fricka

on my walls i would write...

2012-03-01T00:10:00.000-06:00

For about a nano second I thought I was going to sit down tonight and throw down some hump day nuggets and mildly pleasing photos from the last few days. Maybe have a beer or a glass of wine with my nuggets. I'm so crazy.

No, instead there has been a frantic realization of a 4 minute speech that is due tomorrow. A speech with a written version, complete with citation page, visual aids (that must be creative and unique) and a costume. The topic? Courtship and marriage in the Elizabethan Era. Which, by the way, is a shockingly unpleasant topic. Sure, they had fantastically stunning clothing, but as is all too common throughout history, marriage was mostly just a way to sell your daughter to the highest bidder. Be it a hefty dowry or prestige and honor, girls of that day had a price tag. It didn't take long for a study of then...to turn into a comparison to now, to morph into a current events lesson. We took on some heavy topics tonight.

But, 4 hours later...done. BAM! Moms are magic. Just so you know.

And now, at 10 PM a round of nuggets seems less like relaxing wine sipping therapy and more like frantic homework. Since I'm all in high school mode tonight, I'm going to call NOT FAIR that I had to do homework all night instead of chill out like I wanted to. ~dramatic, exaggerated outrage~

For those who are about to cry foul and shake a finger at me for "doing" her homework....shhhhh. I wish I was the kind of mom that just did it, it would be easier. No, in our house it means I get to check sources, proof read, make recommendations, read second, third and fourth versions, insist on more "creative" visual aids, mock score each category to ensure we are catering to the teacher's preferences.

Seriously, give me a diet Rite and some proper 90's metal and I'll make short work of any project. Or proper 90's dance tunes..."Rhythm is a Dancer" will do the trick.

And now here she is with geography homework. We need a postcard that represents Sweden and it's most well known geographic feature.

::

Remember this little piece of inspiration?

We return to it tonight to finish this:

On my walls I would write...

love song lyrics

hear beats fast

colors and promises

how to be brave

how can I love when i'm afraid to fall

but watching you stand alone

all of my doubt suddenly goes away somehow

one step closer

i have died everyday waiting for you

darling don't be afraid

i have loved you for a thousand years

i'll love you for a thousand more

promises to my daughters. I promise to always be brave and fight the good fight

our love story <3

i own my past, it is what makes me who i am today

strong is sexy, soft is sexy, being a great partner is sexy, so is having an opinion

you can't have it all, i know my priorities

i will dance wherever i want

i can't live without music

i miss the inner circle

twing
hot thomalla
tt

I'd love to know even one thing you would write on your wall. It's late, go ahead and share, it's just us girls here anyway:)

Only 2 minutes until it's tomorrow. Homework is done and this momma is feeling quite accomplished tonight.

WOOT! XOXOXOXOXOXO

nerd weekend

2012-02-27T06:00:00.000-06:00

Sunday night. All my nerds sitting at their various stations, doing nerd things. Annika spent the day discovering the Starcraft Brood war while Brandon and I dropped $20.00 on the Starcraft 2 Major League Gaming tournament online. We plugged a laptop into our office/family room TV and parked on the couch for the last two days. We set up camp so that we could parent and veg out simultaneously. The mornings were reserved for heavy toddler activity, lots of coloring, Spanish & French flash cards, super hero play with all Liam's "guys". Around lunchtime, we would load up Liam's favorite orange plate with all his favorites, green beans, cheese, french bread and a fruit cup. When you are trying to balance good parenting with super nerd, you stick with the favorites so as not to disrupt the perfect harmony.

During some tournament downtime, Autumn made a red velvet cake.

During nap times we started playing the game Brandon bought me for Valentines Day, Final Fantasy XIV.

I'm fully aware 90% of you will have no idea what I'm talking about, but in my world, this is one of about 3 versions of a perfect weekend. This is the "nerds only" version, where everyone gets to be a kid for 48 hours. Meals aren't really planned, we actually stop to get enough soda for a weekend (normally not found in our house in any great quantity) and no makeup, pigtails and comfy sweats rule.

There are no schedules, no bedtimes, no wake up calls, no projects.

As a rule, both Brandon and I prefer to stay home. We love to do this nerd thing, but also to paint or sew or garden or read or order in all weekend with a great bottle of wine while we avoid outside commitments. It's tough to get us out of the house.

But sometimes we do get out and...oh I don't know...do something like...go to Vegas.

