bohemian season

The grand nursery plan

2012-01-27T08:31:00.000-06:00

I'm 31 weeks and the nursery is far from done, but I have a plan! If you've been following along, you'll know that I had a bajillion and one nursery ideas for a girl. But when I found out I was having a boy, it all started to settle in my mind.

The walls were already a shade of washed-out aqua. I thought about re-painting - tempting - but I decided to work with what I had. Especially when I saw this (crumpled) picture below in HGTV magazine. It became my inspiration!

The colors: Aqua, white, cream, gold (metallic), mocha, sand

The feel: Angel baby, or beachy baby or nature baby. Not too frou-frou, more minimalist, modern spa-like vibe. Not over-accessorized.

These pictures below aren't exactly right, but give you a sense of the colors and the general mood.

*via House Crush

*via House Beautiful

*via With Two Cats

Admittedly, it's not a hard-core masculine or kiddie theme. It's quite soft and baby-ish. But there will be time for him to be a little man later. I can always switch out the accessories and give it a shot of testosterone later. For now I want it to be my angel baby room. :-)

The crib: I'm using a modern white crib and going budget with the Gulliver crib at Ikea! Crib bedding will be simple (and safe) with solid crib sheets in shades of mocha, white, and cream and no crib bumpers or other decorative items.
The dresser: This mod Mandal dresser from Ikea will provide storage and double as a changing table/diaper station!
The rug: A white recycled t-shirt shag style rug from Crate and Barrel. Plush and full of texture.

The artwork: I've already purchased this gold LOVE print from Made By Girl. I also have a sunburst mirror. and a really cool painting I found at Goodwill. And I'd like to find more art that's beachy or surf-inspired!

Other accessories: I've bought curtains with a color and texture similar to burlap at World Market. For a little more razzle-dazzle, I've thought about adding a gold pouf from Nate Berkus. And in general I'm looking to nature for inspiration with things like seagrass baskets, cream, wool, white, wood, feathers, shells, etc.

In the baby stuff I'm buying, I'm looking for similar colors and feels so hopefully it will all mesh. We'll see how it looks when it comes together, which will probably be another month or so. Hopefully I can take some good pictures and share them here!

Lull

2012-01-24T08:57:00.000-06:00

*via Fudge magazine

Lull. I saw this word and it jumped out at me, because of the way it so connects to my life at this moment.

I am in a lull. I am quiet. I am living each day, day by day.

I have no splashy announcements. No opinionated pronouncements. No admirable projects. Not even the whimsical little here and theres of books read or movies seen or delicacies eaten.

I am quiet.

I know this is okay. Not to write anything in this bloggy-blog of mine except the random pregnancy post, yet I somehow feel the need to account for it. I would feel no need to account if it weren't for this blog, for this online world I half live in. And it's that element of the online world - the nagging sense that I should perpetually be in (interesting) motion - that sometimes makes me wonder if I should continue on blogging.

But for now I will just apologize for the lull and say you may see a little bit less of me for awhile as I go through this physical, mental, emotional and spiritual transition of the next few months.

Week 30

2012-01-19T18:31:00.001-06:00

There's me. In my favorite stretchy black pants.

How I'm feeling physically:
I have a litany of symptoms that don't make me miserable but contribute to a state of weirdness or discomfort. Pardon the TMI, but for those of you who are pregnant and wondering if any else has your ailment, I will be honest. I have occasional bouts with: Waking every hour to pee or change positions at night. Hip and back pain at night. Tailbone pain (probably sciatica). Nosebleeds. Heartburn. Constipation. Hemorrhoids. Tiredness. Nap urges. Breathlessness. Lower stamina. Braxton Hicks contractions.

While that sounds like quite a list, I'm doing okay! It's not day and night misery, but I definitely feel like instead of being my normal self with a bump, things have shifted.

How I'm feeling emotionally:
This shift of the last few weeks has taken me by surprise. I'm still mentally adjusting. I've also been feeling a return of the moodiness of the first trimester, which is why I'm blogging less. I don't feel high energy or motivated. I just want to curl up under the covers. But man, I better get some nesting energy soon, because I have so much to do!

Highlights:
My husband and I have narrowed down our list of prospective names to 3! I'm so excited! And no, I'm not telling anyone, anyone at all.

A couple of my friends are planning to throw baby showers for me and I feel so blessed and excited! Something to look forward to in the weeks to come.

I've received some classic insults from a male pregnancy meanie who I will fail to identify here. A few selections. "Wow. Even your face is getting round." Followed by "What have you been doing besides sitting around gaining weight?" And "Your front is almost as big as the back now." It's intriguing. I've only had one other person give me this kind of harassment and he was also male. I'm curious if this is a male chauvinist old-school thing.

I love that I met two friends for lunch last week and they said "You look great." Because here's the thing, whether I actually look great or not, I don't care. I just love that I have the kind of women friends who "get it", who know what I need and are so kind to encourage me.

Last week was a down spot for me. I failed my one hour Glucose Tolerance Test (a first level screening test for Gestational Diabetes). Which meant I had to take a 3 hour test - going into the lab in the morning on an empty stomach to drink a mega dose of sugar and then not eat anything for 3 hours, while they took my blood 4 times.

So after the nurse called me with the first test results, I cried. Then I called my mom and cried. Then when my husband came home from work I cried. I'd like to blame it on hormones, but it's not just that. I realized that when I go to the doctor, I feel tense, like they're about to tell me something's wrong OR I'm DOING something wrong. My recurring fear is that I've gained too much weight, and gestational diabetes can be related to that, so that pushed my buttons. I've developed a "pass-fail" relationship with the medical industry, as if they're a teacher giving me a grade. I have a fear of losing control to them, of them being an authority looking down their nose at me, that doesn't allow me to question or have free will. Some of my fears are rational, but others are illogical and I'm trying to sort through all that.

The good news is that I took my 3 hour glucose tolerance test today. I'd been dreading it. But I did it. And it wasn't as awful as I was afraid it would be. I came, I saw, I conquered! Now I'm just waiting for the results.

Happiness

2012-01-10T12:42:00.000-06:00

*via Jody McNary Photography

What makes you happy?

