School Days

We’re in our first full week of school and quickly settling into a new daily rhythm. In addition to a few hours at 4K every afternoon, Z is also at a new daycare in the morning, and an after school program until we pick her up around 5ish. She’s been so great—excited and fearless. She told me she’s been making new friends everywhere (“even on the bus!”); but when asked to name them, she cannot. Its sweet how just being on the same playground with Z qualifies you as her friend. It’s a far cry from my early days of not uttering a word until the second grade!

The only downside to our new schedule is that she's still fighting against a slightly earlier bedtime. At the end of Z's very busy day, she is absolutely zonked and, unfortunately, its manifesting itself in some of the worst ways possible: hitting, screaming, spitting, throwing, and general misbehaviour. I hope some of this can be curbed by spending more quiet time at the end of the day with her, and I'm optimistic that she will settle down as the school year progresses (fingers crossed).  Until then, we'll cringe our way through the 6:30ish "witching hour" when our sweet Z turns into Nightmare Nelly.

As for myself, I’ve never ever been a morning person, but I’ve been waking up around 6:30 to delight in a blissfully calm hour before the rest of the house wakes. It’s amazing how much nicer the day comes to me after a couple of cups of coffee savored in a quiet morning. I hope it lasts as the days continue to grow shorter and cooler, and can I just say it again: I love autumn!

Inspiration : 0911

I love autumn. That is all.

Happy New Year

It may be a little early for some, but I love fall so much that we’re starting early on the circle. Especially since Z will be entering 4K in a few weeks and we’ve been busy preparing and literally counting down the days. I’ve always loved school and remember the excitement of entering a new classroom with sharp crayons and clean notebooks; the broad idealism that accompanies a new semester in a new grade.

Perhaps it’s the academic in me but Labor Day has always felt like a more appropriate place to begin a New Year, New Start campaign. Z’s September not only brings school, but also a new morning daycare and after school program; her days will be completely different from what she’s known since she was 2 years old. I’m a little nervous, but also really excited for her to begin this new chapter. She's so ready and I know she's going to love it and do well.

I've had a bit of a rough year thus far and am hoping that the last quarter is a little less...hard. I'm trying to get better organized and stop putting my own health in the last open slot. Somewhere along the way, I've also lost the abilty to inspire myself. So the plan is to quietly take one step at a time and enjoy whatever viewpoint it offers me before moving on. That way, my journey is filled with little moments of joyful discoveries and there's no pressure to rush to the top. Sounds pretty elementary, doesn't it?

On Princesses

There’s an interesting dialogue occurring between mothers of young girls, partially precipitated by Peggy’s Orenstein’s book Cinderella Ate My Daughter: Dispatches from the Front Lines of the New Girlie-Girl Culture. I’ll admit I haven’t read the book so will refrain from discussing it in particular. And although I agree with Orenstein’s overall assertion that the “media machine” aimed at young girls is evil and that parents need to stay engaged and on top of what their daughters are doing….hasn’t this been the case for a long time? Disney Princesses and Barbie and the color pink are nothing new. Isn’t trying to find your own identity within a larger pop culture part of growing up? Don’t we all have to learn what to believe and what we ourselves hold true?

In fact, I grew up in the opposite side of the “girlie-girl” spectrum where I would have rather been dragon slaying Prince Phillip than sleeping beauty Princess Aurora. I didn’t play with Barbie, didn’t have a particular love of the color pink and I still struggle(d) with body image, depression, and whatever else life threw my way. For a long time I questioned whether slaying dragons precluded me from being pretty; whether I could ever love myself if I was wearing pink. But part of my struggle was based on a difficult relationship with my own mother. I don’t doubt that she loved me, but like a lot of mothers and daughters, we didn’t always agree on my choices and I think that informed me more than whether or not I believed in fairytales.

Enter Z, my own a girlie-girl who gleefully proclaims her love of all things pink in the middle of the princess aisle at Target. My reaction hasn’t been to pull her frantically in another direction, but rather to look and talk and eventually we move on to games and puzzles and books. As parents Casey and I try to limit her exposure to the media, but we’re realistic about it. We give her space to explore her own world and interests and, most importantly, we stay engaged to make sure that the messages she is receiving are positive ones.

Being a parent isn't easy. It's not sunshine and ponies and plopping your kid down in front of the TV and letting them absorb the world unfiltered. Z tests her limits every day, but ultimately, it’s more important to us that she knows right from wrong, that she is kind and generous, that she is confident and comfortable within herself. I don’t feel the need to agree with all of the sparkle and glitter with which she surrounds herself. But I do need to support her as a girl so that someday, as a woman, she will feel that she’s capable of slaying that dragon in the biggest, pinkest, fluffiest dress she can get her hands on.

Inspiration : 0711

When I start thinking about pulling boards together, I never really know where it's going to take me or what's going to end up here. It's an interesting process of collecting and editing; it's thinking about the best way to communicate a thought, a feeling, an idea in the most cohesive manner. Often I don't know what I'm trying to say until I'm finished. Ultimately, I have to let go of what's been weighing me down and coax a lightness that's been difficult to come by lately.