::

Vegas. I have been there many times. First as a fairly young child of about 5 I guess. Since then, I honestly can't tell you how many times I've been there, simply because many were when I was so young, the trips are kind of crammed together in my head. It's a mashup up of Circus Circus, red carpets and lots of mirrors. Sparkly gold gilded smoke filled rooms and shows.

One spring break in college stands out. I went with my best friend. One of the best trips of my life, so much laughing. It was on that trip that my mom and I transitioned from mother/daughter to our brand of mother/daughter/friendship. I think we all have a period of time or moment when we look at our parents and see real adult human beings, rather than our perfect or imperfect mom and dad. We start to cut them some slack and understand that they are just regular schmoes like us. It was on this trip that I looked up and saw my in my mom a person, a woman independent of the nurturer who raised me. It was a good trip and a different Vegas experience.

A couple of trips up when I lived in Phoenix, but was too poor to do anything but people watch, which is really the best use of one's time in Vegas.

And now again on a business trip, which meant yet another version of Vegas. Early morning seminars and speakers. Suits + heels = blisters from running from one venue to the next. Business cards, names to remember, happy hours to have just enough to be charming, not enough to be loud. Oh the balancing act, it was exhausting.

I brought my baby girls to see the bright lights, glitz and glamor. The spectacle of entire regions of the world confined to several city blocks. To see shows on such grand scales it boggles the mind and some on such a small cheesy scale you can only say "that's Vegas baby".

We stayed at Caesars Palace, the same place the guys from The Hangover stayed. This was huge for the girls. Autumn got to stand in front of the Bellagio at midnight and watch the same water show they watched after the big heist in Ocean's 11. I don't remember if I had a Vegas movie memory the first time I went, but it absolutely came up again and again with my kids, a product of our nerd movie weekends I'm sure.

Every morning Autumn and I would wake up around 4 am and fight to get back to sleep. After it was clear we were not transitioning to the new timezone, we'd watch the sunrise. Every single morning I sat on the floor with my oldest baby girl, coffee in hand, in front of the giant window facing the strip...watching the sun come up over a city that ignores the night.

And every morning Autumn would say "hey Mom. We're in Vegas."

What will stick with me about this trip, is seeing my girls actually have some fun together. We are smack in the middle of teenage/tween/puberty/bratty little sister/mean big sister years. They almost never laugh together and cannot be in the same space together without bickering about absolutely everything. They appear to be used to it, or feel like this is all normal. But I hate it, I hate them being unkind to each other and refuse to give up the fight for civility in my home.

This didn't stop on this trip, but be still my heart...they actually had some fun together.

I learned that most places in Vegas do not want you snapping photos inside. And I barely had time to do any touristy photography anyway. But when I look at all the pictures of the trip I'm so thankful I got these.

Apparently 65 degrees is too cold for swimming in Nevada. Wimps.

But pools make fantastic natural light photos studios:)

As always, you can see more shots of daily life at my other little blog project Wings for Maria .

6 days in Vegas is a long time. On the second day my mom got deathly ill, on the fourth my dad. I desparately missed my boys. It was difficult to balance being where I should have been for work and networking and being where I wanted to be... taking care of my mom, spending warm, sunny afternoons with my girls or even feeling like I should never have gone at all, leaving Brandon home with the baby for so long.

It wasn't like running around Circus Circus with a bag of quarters.

It sure wasn't like spring break in college.

Even with the hiccups, it was better. I was there as a professional in a role I can be proud of. I was there as a daughter in awe of what her parents have accomplished. I was there as a mother wanting to show her growing daughters yet another glorious take on how to live your one wild and precious life.

It was a good 6 days in Vegas and this was a good nerd weekend at home.

XOXOXOXOXOXO

follow me follow me!

2012-02-07T04:00:00.000-06:00

I love me some Friday night tired. It's the content warm tingling of an exhausted body, having completed a full week of work, child rearing, good wifing and healthy "ish" living. As with all good Friday nights, I'm still stuck in my work clothes because I've spent the night not worrying about schedules and routines, instead indulging each family member with time. Time to recap the week, catch up on the drama, plan the weekend. I don't cook on Friday's, we grab and sit in shifts, so that each person gets their own time with each parent. Some of us eat, while the other's play cards. Some play cards while one of us gives Liam a bath. Fridays are a free for all love fest with no rules about what you eat, when you eat it or where.