Is it big things? Big, shiny moments. Celebrations. Achievements.

Or things that are infinitesimally small? A smile. The smell of fresh baked bread. Raindrops hitting the roof at 1 am?

Or is it circumstantial? A dream job, a dream house, new car smell, jet-setting, a closet brimming over with pretty things?

Of course the word happiness might be misleading. There are other words for similar things that are not the same. Joy. Contentment. Satisfaction. Passion. Peace.

But I suppose what I mean is happiness. Happiness is always a fleeting thing. Sometimes nothing more than an instance of brain chemicals having a dance party for reasons beyond explanation. Understanding it is like trying to catch light in a jar.

Many books have been written about happiness from different angles. The 100 Simple Secrets of Happy People (an insightful book). And of course Gretchen Rubin's The Happiness Project (which I haven't read, but I read enough of her blog before the book came out!). And so many more. I have no secrets to share, but I've been thinking about happiness lately.

I don't think it's so much that I can conjure up happiness, force it to come, but I can create an environment where it is likely to make its appearance more often. I can cultivate a rich soil where seeds of happiness are more likely to flourish and pull out weeds that choke it out.

There are things that I think make me happy, but it turns out they really don't. Even though I keep thinking they will, trying them over and over again:

Buying something.
Watching movies or television.
Spending restless, wandering, or habitual time online.
Eating something sweet. (Yum)

And then there are things I know make me happy - or at least contribute to that fertile soil, an opening for a visitation of happiness - but still I don't do them - not on a consistent basis at least. These things don't always come naturally, but are ultimately very rewarding:

Exercise! (Exercise! Exercise!)
Spending time with people, making new friends - my inner introvert sometimes doesn't want to go out, even though I know it's good for me. And my inner "get things done" driver sometimes doesn't want to stop the progress train to go have quality time.
Tidiness around the home. Bed made. Clothes on hangers in closet, not in floor. Clutter away. Clean kitchen.
Writing. It's not hard once I get started and I enjoy it oh-so-much. But my ego has been struggling with it a bit lately, wondering why write if no one will ever read it? I don't know the answer. I only know that it's rewarding to me on a deep level.

With a new baby on the way, I struggled with the concept of New Year's Resolutions because I don't really know what this year will be like. What I most need is flexibility and grace, not a list of to dos.

But I have this vague sense of wanting to do less of those things that are happiness pretenders and a little more of those things that I know make me healthy and feel good, those things that I often put last.

What makes you happy? Any secrets to share?

Too good not to share - New Year edition

2012-01-06T08:35:00.000-06:00

Favorite things this week...

My 2012 Planner from Kitsch Kitchen. I bought it in Paris at Antoine et Lilie and it's so quirky and cute. I'm loving writing in to-dos and reminders for each day. It's making me feel more with it in this time of change.

Banana Bran muffins from The Pastry Queen. I'm addicted to these. When I run out I have to make a new batch to stock in the freezer. They're just so awfully good for a bran muffin.

This Paris plate by Natalie Lete, a Christmas present from my husband. I love the way it looks, but it also means so much to me, a lovely souvenir. The only problem? I now want to start a collection of Natalie Lete plates.

Raspberri Cupcakes. I probably wouldn't make any of these creative confections or concoctions, but gosh they're fun to look at.

*via Katie's Pencil Box

Katie's Pencil Box. The latest blog I've gotten stuck in, browsing back through past pages: Maybe because she's a redhead too. Maybe because she has pretty photos. And incredible funky style. It's the sort of photographic blog I fantasize about having in another life.

*via One Sheepish Girl

And then there is One Sheepish Girl. Brilliant name for a blog. And it's these kind of photos that simply but prettily capture the nesting things of life that I love, that I wish I could capture the way she does. I don't knit, but she makes me want to.

Happy New Year. Happy January. Happy Friday, friends!

Week 28 - Changes ahead

2012-01-04T22:46:00.000-06:00

Yep. The photos still aren't my thing. So I'm going with embracing my flaws for the moment. Headless photo it is.

28 weeks. For those of you who don't keep up with pregnancy math - and I don't blame you, friends - this means I've now officially entered the third trimester. I'm considered "full term" in 9 weeks and "due" in 12 weeks.

How I'm feeling physically:
I'm feeling the shift into the third trimester - these subtle shifts in my body. Sometimes oddly breathless in the morning, although just fine when I workout. Neeeed afternoon naps again. When sleep calls I can't resist. Heartburn afflicts me almost every night. Plus the occasional Braxton Hicks contraction, which seems to hit in the middle of the night. It's also harder to get up from the couch, sit up in the bath tub, or bend over to tie my shoes.

And I'm seeing it too. I don't realize how big I've gotten until I see a photo and then it's sort of a "holy cow" feeling. And I have a new friend. I call her Chinnie. She gives my neck some extra softness when I smile. Although she's an amusing guest and I'm trying to be a gracious hostess, I hope she'll be moving along after I have this baby.

How I'm feeling emotionally:
I'm also feeling the changes emotionally. Some return back to the first trimester, those days when I felt unaccountably moody, a lack of motivation, when I wanted to snuggle up inside, not go out all day, ignore the ringing phone, not blog. I don't like feeling this way. It doesn't feel like "me", but I know it's just something I have to ride out.

I'm also at the point where it feels like this pregnancy has passed so quickly. Even though it hasn't. I've been pregnant for half of 2011! But it's almost over and I feel a twinge of sadness at so much being behind me now. But that's life isn't it? The bitter and the sweet? How can I simultaneously be eager to meet baby and yet sad that time has flown by?

Highlights:

On Christmas morning the first present I opened was from my husband, a pair of baby shoes and socks. A simple little thing. But it made me cry. It was a small gesture, but one that reminded me that he's excited about this baby too. I still feel teary just writing this now.
Buying the car seat. I wasn't excited so much at the gear, as I was to cross one big thing off my list! So many things on my list still to be done.

