gray hair.
I've got a few.
Do you?
I look at those hairs as a badge of my growth and maturity in life.
And right now, at this stage in my life, I'm not covering them up… nor do I want to. I actually find them quite beautiful and like to search them out in the mirror.
Gray hair – women who "rock" their grays – that is beauty to me.
Woman with gray hair always appear authentic and confident.
And those two qualities are beauty in my eyes.
{two ladies from my Mom's church}
{Paula Dean}
{Emmy Lou Harris}
In the coming days I'll be sharing more about my definition of {real} beauty.
What is yours?
Filed under Fashion, Talking by . 18 Comments.
The weather broke.
I saw robins today.
Greeted neighbors with a smile and friendly word about the beautiful weather.
Everyone seems so happy.
My dog walked with me. 10 years old and still going strong.
Geese flooded the little pond at the end of the neighborhood – their honks filled my ears and beckoned Jack to chase them.
It is all so so good.
But the best?
I'm physically able to get out and walk/jog again.
My body is still under an attack but it's winning the battle.
And the weather changing over can only help.
Filed under Show-Me-State Fun, Talking, running by . 9 Comments.
I was watching Oprah interview Jessica Simpson today about real beauty.
I was happy to see Jessica finally come out and accept an interview, talk about the "mom jean" controversy and some other things.
I blogged about her "mom jean" bashing and still believe that, although the jeans looked hideous, she didn't look overweight.
{not that being overweight should be the crime it has become.}
She also showed clips from her upcoming series {i plan to watch} about beauty around the world.
And after Lisa Ling's clip showing little {beautiful!} Chinese girls preferring the blond haired, blue eyed, big breasted Barbies to Chinese dolls it got me thinking about me.
I find Asian women to be insanely beautiful. Their long, thick jet black hair and beautiful almond shaped eyes and that skin… what isn't to love? They are exotic, to say the least, and perfect little noses. I've always found them so beautiful and if I could adopt a girl I would choose an Asian girl.
Yet many of them want to look like "western" women.
I thought about myself as a teen… even now, really. About how much I hated my looks. I hated my black hair, my white skin, my big nose.
It made me feel bad about myself when all these totally smoking hot, incredibly beautiful {by most people's standards} girls I worked with would get all the attention and looks from the boys.
I was totally insecure with my looks.
I didn't, and still don't, have the typical/standard good looks that some women have.
I've always been told my look is "different" and "unique".
And you know what I'd hear when people would say that?
ugly.
you.
are.
ugly.
…but I feel bad about telling you the truth, so I'll tell you something so that I don't have to be honest.
So I went from this…
To this…
Wanna know what?
guys loved it!
girls loved it.
everyone thought the "transformation" was great.
I turned heads. I turned hearts.
My eyes were happy when I'd look in the mirror.
I tanned a lot – too much.
I fried my hair with color and styling – but darned if I didn't look good.
And I felt good about myself.
Then I had kids.
I stopped fake baking.
I stopped coloring my hair.
My body never looked the same again.
And I turned back into that "before" picture, with long black hair – white skin – that just felt average.
But something happened with time and aging and maturity.
I grew into myself a little.
I began to see the beauty of my natural self.
There are things I'd change if I could.
My nose for one.
Still hate it. HATE it.
{don't lie and say my nose isn't big. i know it is. }
But now… now I look at my high cheek bones and see my Indian heritage.
I look at my dark, black hair and see my Great- Grandmother.
I look at my freckled {from the fake baking}, damaged skin and wish like heck that I wouldn't have sunned it as much as I did. I look back on my old pictures and now see how beautiful my creamy, white skin was. And I look at the skin I have now and wouldn't dream of baking it in the sun again.
I'm not totally there yet. Are we ever? Do we ever fully see the beauty of ourselves?
Yet, I have come a long way.
And now… now I look at pictures from my youth and recognized how pretty I really was.
Most importantly, I look at current pictures and accept that I have unique beauty — that "unique" doesn't mean "ugly".
Filed under Deep, Talking by . 35 Comments.
Jake {the bachelor} mentioned several times that he was himself with Vienna and I saw that during this season, too. He was silly and light hearted and seemed more comfortable in his skin around her. Though she wasn't my pick, I saw their connection and realness around each other.
{And seeing them on the 'after the final rose' show, I now think he made the right decision.}
Watching them together made me think of me and my husband.
I dated a few people before meeting my husband. And though there were special connections with those guys, something was always missing. I wasn't my true, authentic self with those boys like I am with my husband.
We were always so ourselves with each other, from the very beginning. I'm a super silly, light-hearted, funny, slightly sarcastic person and he not only brought those qualities/sides out in me, he shared those qualities too.
We've always been able to laugh and have a true friendship. Spending time with each other always lights our lives up. We are truly ourselves, and nothing else in the world matters when we're alone with one another.
I feel it's most important that, for a marriage to work, you have to be comfortable being yourself with your mate. And your mate must feel the same. And you both need to love who the other person is… their true self, their authentic self.
I'm so blessed that I have that with my husband.
I love him dearly.
For always.
And together we've created our silly little family.
I love that we're all silly together.
There's no tension.
Just laughter….mostly!
P.S.
It's a good thing my husband loves natural beauty because this is how I usually look — casual {the name of the blog and my twitter account really does fit me} and with no makeup {like here} or very little. We're both very low maintenance and it's so freeing! He loves me for me. For reals, people. *smile*
Filed under Deep, Family, Marriage by . 10 Comments.
He looks like how I've been feeling lately.
Spending special time with each of my boys brings about a smile to my entire being like I've almost forgotten about.
Each of them unique and special in their own ways.
Each of them enjoying different things and each of them bringing me a special kind of joy.
They need this alone time with their parents. They need the love that is allowed to be magnified when it's just you and him.
And I need it.
Want it.
Love it.
Love them.
Love this life with them.
They get so much from special time.
I get more.
Filed under Deep, Family, Kids by . 6 Comments.
{his pizza covered face got wiped approx. one full hour after dinner}
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{most nights you'll hear, "if you get up one more time i'm turning your ____ (tv, radio, lights) off." only i usually don't make good on my threats until about the 4th or 5th time.}
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{i get more pictures i cant use than pictures i can.}
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{you'll catch me watching t.v. more than i'd like to admit…}
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(he will be in the top 3…mark my words.)
{…when i should be spending more of my time reading these}
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{random thought: i'm not an ellen on AI fan. though i am typically an ellen fan.}
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{i don't mind washing and drying but i loathe folding!}
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{this is me tonight. i've got zits (!), no makeup and ugly PJs but you'd never know it by that extreme light. extreme lighting is my friend.}
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{my life in a teeny, tiny nutshell.}
.
.
my life in action below.
there's a lot of whining, volume and people in 'jammies'.
pretty typical of our life.
Filed under Family, Kids, Talking by . 8 Comments.