On a weeknight, I enforce a fairly rigid schedule of chores, homework, dinner time and bedtime. There is always a smattering of dance parties and orange soda happy hours because all work and no play makes momma freak out a little. But every night at the exact same time the kids heads hit the pillow...I turn into a pumpkin.

A couch pumpkin.

But on Fridays, I'm in it until the end baby. Did you know that "the end" of a Friday night is 11pm? True story. For me it is anyway and if I make it that long, I fee kind of like a rock star. Sometimes I worry I'm making my kids super lame. My 15 year old daughter just woke up from a half hour nap on the floor to tell me she is going to bed. 15 and turning in at 10pm on a Friday night. Does that mean I'm doing a good job? Or a terrible job?

2.6.12

I cannot prove this, but I know Liam lays in his toddler bed, waiting to hear the sound of my ass hitting the pleather of my office chair. Waiting for the sound of fingers being gingerly placed on the keyboard and for the deep cleansing breathe his momma takes at the end of the day, when she thinks she has some time to her self to write, or edit photos, or blog stalk. Or maybe have a good laugh at Damn You Auto Correct. Or a good cry in front her her computer so that she can blame it on something there, but really just cuz she needs a good cry.

He waits and when he hears any combination of these things, he gets sick. BAM. And stays sick for days, irritable & adorably pathetic, needy and cuddly, demanding and helpless against his booger nose. And this guarantees my undivided attention day and night, I'm locked in.

This phenomenon is the reason I cannot piece together a blog more than once a week if that. I have dozens of one paragraph blogs, all begun in a sincere moment of inspiration to write, to share something, interrupted by the crocodile tears of a my little prince.

His little voice breaks me down to the very core. When he looks at me and uses his new big boy words he gazes into my eyes. He is like his dad that way, always flirting, always looking into you, never just at you.

"Momma sleepa Liam?"
"Come on momma...follow me follow me!"
"One more book?"

And when I give in and climb into his narrow twin bed with him, suffering the panda pillow pet as my only option, he touches my face and confirms "Momma sleepa Liam?"

"Yes baby, momma will sleep with Liam."

He touches my face, tracing my eyes and nose, whispering what he knows "eyes...nose...cheeks...boca". Almost without exception, he puts me to sleep with his face tickles.

And this is why my blogs are so few and far between these days. I thought you should know.

::

I have never felt like I had to go out looking for inspiration for my writing or photography. I don't do either as a source of income, just for creative therapy which allows me a lot of room to move in. I'm accountable to no one and if suddenly no one read this blog, I'd still write it.

With that big a playground to play in, virtually no rules about how and why I do this, it's easy to do. Inspiration is automatic, just write what I want.

But you should never ignore inspiration when it kisses you right on the mouth. That would be rude.

I was gifted inspiration once before and it about sent me into orbit. I've been gifted inspiration again.

I love this book, this journal. I want to carry it around with me at all times and live the life that I imagine as I fill in the blanks. So I have been.

I'm going to tackle each unfinished answer here as well. One by one, on no particular timeline with no particular agenda.

I'm feeling like stretching myself, exploring and learning something new about myself. I'm feeling like growing and moving towards something.

::

I made the cake. I'm making a lot of cakes lately because of a cake plate we found at a thrift store. It's perfect and begs for a cake. See...inspiration.

I did not make the lovely pot holder, but I want it.

I did drink the wine and the beer.

There is that Superman t-shirt again. Heaven help us when he outgrows it.

We got snow! It was short lived, but it allowed Liam the chance to wear his new snow pants and boots. Wouldn't you know it, the first year I've EVER had my poop in a group enough to have everyone geared up for winter before it starts, and it doesn't start. Unbelievable.

But for one day, I had some snow babies.

I needed there to be some kind of cold snap, some kind of warm cozy snowed in day. I was pouty about the non winter winter. I guess this will have to do. At least I got pictures. And now spring can come.

::

We've given the girls a choice:

Quinceanera

Sweet 16

Autumn chose Quinceanera - (lit. meaning One (f.) who is fifteen), sometimes called "Fiesta de quince años", "Fiesta de Quinceañera", "Quince años" or simply "quince", is the celebration of a girl's fifteenth birthday in parts of Latin America and elsewhere in communities of people from Latin America. This birthday is celebrated differently from any other birthday, as it marks the transition from childhoodto young womanhood.^[1] The celebration, however, varies significantly across countries, with celebrations in some countries taking on, for example, more religious overtones than in others.