Hindsight at the end of a year

2011-12-29T09:51:00.000-06:00

*via Widerbergs

I have a long habit of journaling, although it's not the tidiest habit. My entries are random. Sometimes dated, sometimes not. Deep thoughts and feelings mix with grocery and to-do lists and long-range plans and snippets of poetry and scribbled titles of songs or books I don't want to forget. So many of these notebooks find their way into my life that from time to time I need to cull them down into a manageable pile.

I was doing so recently and noticing the patterns. For years I've been writing down dreams, my vision of how I'd like my life to be, things I'd like to do, places to go, things to accomplish or experience. I have big dreams and little ones and recurring themes too. It seems to keep me focused, when I feel lost, to remind me of the core of myself, those unique things about me.

I felt a tingle down my back as I realized that two of my biggest dreams have happened in one year. Visiting Europe (in this case Paris, which was enough for me, for quite a long while) and of much more long term impact, becoming pregnant with my first child. I had boiled down my life's biggest dreams to a list of only 5 things and these were 2 of the 5! And it was such an amazing feeling to know that dreams really do (or can) come true.

I've spent years pining for these dreams. Well, pining is such a sorrowful word. But looking forward to, hoping for, planning for, waiting for and never quite sure if or when they would happen. And now, like some kind of sparkly dust magic, they finally appeared. But it wasn't sparkly dust magic, it was the work of years, the slow grinding wheels of time.

At times I've felt so impatient. Now! Now! I want it all now! And it didn't come. And it didn't come. Seeing that they did come, in time, gives me more of a hope for the future, realizing that while things might not unfold on a timeline I would have chosen, new and great things can be waiting somewhere out past the horizon. It reminds me how petty and childish my timelines and demands can be. It reminds me to stop and enjoy the nowness of now, the dream I'm in now, instead of always wanting to be in the next. But it also reminds me of the power of having dreams in the first place - setting my sights on something, big or small, and trudging forward to meet it, instead of waiting for it to find me.

I have been busy enjoying the dream that's unfolding right now and I think I should... But I don't want to forget to find new dreams too, when the space in my heart is ready for them.

I hope you're dreaming up big things for 2012...

Aspiration

2011-12-28T09:13:00.000-06:00

Better Homes and Gardens. I should have been warned by the magazine's title. It is not, after all, Contented Home and Gardens or Make Do Home and Gardens or Thrifty Home and Gardens or even Happy Home and Gardens. Better, being the key word. As if this is what we should all be striving to attain, as if what we have is not good enough, but in constant need of improvement. An attitude I regrettably already find myself possessing.

It really peeved me off as I flipped through January's skinny little issue. (Why do January editions of magazines have to be so flimsy, btw?) Sometimes I like the January magazines because they focus on getting organized. An obnoxious goal, but one I can't seem to let go of. But in this issue, the home decor articles featured people who somehow at the dubious age of mid-30 had neatly arrived at their brand new or newly remodeled dream home. And the "organization tips" seemed to be mostly centered around homes with lots of square footage, modern layouts, brand spanking new furniture, expensive remodels and built-in cabinetry - the sort of things I've seen in a multi-million dollar Parade of Homes tour. They give us average Janes something to dream about, but they're not obtainable in middle class homes or budgets.

These are all lovely things. Lovely. Really. For those who can afford them. And I don't knock those people or dislike them just because they can afford built-in custom storage. But let's get real here. It's the want of this crap, the expectation of it, the ache for it, that's bankrupted and impoverished many a middle-class American. (Rant alert!) And seeing it posited in a magazine as the "better home" we should be modeling our home after only feeds this problem.

As I fumed and thumbed through the magazine, the word that came to mind was "aspirational". And the truth is that most magazines (and many blogs for that matter) are aspirational. Fashion magazines want you to aspire to their trendy clothes and accessories. Health magazines want you to aspire to their skinny "role models". And so on, and so on. But I just seem to tune it out most of the time. Probably because I"m in a hypnotic state myself as I read them.

But gosh darn it I snapped awake this week and just got annoyed. It's lovely to dream from time to time of waking up in a Parade of Homes home. But if it starts to dwell inside of us as some kind of standard to aspire to, some kind of standard of perfectly organized, gorgeous lifestyle we should all be living, then it can eat you or your bank account alive. And that's not living. That's disease.

Guess it's time to cancel my subscription.

Peace and joy

2011-12-23T16:39:00.000-06:00

*via georgiapeachez

Merry Christmas to all of my online friends, and offline ones too.

For some of us the holidays are a time of ease, a time of celebration and joy, for some a time of nostalgia, for others a time of tears or disappointments. This is a joyful moment for me, but I well remember holidays tinged with sorrow too.

These high holy days are a mile marker. Another year. Another lap around the track. And whatever we're feeling is heightened. Sometimes we look back with regret. Or forward with fear. Sometimes we may not feel the merriment that stereotypical Christmas seems to represent. These are the feelings that sometimes get swept under the rug in the midst of Christmas cookies and mistletoe. But Christmas is for all of us. Not just the happy, but the sad, the real, the humble, the searchers, the yearners - not just the wise men, but the shepherds too.

If you are in the throes of joy, I wish you laughter, happy memories, and a heart of gratitude. And if you are wading through the dark shadows of winter, I wish you peace and the gentle comfort of firelight, and the hope of spring just around the corner.

26 weeks

2011-12-21T22:23:00.000-06:00

Me, playing with the camera. Sometimes I like the outtakes better. I'm 26 weeks tomorrow. So let's just call this my 26 weeks post.

How I'm feeling physically:
It's hard to complain. Other than some discomfort at night, heartburn when I eat spicy foods, and breathlessness that seems to strike at random times, I have no physical complaints. Still struggling with the feeling of getting huge, even though, objectively speaking, I think I'm normal. I went to my 24 week appointment and everything is A-OK.

How I'm feeling emotionally:
A bit restless lately in an in-between place. Still 14 weeks before my due date. Sometimes it seems like for-ever, so very far away, and then I have a sudden insight into how close it is and I think I shouldn't be so laid back and as I vacillate between those two perspectives, I'm not sure what to do with myself. Do I rush out and buy a crib next week? Do I clear out the garage? Or do I do something fun and escapist while I still can? I have visions of taking on the world and having everything in perfect order before the baby comes, but I have little motivation to get out and tackle the garage. I've also been missing writing. The books I've been getting from the library have been disappointing me and I find my mind wandering back to characters I've created.