This board is very tactile for me: feathers and braids and scrunchy straw hats; simple, neutral and elegant with a shot of brilliant color. Perhaps the perfect metaphor for a glorious summer?  Happy July!

Confessions on Keeping Up

Once upon a time I had a job that expected me to look creatively professional and afforded me the time and income in which to do so. I’m a pretty simple girl so my efforts mostly involved getting a fabulously expensive haircut every 12 weeks and coordinating a lovely (albeit mostly black) wardrobe. I may not have been impeccably made-up and properly accessorized, but I felt pretty good about myself.

Enter 50 pounds of pregnancy that left me a beautiful baby girl, along with breasts and hips and 10 (on a good day) pounds that refuse to quit me. For four years now I’ve been waiting (im)patiently for my body to return to the days when size truly was not an issue because I could wear tops without brassieres and pull on pants without fear of the dreaded sausage thigh. Sometimes I look at the well-tailored relics of my old wardrobe and shed a little tear reminiscing about the days when we were so good together...*sigh. These days my wardrobe is mostly the kinda-fits cheap stuff bought on the overly optimistic idea that it will only be a few months until I’m back, baby!

I know it all sounds superficial, but me taking care of my appearance goes a long way in me taking care of my psyche. It’s been too easy these past years to slip on the old sweatpants and tell myself maybe *next* week I’ll bother to care. I’ve been excusing myself with being busy and broke and appearances don't matter… only I’ve also been feeling down and dumpy and downright shlumpy.

So what finally moved me? I know you’re going to scream at this confession (as I still do when I think about it), but it was…Kim Kardashian (don’t front like you don’t know who that is!).  I saw her on QVC as I was channel surfing and wowza, is she a lovely and curvaceous woman who obviously embraces her shape with aplomb. And I said to myself, “If Kim K can look that good, so can stumpy ole me.” And I promptly spent the uber-generous birthday monies from my in-laws on some beautiful stuff just for me and my thighs (no, I did not purchase whatever Kim K was shilling on QVC).

I am still trying to lose the extra pounds but the pressure's off.  I think the days of boy’s size medium are never coming back and, you know what, I’m finally okay with that. The thing I struggle with the most as a mom is to make sure the inadequacies I feel about my body do not translate to my daughter. So far Z has no problems looking in the mirror and saying “I look beautiful today,” and sometimes she tells me I look beautiful, too. Maybe it’s time I start to believe her, eh?

Inspiration : 0611

I used to have a huge corkboard in my home office that I'd fill with pictures of things that inspire me. It might be a color or a mood, something pretty or silly, something I might want or dream about having.  I'm a very visual person so seeing these images was a way for me to let my mind get out of the day-to-day and into a more creative space; and it was also a way to stay in touch with the larger design-world outside of myself.

Since our move the corkboard has been standing empty in the master bedroom, but even before that it's been a long while since I pulled images together, or did anything even remotely inspiring for that matter. So in an attempt to get myself back to a more creative space, I'm going to try to post inspiration boards here.

This one is about summer serenity and another reflection of where my head's at right now: easy, pretty and cool. What's inspiring you these days?

Joy and Pain

One of the best things about being a parent is hearing Z's easy laughter over the simple joys of life, like chasing bubbles on a sunny day. But these pictures from Easter serve as a good counterpoint for one of the worst things about being a parent: listening to 30 minute tantrums punctuated with pained calls for "mommmmm..." Tough days all around.

Restless Days

I don't know if its just that time of year or that time of life, but I've been so restless lately; feeling like there's more or other or something just...different that I'm lacking.

Maybe it's because I've always felt that I fell into this career, this job, this company. And given the choice...well, there aren't a lot of choices right now, are there? But my job is feeling more and more like a job and it's becoming overwhelming to keep up with the constant...sameness.

Maybe it's the stress of trying to sell our house in an extremely down market, and the stress of finances being stretched beyond, and the stress of being...displaced?  I do love the townhouse where we're living, but maybe because its not quite ours...because I would not have chosen these fixtures, these accessories, these details and sometimes just changing the toilet paper makes me miss all...our things.

Or maybe it's that four-years-old isn't any easier than three-years-old, and I've been a semi-single parent as Casey tries to work through a painful back or hip or whatever is hobbling him these days; but then again, I'd probably still be stalked in the shower whether or not dad was mobile. Z's incessant "mommmmm" just don't leave much time or energy for...what I don't even know.

And that's the crux of it. I don't know what to do or feel or want or...be. I'm just waiting for...something. I'll let you know when it gets here.

Z Vision

Downloading all these weird and wonderful images from Z's camera always makes me smile. I love seeing what she's been framing with her little pink camera...best gift ever!

I don't remember whether my parents ever encouraged or discouraged my creativity as I was growing up. But with four siblings, I suppose it was something they recognized would eventually find wings of its own no matter what they did or didn't do. While I'm much more engaged and encouraging of Z's ever blossoming imagination, I hope I will always give her the freedom to find her own expression.

But I'm totally going to be one of those mom's in the front row of every recital bursting with pride. And if those recitals happen to turn into science shows or the math olympics, so be it. Z mom is there! (Gah, I can hear it already... "oh, mom....")

P.S. In anticipation of Z's upcoming birthday, the blog's gone pink!