Good thing they can vary because her's is a Japanese flavored quinceanera lacking entirely in religious overtones.

I am so very excited for this party. It's all her, I'm just here to make sure it all comes together for her. It's Japanese food and language, anime and cosplay and of course...the Anime Detour. It's a weekend party in Minneapolis, it could be no other place with no other people.

The invitations are done, complete with origami crane gift from the birthday girl herself.

I am so very excited for this party.

Back to the book...or rather the journal. Feel free to play along, it's simple. Just finish the unfinished.

Chapter 1 - A Handmade Life (identity)

My body is holding onto...

baby fat

mystery pain

youth

the dance

the urge to go...somewhere

it's early morning internal alarm

the force

power

junk food

the rhythm

fatigue

a more comfortable version of itself

Ahhhh a completed post. Feels good:) XOXOXOXOXOXO

ode to the joy of a couch

2012-01-21T23:10:00.002-06:00

Note: For the 33 of you that have already read the sleepy, first edition of "Ode to the couch" blog, stick around for the photos. For the rest of you...this is all new information. Kisses.

::

I'm coming to you live, from my new couch. The one that feels like a velvet covered cloud and is the soothing color of a perfectly sweet creamed coffee. We've had the couch for a week and 2 days and I haven't done one single bit of evening physical activity since this beautiful creature came in to our lives. I cannot resist the chase lounge, the over stuffed pillows. We've even spent the night on it. Both of us. And we slept better than we do in our bed. This could be very very bad.

I've caught up on about 5 tv shows that I never even heard of before. Which is easy because I don't really watch tv. I have accidentally found some tv I enjoy via the netflix, but hulu is a different game entirely. Hulu and this couch have given me blogger's block. Every time I belly up to my desk to write, I get tense and figity, distracted by the siren song of the couch and the hulu.

It took me a week and 2 days to give up the fight and cave completely, bringing the laptop to the couch. My giant comfy blanket and my holiday jammie pants are made of the same material. I'm encased in velvety goodness, velcroed to this spot, peering over the top of my laptop fearful that the witch hunters will burn to to get rid of her dark magic. Name the terrible CW show.

But the writer's block is gone:) When you can't move your ass from the couch to the desk, bring the desk to the couch I guess. And then write about said couch.

This is no way to get ready for the Warrior Dash or a Tough Mudder or even the Pumpkin Festival 5k. I feel an intervention coming.

Or, it could be that my body needs this little piece of heaven just now. I have been crazy content, it's been building day by day since December. I'm taking deeper breathes, reading books, cooking new meals from new cookbooks. I'm journaling meals, complete with pictures, giddy with the idea that someday the girls will pick up this "cookbook" to find not only delish recipes, but their momma's sense of humor, and memories of how we always partied in the kitchen.

I'm not crashing on the couch every night. I'm sitting here reading. Real books, from start to finish. I've been reading the same 3 books for about 3 years. This couch comes along and BAM! New book done in less than a week. This couch is making me smarter. Fatter...but smarter.

When I'm not pining over furniture, some good work is getting done around here. A massive purge of excess toys brought more organization to several rooms in our new house. Finally, I feel like these rooms have their own purpose, a specific function rather than just places we dumped our stuff 6 months ago. We've lived in a lot of houses over the last 10 years and each time, there is a moment when I realize the house has become our home. When our people arrived last weekend for Autumn's 15 birthday, and everyone was settling into their rooms and tossing suitcases around like they would stay for ever...I felt that moment.

I love walking by a room and seeing suitcases open, things tossed about. It means someone is visiting:)

Fast forward 24 hours. After a peaceful snowed in Sunday at home, I just jumped on here to enjoy some of my frick'n amazing chili and finish this blog. Add some photos and call it good. But what I saw was 33 page views. For a blog post I did not send out into the universe. Except... I did. In my couch drunk stupor, I must have "posted" the blog instead of "saved" it.

I am too cool.

::

My girl turned 15 on January 17th. 15. Fifteen. Quince. It blows my mind. Of my three children, the story of how Autumn came to us is my favorite . She was the unplanned game changer of my life. In 3 minutes my life went from one of total self absorption to one of possibility. The possibility of knowing love so intense and overwhelming, you lose yourself in it. You would throw yourself in front of a freight train for it. That 15 seconds of peeing on a stick, followed by 165 seconds of watching a second blue line appear, forged a bond between myself and that cluster of cells that would forever change the course of my life. In 3 minutes, I become a mother, without hesitation, reservation or regret.