I've also been struck lately by the "will I be a good enough parent" panic. I believe I'll be a good nurturer and caretaker to this little one, but I think about education, preparation for the real world, adulthood, emotional and character foundations - all those things that are challenges every human faces and I think about my little baby, wishing he could just leap right over them with super-human strength that I could somehow endow him with, that he wouldn't feel the pains common to humanity. The truth is, I have no super-human perfection to pass along. No one does. I have to just do the best I can, and watch and pray and hope and love as he grows.

Highlights:

My favorite is still the little moments, when baby gets super active. I love to feel him move around.
Chatting with one of my good friends about all those nagging things like baby feeding and sleeping techniques and philosophies.
Buying my diaper bag! I know. I am such a girl, okay? But it was a big deal to me. I spent hours looking around online before I found just the one I wanted. I debated on whether I wanted one that was super fun and screamed "diaper bag", but in the end I decided to go with one that could pass as a purse instead. I figure if I'm going to make a quick grocery store run, I can throw my wallet and keys into the diaper bag and still have all the baby stuff, but not look like I'm carrying a diaper bag. We'll see how all my little theories pan out in real life. ;-)

Weaving

2011-12-19T08:33:00.000-06:00

*via Aih

It's a chilly night in December. The sun's just been down an hour. And I'm sitting in the haze of white Christmas lights, eating cheese and crackers, dreaming of the next novel I want to write. I have already met the characters, have rough sketches of them in mind, although I suspect I don't know them nearly well enough yet, their contours and quirks. I have scenes in mind, fragments of the whole, pictures of moments I've dreamed of.

There is a piano teacher, a costume party, a spoiled daughter in her mother's red dress, a spring rain shower, an unexpected stranger on the back porch who isn't what he seems, a hovering auntie, an unhappy provision in a father's will, a secret stash of cigars in the stable, a scandalous appearance of a child, passive-aggressive embroidery, a confrontation at a train station, a walk by a creek and what I hope is an irresistibly unfolding love story.

All bits and pieces to be woven together.

It all sounds very Jo March, doesn't it? Ha! Perhaps I should stoke a winter fire, because I know how hard the weaving is. I'm not sure it's time, but I'm dreaming...

I've been missing writing lately. I've had a good long break from it, letting myself just "be" in this time of transition, but I've found something's missing, a little itch that won't go away.

Happy 2nd Birthday, little blog

2011-12-13T16:47:00.000-06:00

*via squeezeomatic

I've let my two year blogiversary come and go, ignored, like an unappreciated marriage, but much has happened in these two years, and it's been fun to have this place to capture it all.

A few highlights:

My nail polish collection now fills a big fishbowl in my house. My favorites were designing my own little color collections inspired by movies like Marie Antoinette and The Edge of Love!
I had a crazy dream.To be a writer. Published, that is. This was the moment of inspiration that started it all. The half-finished, misshapen novel that came out of this inspiration was awful. But I did get this lovely winter playlist out of it:
My Fresh Snow playlist. Have a listen!
I tried a lot of new things. One of them stuck. Crochet.
I wrestled with what it means to be a blogger and what I want to blog about. And I still do!
I daydreamed about Paris. It took two years, but I finally got there.
I went cuckoo for cocoa puffs on chick flicks. And talked about the movies that really moved me.
I spilled my guts on my journey with "maybe motherhood"... and now my journey into motherhood.
And I told you my most secret thoughts (well some of them, at least)

What does another year of blogging bring?
I'm still not sure. This motherhood transition has knocked me off my block a bit at times and having never gone through it before, it's hard to know how much is temporary and how much is here to stay. I don't know how that will change things.

I do know that I'm still on the path of a writer, although my steps down the path have slowed. I also know that I still love to share my fleeting insights and feelings, plus the occasional whimsy.

But I'm not sure about other things...

I'm not sure how I feel about documenting my journey through motherhood after baby is born. In a sense, I'm documenting baby's life for all the world to see, and baby doesn't get a say in it. I don't have any radical black and white convictions, but those shades of gray worry me.

And I'm not sure about other aspects of blogging...

The way it puts life on a public pedestal. It's like always looking in the mirror. Does it make me too self-conscious? Is it a good thing? I'm an introspective person by nature, and I don't think that's bad. But what blogging makes me self-conscious about is often not my character, but rather how cool I am or how photogenic or trendy or how exciting my life is or how many people give a darn about what I write. And I don't know that those things are the best gauge of a life well-lived. What worries me is the idea I might come to be more concerned about what anonymous society thinks about me than the people who really count.

Over the years I've gotten so much inspiration from blogs for things like home decor, fashion, food, crafts, etc. I love the fact that (most) blogging is not corporate-directed. It's real people, sharing what they've found and tried and liked. And yet, like magazines, so much of blogging can stir up envy and acquisition-ary tendencies.

"Why doesn't my house look like that? I think it's time to remodel the bathroom"
"I want that moroccan pouf I see in all the cool people's living rooms..."
"I need a new pair of boots"
"What's MY signature fragrance?"
"Everyone else has an iPhone. Why don't I get one? I don't want to be the last one on the block, do I?"
"Oh, I need to check out that Etsy store"

It's not that I think these things are horrible. They're normal and natural and human, but I have enough problems with "I-want-itis" without feeding the beast. I know some bloggers intentionally use their blogs as a force for good (or at least what they believe in) to try to motivate and inspire themselves and others towards higher ideals and maybe that's a path I need to consider.

So I'm not 100% sure what blogging holds for me in the future, but as I've done in the past, I'll keep going a little longer, to see what emerges.

Thanks for reading and coming along for the ride!

23 Weeks and feeling like a brood hen

2011-12-08T17:07:00.000-06:00

So maybe this weekly preggo posting isn't working out, because I skipped a week again? Maybe it's taking the photos that's so hard. See! See what happens when it's just me and the camera? I end up with this mess!

How I'm feeling physically:
Pregnant, baby. Pregnant. At one point I felt like my belly grew a few inches overnight although then it slowed down again. I'm still struggling with the body morphing. Chocolate milk and banana bran muffins are favorite foods lately. Heartburn continues to be a regular visitor. Discomforts show up most often in the middle of the night. I get up, stretch my legs and hips and try a new position to sleep in. I'm not uncomfortable too much yet, but the third trimester starts in four weeks and I can feel myself gradually shifting.

How I'm feeling emotionally:
I had an unexpected bout of quietness last week which is why I didn't blog. I found this web site which is an immense help in making me feel more normal! Each month, they address emotional issues you might be going through and I haven't found much that talks about the emotional sides of pregnancy in depth. This is explaining A LOT and I quote: You may find that where you once were outgoing, you now prefer to keep to your nest, like a brood hen. Yes that's it exactly! I feel like a brood hen!

Highlights:

Umm... packing away more of my clothes I can't fit in? Not sure if that's exactly a highlight.
Doing more planning for the nursery and slowly but surely cleaning out the room to make space for the new!
More wiggles and kicks.

The irrational exuberance of the internetz

2011-12-07T10:53:00.000-06:00

*via velvettangerine

I like them. These charismatic, optimistic, pep-talking, self-proclaimed philosophers and life coaches (who I will not bother naming here). Or at least I used to. They are good on those days I can believe in grandiose dreams, those days I believe in my own possible greatness, those days I believe that I can be a published author or do something else that is fabulous, that inside of me is some seed of accomplishment that has not yet unfurled.

But on days like today, I tire of them. I don't want to hear another one (already secure or seemingly so in their own success) tell me how I, too, can be like them, by following my own creative star and believing in my own genius (and following their formula, their blog, joining their community or buying their online course or book).

Because on days like today I don't believe in my own genius. And on days like today I'm not sure if we've all been sold a load of crap. If genius is all it takes. Or if it takes a heap of luck, a sprinkle of magic fairy dust and years and years of stubborn persistence in the face of failure and rejection. And I don't know if I'm a genius. If the fairies like me. If I'm lucky. And most of all, I don't know if I have the cojones to be stubbornly persistent.

You see it is a day like today because I've begun querying for my novel. That is another story in itself. But the process of querying brings up all these things in me. I pull on one emotional string and find it tied to another, until I realize I'm in the middle of a messy web, tangled up in blue as Bob Dylan would say.

I will admit, in hushed embarrassed tones, to my own longings for greatness. No, I have no wish to be celebrity famous, to ever be known by paparazzi or gossip columns or to be ostentatiously rich. But I wish to do something great, in my own small way. To write a book (or 10) and have them published and sold and read and loved and tucked up against knees and pressed to chests and passed on to friends.

It seems like a humble little dream, doesn't it? A cozy one? I've always thought so. But I've realized in the last two years it is so much more daunting than I imagined. And at times I get discouraged. Incredibly so. Not only are the odds of "being discovered" in a sea of manuscripts incredibly slim, there is also the fact that publishing is undergoing radical change at present.

And pursuing publication seems to suck all the joy out of what I love about books and writing. Instead of reading what I love in all its mad diversity, I feel obliged to learn my genre and stay current. Instead of being wildly creative, I need to understand the conventions of the publishing industry and my genre and stick to them. And the little time I have to write and read, is eaten into by the need to learn about the publishing industry, research agents and build a platform. It all seems impossible! Especially as I wonder how I will have the time to do this once baby arrives in all his demanding glory.

Sigh. I don't mean to sound so whiny in this post, but it's where I'm at today. And the irrational exuberance of internet gurus makes me want to go off.

Because I think about this little baby I'm carrying. Will he also dream of greatness? Will his heart ache with longing for things he most likely will not be able to achieve? What will I teach him about it? Will I teach him to reach and strive, in spite of ridiculous odds? Or will I teach him to be practical? Or a bit of both? Will I teach him confidence and stubborn persistence? Should I teach him stubborn persistence in the face of ridiculous odds? Is that really wise?

At what point do we humans need a reality check? Doesn't a simple review of human history reveal that most people live "small lives of quiet desperation"? And if greatness is not possible, how do we accept our "small lives", make the best of them, and perhaps find a way to live a small life with a smile, a gentle humble spirit, kindness and peace? Because that's what I'd most want for myself, and that's what I'd want to teach my baby.

So many questions. So many strings in this web. Do you relate?

Adventures in macarons

2011-12-05T18:21:00.001-06:00

In the past year, I tasted my first real macaron at a little bakery here in Austin. I had seen so many of the lovely pictures on the internet of candy-colored macarons in jewel box packages and I was curious what all the hype was about. With my first bite I understood. I loved the light, chewy, gooey, soft texture, not to mention the amazing range of flavors from salted caramel to coffee to lemon to pistachio, rose, even lavender and violet.

Of course in Paris I wanted to sample macarons from the place of origin. I never made it to Pierre Herme, but I did make it to Laduree and I so enjoyed what I ate that I decided I wanted to try my hand at making macarons when I came home. I thought it would make such a fun gift to share them with friends and family who looked at me with puzzle expressions when I said the word "macaron".

(Btw, macarons and macaroons are not the same. Macaroons are a sort of haystack meringue with coconut flakes, and if you're lucky, chocolate is involved. Macarons are a meringue made with ground almonds or other nuts, which are then baked in neat little circles and sandwiched with a filling of buttercream or jam or curd or ganache.)

But I was afraid of making macarons and I did lots of hunting and reading up on the internet before trying my first batch. Luckily I found some very helpful posts on Brave Tart that alleviated much of my anxiety and encouraged me to give it a go.

It wasn't as simple as baking up a batch of chocolate chip cookies. I needed all the ingredients on hand - lots of eggs, butter, sugar, vanilla beans and the less common almond flour. Plus I needed a few tools - a Kitcheanaid (pretty essential), parchment paper (which is a godsend for baking if you've never tried it), an oven thermometer (wow, why did I never get one of these before), a foodscale (these can be quite useful too), and some piping tips and pastry bags.