By the time I got pregnant with Annika I knew I was capable of sharing this love with however many children the universe blessed me with.

I knew I loved being pregnant and could rock it.

I had breastfeeding down. I could feed nations.

I could work off the baby fat in 12 months with out sacrificing Mexican food.

And when we decided to see if God and my old eggs could rally one last time, I was content with what I had, so Liam was the cherry on top. He is ALL dessert baby.

And as much as I believe each of my children is nothing short of a miracle, the truth is that neither Annika or Liam would have ever even had a chance...without Autumn.

My girl.

Well hello baby girl.

Look at my girl now. Totally confident in her style...eat'n an apple. I think she is the coolest.

My favorite part of birthday weekends? The long, lazy mornings.

with superman...

and Grandmas...

Grandmas who wear Ed Hardy glasses rule.

Grandma's who wear Superman t-shirts rule.

and favorite cousins...

I'm not a big shopper. As a matter of fact, you could know me for a very long time and never hear me utter the words "Let's go shopping!!" No, it's typically more like "Ugh, I have to go shopping, will you go for me?"

But for some reason, my 3 Aries loves can sweet talk me into just about anything, even a Saturday of shopping. How do they do it?

From left to right: Libra, Aries, Aries, Scorpio (me), Capricorn and... Aries.

The Aries. They are lovely, complicated creatures. I seem to be wildly attracted to them as well, even though as a Scorpio their over the top enthusiasm for life and right on the surface emotions require a lot of focus.

I have 4 Aries in my "inner circle" already, and I recently befriended another one without even realizing it. There is something going on here. I'll get back to you when I complete my research:)

I love it when family hangs out in my kitchen.

And it always happens. I've lived in houses where the kitchen is the smallest room in a tiny house and without fail, we end up piled high, sitting on counter tops and floors with wine in hand chatting away. Standing room only, the rest of the house available, but no...the kitchen is the heart of the home in my family.

My family + my husband's family + our family + eating a giant breakfast in my house = over the moon, swooning, gushing, cheesy joy!

Yup. We are home.

Speaking of my home. I need your help.

I have A LOT of windows that need A LOT of help in the window treatment department. At the moment there are blinds on them. I hate blinds. I'm grateful the former owners left them on, because this would be a giant fishbowl peep show if not for the terrible beige blinds. But we aren't really "beige" blinds kind of people.

Having said that, I am struggling to find a beautiful, creative and affordable way to cover all these fracking windows. I would like to spend less than 300.00, but so far that seems unlikely.

The big issue is that anytime you are going to toss up this much fabric, it needs to not overwhelm the room. I want to make them myself, but what fabric?!?!?

There are more, I just can't get them all in the photo.

Please, please help a sister out.

Happy Chinese New Year! And don't forget to give my other little project some love when you can! XOXOXOXOXO

Going Black

2012-01-18T13:40:00.000-06:00

This is what the web could look like under the Stop Online Piracy Act.

Keep the web open. Contact your representatives or find out more

the mother of all holiday posts

2012-01-01T22:31:00.000-06:00

My husband begged me not to name this blog "the mother of all holiday blog posts"...the expectations will be sky high. I laughed at the idea that anyone has "expectations"of the nerd herd blog. He's cute.

So I'm moving along through December, making cookies, shopping online, snapping photos and enjoying my Christmas jams when I realize that I hadn't had a "short" moment in almost 20 days. I was totally and completely present. I didn't review photos or write a single word beyond the occasional status update. It felt good to neglect everything but my family and Christmas tasks. It has been quite some time since days have flowed together so effortlessly and I've felt tears of joy well up in my eyes. The ride through each day took me to a place in my heart that desperately needed the visit.

Sometimes my husband looks over to find happy tears coming. It used to happen quite often. A peaceful snowy Sunday snowed in with the kids, a good video game and chili on the stove could overwhelm my heart with gratitude. For a husband who shares the exact same interests and for kids who love to spend time at home, with their family. Daughter's who sew with me or beg to play hearts. A little man who insists his dad keep his Superman jammie pants on for an entire Saturday. Such good stuff.