I measured out all my ingredients beforehand and then went step by step. I went for a simple vanilla version. Did they turn out purrfectly? Umm no. But not bad. For all my attempts at precision, I didn't get the piping quite right. They cracked a bit and they weren't all the same exact size or perfectly round and smooth. For all that, they still taste quite good, in fact, amazingly so after a night resting in the refrigerator - so I've got the mix right, I just have to practice to make it prettier.

For years I've had this fantasy of having a bakery or being a pastry chef. It's nonsensical, especially since it's probably not nearly as glamorous as I imagine. But I've always loved bakeries that are worth eating at and looking at and anytime I'm somewhere new, I go out of my way to eat at a special bakery. I always find myself perusing the pretty little baking cookbooks in the bookstore. So I let these things linger, enjoying my silly dreams while I can. Sometimes a dream is just as good, if not better, than the real thing.

The thing about Paris...

2011-12-02T17:23:00.000-06:00

So more people have been asking about my trip to Paris... "How WAS it?" they ask.

I could answer like a normal person, show photos and say "We went to the Eiffel Tower at night and it was bitterly cold and raining, and we were next to a group of loud foreign men who smelled like garlic and salami for an hour and I was so nervous going up in the elevator that I could hardly look out" - which would be true.

I could tell you that I nicknamed this my "peepee around Paris tour" as I was pregnant and always looking for a bathroom, and tell you about how I waited for almost 30 minutes once outside at a public toilet. I could tell you about how I also considered it a stairclimber workout as I was always climbing steps!

But no, me being me, I have to get all deep and reflective and tell you about my soul's journey in Paris instead.

It's a funny thing. Going somewhere you've always dreamed of going, going to a place that's resonated with your soul for so long. You see, my secret is this. I was afraid. I was afraid I would SO fall in love with Paris that I would never want to leave. I was afraid that somehow it would resonate deep in my soul, with some knowledge of homecoming that I seem to always have been looking for (a topic for another day).

Have you ever known anyone who's fallen in love with a place or an adventure? The person who bought a coffee plantation in Hawaii and now eats mangoes from their own backyard. The person who moved to Savannah and opened a cupcake shop? The person who travelled around the world for a year? (Oh wait, that's a movie.) Anyway. There are those people out there who get bitten by some bug, carried away by a dream, or maybe just bold and rash enough to follow dreams the rest of us sit on.

And I was afraid I might be one of them. Not that I wanted to be. This is hardly a convenient time to have an inconvenient dream. So it was with some relief that I realized that Paris didn't feel like home.

There were so many things I loved about Paris.

The architecture, the way a shuttered window and balcony could be so elegant. Cobbled streets. Cafes with their woven chairs. Patisseries and boulangeries and fromageries and tea shops. Epic monuments steeped in history. The seemingly endless number of things to do. Gorgeous saturated colors - cobalt, emerald, teal, ruby, glossy black. The parks. Watching boats while walking along the Seine lined with golden-leafed trees. Versailles, where I wish I could go on a sunny fall day and spend the afternoon picnicking on the grounds and riding bikes.

But there were disappointments too.

I have long been told of the superiority of the French, not to mention the Parisians, when it comes to matters of style. And I will confess to being a little disappointed (although not exactly surprised), at how ordinary Parisian style was. With the exception of a few standouts, they looked just how I might expect urban dwellers to look here - jeans, boots, winter coat and scarf - this is the uniform. I don't know if the chic reputation of France has been diminished by modern culture, or if it's always been overhyped, but this is what I saw.

Like so many large cities, I often felt jostled, crowded, rushed. And while the metro eased the pain in my feet, it added to this feeling of being too closed in. After days of tourist activities, long lines, getting lost, not communicating well, feet aches, back aches, being sneezed on, and sneezing back, what I most wanted was home. My home.

There was something so amazing, about finally acting on a dream - a sense of fulfillment, of closure. And yet I walked away with something more, something else, a glimpse that maybe what I'm really longing for isn't something or some place outside of myself, but what I already have inside me. I don't need to be somewhere else to fully experience that, to bring it to life. Who I am, I carry that with me. The things I love about Paris, I carry with me. And I always have. Maybe the fulfillment of a dream is not as important as having it in the first place.

I hope to travel much more in my life, but this trip confirmed something I already suspected - I'm not one of those people who LIVES to travel. The little moments of my life make everyday enjoyable and precious to me - travel is just an exciting and rare punctuation to the everyday, and I'm okay with that.

The last day we were in Paris was utterly gorgeous. Sunny. Almost warm. We picked out some pastries from Stohrer's, the oldest patisserie in Paris that sits on Rue Montorgeuil and then we went for a walk along the Seine and found a spot to sit and have a luxuriant picnic. It was the best lemon tart ever.

Au revoir, Paris!

Grateful for

2011-11-24T10:24:00.000-06:00

*via thisvintagechica

Thunderstorms that wake me in the night, but let me go back to sleep
The big cozy bed I sleep in
The big cozy man I sleep next to
And a silk robe and a cup of tea in the morning to make it easier to get out of that bed

Piles of colorful yarn waiting to be made into something
Endless inspiration on the internets to make something new
Writers, and creators, and dreamers, bold enough to share themselves
And the people who've encouraged me in my own dreams

The blue room that's been my writing room, that will be a nursery soon
The little life that is already wiggling inside of me, who doesn't yet have a name, but already has a place in my heart

Family, even when we feel too far away
Friends who "get me", even on off days

Long baths and a stack of books waiting by my bed for those off days
And many more books, waiting to be found
Stories waiting to be told

And oh so many more - all the little pleasures and blessings I'm so grateful to enjoy

Happy Thanksgiving all!

21 Weeks and... the big reveal

2011-11-23T13:47:00.000-06:00

Well, I'm not framing this photo. Oh well.

How I'm feeling physically:
Pretty good. No major changes. Some back aches and hip aches in the night. My belly continues to grow. Craving sweets. Aargh. Want to bake! ;-)

How I'm feeling emotionally:
About that belly... It's weird. The changing body in pregnancy. It's like I know it's a natural, healthy thing, but it's still hard psychologically at times. I worry about my husband finding me attractive, but in those moments when he looks at me and smiles and rubs my tummy, I know he finds me attractive in a new, different way. And I worry sometimes about the aftermath of all this blossoming - what will my body be like? How will I feel about it? But I think these feelings are normal, a part of the process.

Highlights:
Here's the cute little onesie I bought in Paris when I didn't know whether I was having a boy or a girl... I still think it's adorable and perfect... now that I know. Last week I had my 20 week sonogram. It was so exciting and such a relief to see my little baby, totally healthy and kicking away in there. And of course I was waiting for the big reveal.

*via Trendy Peas

Well it turns out that I will be saving loads of money on the sort of frou frou frippery a little girl requires, because we're having a boy! Of course I imagine I'll be buying balls and robots and dinosaurs instead :-)

We're both happy about the gender, but we would have been either way. We tried not to get too attached to any particular outcome. So now I'm enjoying this new phase of dreaming up the nursery and color schemes and making a list of names.

Oh, and see what I have to look forward to? This video totally cracked me up!

Clinging to a book and crawling up under covers

2011-11-21T10:04:00.000-06:00

*via Elsie esq.

Last week I was too busy just surviving to do much of anything else. It was one of those times that hits me out of the blue, when I need to have a little more grace with myself, to be slow, be easy, or be uneasy, be tired, be sick. I've come to see that for every up there is often a down waiting. And I'd just gone through several ups - the long awaited Parisian tour, not to mention the 20 week sonogram. And bam! I was hit with some down days.

I wonder sometimes if these down days are about transitions, giving myself enough space for transitions - between seasons, between states of being, between good health and illness, between one physical or emotional space and another. I don't plan for the transitions. I don't plan for downtime. And when it shows up and demands its due I'm often put out. I wonder why do I always think I need to be in a constant state of progress?

But one of the little things I've been enjoying in this time is a deliciously good book called The Night Circus by Erin Morgenstern. In times of transition, a good book is my life line, giving me something to enjoy in a quiet way, an excuse to snuggle up underneath the covers.

And this book is so good. So good. I find myself wanting to say it's the best book I've read in several years - or the one I've most enjoyed perhaps. She creates such an enticing real world with her words that I find myself longing to go to the Night Circus or a midnight dinner and I'm just dying to see a movie adaptation of this book!

If you enjoy the fantastical, odd and mysterious and an epic, yet restrained, destined sort of romance, you just might love it too!

Paris impressions

2011-11-19T10:46:00.000-06:00

I was on a high the first few days were were in Paris. Even though I was exhausted from the plane trip, I was overjoyed at our prix fixe brunch on Rue Montorgueil. It was a beautiful Sunday morning and we sat watching the pedestrians walk by and it was all oh-so-French.

With full tummies, we walked down to the Louvre and the Tuileries to catch a tour bus. It was the perfect way to get oriented and be lazy. In fact we both fell asleep on the bus, but it was still thrilling. Everything was so much larger than I had pictured it.

Unfortunately jet lag took over and by five in the evening, our little apartment, a hot bath and a bed became the most welcome sights.

The next day we were off to a late start. We wandered into the nearby St. Eustache cathedral. Sometimes it was the unplanned little things that amused me most, like the King of Pop shop I happened to walk by.

Our tour bus tickets were still good, so we got on a bus at dusk and ended up seeing the Sacre Coeur and Notre Dame by night. And the first time we saw the Eiffel Tower twinkling it was magical.

The next day, while my husband slept, I took the chance to take a rainy walk into the Marais. I was on a mission. I wanted to go to Mariage Freres. I wish I would have planned it to actually take a real formal tea there, but I still enjoyed browsing the shop and of course I walked away with a few teas. I also indulged in a sampler box of macarons - which was soon thoroughly sampled.

I enjoyed playing the part of the flaneur, as they call it in France, wandering, walking, watching. But within a few days my feet were not loving it so much. That's when activities like this boat ride on the Seine were such a relief. It was so beautiful - golden twilight, cruising down the river. One of my favorite moments of the trip.

More coming soon...!

20 weeks

2011-11-17T09:41:00.000-06:00

Sadly no photo this week. I'm sick. I look a mess. A mess that should not be documented for all eternity.

20 weeks! In the weird world of pregnancy math, this is the halfway point. Five more months seems a long time, but when I think about how quickly Thanksgiving will be here and then Christmas and New Years, and then I'll be in the third trimester, taking birthing classes and putting the nursery together and wrapping things up at work, then I realize it will probably go by fast.

How I'm feeling physically:
Well, it's been a rough week. The first day of the week, I was on an 11 hour plane flight from Paris to Houston, followed by a customs and security rigmarole before boarding my connecting flight home. I think I got really dehydrated and I've been purposely trying to rehydrate ever since. I'd also been fighting a sore throat for a few days that blossomed into a nasty sinus infection once I got home. Yikes. And now work awaits.

I think I just gave myself my last pedicure this week. I'm starting to feel it be more challenging now to bend over and tie my shoes, much less paint my toes. After this, it's off to the beauty salon. Not that I'm complaining.

How I'm feeling emotionally:
Glad to be home. There is something about my own home that feels so wonderful. Bursts of nesting energy in spite of the sickness. The first full day I was back I cleaned out my refrigerator and the next day set to scrubbing mold off my shower tiles, ordering a Hypnobabies home course and signing up for my doula.

I did have what I consider to be my first hysterical outburst this week too. Although I'm not sure whether to chock it up to pregnancy hormones, sheer exhaustion, or my own over-sensitive nature. After the 11 hour flight, we had to go through security again in Houston. Wouldn't you know it? They picked me to go through the full body scanner. I said "I'm pregnant, can't I just go through the regular metal detector?" but oh no... it was that or a patdown. I was in such a panic and so upset because we were running late for our connecting flight that I said "Just do it" even though my husband was telling me to get the patdown instead. I started crying in the full body scanner while my hands were up in the air and I didn't stop crying for several minutes after that. It was the last straw in a long day.

Highlights:
Buying my first thing for baby. I've been dying to do this for a couple of months, but every time I looked at baby clothes, they were mostly so gender specific and nothing jumped out at me. In Paris though, I came across this cute little onesie that I thought could pass for a boy or a girl and I bought it. Looking at it, I wonder who will be arriving to fill it. It's so strange to think of the intimacy of having a child and yet we get no choice in who arrives. It is a total surprise.

p.s. More Paris reports to come, but due to rough week, I've had little blogger energy.

Week 18 and 19 - Pregnant in Paris!

2011-11-11T11:14:00.000-06:00

So I've been on a bit of a secret trip and have just recently gotten back... from Paris! Which is why I haven't posted these little updates. I'm catching up...

How I'm feeling physically:
I've started to feel more of the weight of being pregnant, especially when I am on my feet for a long time, then I really feel heavy pressure that can be uncomfortable.

How I'm feeling emotionally:
I have felt myself moving into a new honeymoon stage of excitement, especially now that I can feel the baby almost everyday.

Highlights:
Feeling the baby move for the first time. I can't even tell you how amazing that was. I smiled, I laughed, I said OMG at two distinct nudges. Now... let me tell you, I was super eager to feel the baby move. I'd been feeling odd but non-distinct sensations, but nothing I could clearly say was movement. I don't know if this was cheating or not, but what I did was lay down in bed and put both of my palms on my lower belly and just lay still and feel. And that's when I started to clearly feel things, tiny little series of nudges and movement all over the place. The annoying thing is, I'm not totally sure if I'm feeling it in my hands or on the inside - probably both. The pressure of my hands on my belly might have made it easier to detect. But it's there, it's really there.

How I'm feeling physically:
Mostly good, but I've started to notice the first limitations of being pregnant - especially on a trip like this. Walking too long, on my feet too long, too many steps, heavy belly, too many bathroom breaks, the moments when my mind wants to keep going but my body is feeling tapped out.

How I'm feeling emotionally:
So excited, so happy, so in love with this little thing I can feel moving inside me now. A new phase. Afraid that I talk about it too much to my husband sometimes ;-) Not that I haven't had my down moments too... like when I'm in Paris, feeling like I "should" be floating on pink cloud of macarons and instead feeling like Oscar the Grouch at times.

Highlights:
Definitely feeling the baby move more. Every night I'd lay down and the baby would put on a little show. I kept putting my husband's hand on my belly hoping he'd feel something and he didn't... until one night... he did! Then we looked at my belly to see if we could see anything moving and we were both surprised that we could!

Nursery madness

2011-11-09T03:53:00.000-06:00

I am wasting the night away, looking at Lay Baby Lay, picking my favorite nursery inspiration boards. And by the way, Lay Baby Lay is pretty much my favorite inspiration site. Her design philosophy is not matchy-matchy - it's unique and inspired and she incorporates both trends and vintage items.

There are many inspiration boards that are cute, but I'm finding I'm drawn to ones that are light, casual, fun, homey and a bit bold and eclectic.

I have a problem though. Almost every single one I'm drawn to is for a girl. And for all I know, there's a little boy camped out in my belly right now.

So these are my favorites. And no I don't expect you to click on every one. Ha! This is more my own sort of personal log for sorting out later... when I know if I'm having a boy or girl.

Surfer girl
Super sweet, clean & modern
Little partner (trying to get into the masculine energy!)
Pink sunsets and tangerine dreams (oh so cute and fun)
Black, white and pop (for the chicest little girl ever)
Sail away (maybe this could do for a boy)
Classic little gentleman (this is up my alley, I'm a bit nervous about charcoal walls though)
Time for tea (I love the idea of a tea-themed room for a girl, unexpected but still girly)
Ahoy little matey (more nautical themage for a boy - why do I like the sea?)
Brights and whites (I think this general concept could go boy or girl)
Jet set baby (stinking cute!)
Pink and navy
Macaron delights (I'm always drawn to French confections)
Steve McQueen Vintage (now this boyishness is more like it. I don't know how I feel about putting up a poster of Steve McQueen with a gun holster and a car wreck on it though).

It was nice wasting the night away. I still don't know how I'll decorate the nursery. But it got me thinking... why don't we decorate our own bedrooms like we decorate nurseries, full of cozy themes and attention to every detail? Food for thought.

Mad motherhood setting in. Signing off...

Bamileke stool rescue part 2 - Blue!

2011-11-07T04:18:00.000-06:00

So I'm afraid your comments swayed me (and I'm so glad they did). Instead of going with white, I decided to paint my bamileke stool which I bought for $3 a bright glossy turquoise since I happened to have an unused can of spray paint laying around.

It's beachy, but bright and cheery. I'm loving it so far. It goes great with my colorful melange of throw pillows. It looks like a brand spanking new accent table and nothing like the mess I found it in. Even the cracks look awesome - nice texture. Paint, it seems, can do anything.

These little successes make me want to do more thrift shopping (and painting).

Countdowns

2011-11-05T06:00:00.000-05:00

I was talking to my mother on the phone the other day, blabbing incessantly about pregnancy and how at the beginning I was counting down to the second trimester, so I could relax and not be so anxious. And now I'm counting down to the 20 week sonagram. And after that I'll be counting down to Christmas and then counting down to the due date.

And my wise mother said something like "That's life, a series of countdowns."

And I knew she was right. Because after the baby's born, I'm sure I'll have a whole new set of countdowns I haven't even put on the map yet.

This struck me with a fresh clarity. Why is it that I can't just be here now? In this space? In this moment? Why am I so eager to jump ahead?

There is something about pregnancy that is a bit anxiety-provoking - for some women at least. You feel as if in a sense your baby isn't "safe" until they're out! Which is ridiculous, because this is how we're designed. It's the safest place in the world at this moment. It's more that life isn't "safe" not for any of us, not really, not ever. And the only way to get over the anxiety is to find some way to just live with that fact, instead of thinking that there is some safety zone out there somewhere. Or some happiness zone. Or some ideal life zone.

Part of me wonders if it's just part of my nature, my personality - to always be looking ahead - should I accept that? Or is it a flawed way of walking through life?

I'm not really sure. But I know, in this time, I want to take a little breath, quit hurrying and try to enjoy where I'm at just a little bit longer.