Over the last year, I was very careful to protect my heart from fully breaking. I tread lightly in all emotions for fear sadness would take root permanently. When you do that, it works but the price is that joy and gratitude get through in small doses as well. And in recent years, those are the two emotions that have driven my creativity, my photography and writing, my mothering style and dictating what kind of wife, daughter and friend I strive to be. Joy and gratitude for my unbelievable life.

But December 2011 may go down as the month of tears of gratitude. Something happened, my heart opened up and accepted whatever the universe offered. Of course there was the deep punching pain of our first Christmas without Maria...as expected. But I was shocked to find so much peace in just thinking about her, in recalling our last holiday with her.

I allowed myself to feel it all, and was rewarded with peace.

Here is something my husband hears a few Sundays a year..."I'm just going to stay up as late as I can with you and be wiped out at work tomorrow. I just want to keep this going." Sometimes, the fleeting 48 hours of a weekend are so painfully precious that I fight to stretch it out until only a death like sleep can take them away from me.

He heard that every weekend in December. I've spent a lot of tired days at work, but a girl has got to have priorities.

My priorities:

Her first formal.

Homemade Christmas gifts.

Christmas cookie marathons

Skipping family photos so that Liam can explore the set instead.

When the dancing starts, cookies get pushed wayyyyyyyyyyyyy down the priority list.

Getting to Brandon's family was the highest priority this year. Between my need to be close to my family for support and healing, the packing and moving and building a new life in South Dakota, we have been far too absent. Upon reflection, we realized that it had been a year since we had all been together at their house. We took time off to ensure we could spend 2 full days. As we drove north my husband spoke excitedly about the upcoming weekend, how pleased he was with finding the perfect gifts and how he was going to insist that I relax. Really relax. And sleep in late (I did) and unplug (I did) and just be together.

As much as I love my husband's feet, this is about my awesome new Christmas jammies.

And this is about awesome new flash cards from Grandma.

New babies in the family.

Laughter, sweet, precious laughter.

My mother in law's home is always ...home. perfectly manicured for every season but not over done.

Liam is finally old enough to really get Kimass. It blew his mind that we were letting him...in deed encouraging him, to rip apart pretty paper and tear open boxes. And even crazier, that inside each of these were trucks & super hero "guys" & books & tools and...oh my.

It was perfect. From start to finish.

Well, almost. Mother nature took the year off, she must still be recovering from the show she put on last winter. I miss the snow.

But back to some faces I love in places I love:

And then we came home to do it all again in our home with my family.

So...that is the mother of all holiday posts. In re-reading it, I realize all that really happened is that we did what most people do this time of year. See a little more beauty, become a little more generous and kind, offer more smiles, laugh a little more and make "getting there" a priority. It was good.

I think we'll keep it going.

Happy New Year to you and yours. XOXOXOXOXO

my shorts

2011-12-16T05:00:00.000-06:00

Hola! from booful kimass land. That's what our little village in SD is called on our way home from daycare everyday. "Oh Momma! Oh booful kimass!" I will drive in circles, down every street I see even a hint of kimass lights, to hear his little voice exclaim the beauty of Christmas. And when a block goes dark for a house or two? "Oh no Momma! Where kimass go?!?!" Kimass, where are you?" That voice...I win either way.

We hung probably the most amazing wreath ever at work today. It was a gift to our company and honestly just stunning. When it was finally up, I stood in the middle of a noon rush, coffee lovers on one side, road warriors on the other, and exclaimed "OH KIMASS! IT BOOFUL!" I can only believe I'm a joy to have around. No picture here, but check out my other blog later:)

I'm thinking in shorts these days. I'm feeling in shorts these days. By "shorts" I mean that I feel like I am moving along at mach speed, barely touching the surface of the earth. It's all good, I feel joy and love and pride and accomplishment, but it's all just whizzing by. And if I look back at the last year, it becomes a blur. Life changing decisions were made, we took off on a great new adventure, left the city to make a home in a small town and couldn't take our people with us. I look at us now and still know it was the right time and we are happy here. But we are moving at mach speed. Which only leaves time for these shorts.

What the hell are "shorts"? They are the moments when I feel deeply connected to what is going on around me. Or when I recall a memory that lives so vividly in my mind and heart, that I can live in every minute detail when I bring to the front of my mind.

I used to live in those connected moments all day, every day. I maybe had a small disconnect here and there while at work, but even then my job as a Human Resources professional largely left me knee deep in moments with people, connecting with them. But that is not what I'm talking about. What I'm talking about is the fact that for a very long time, I was blessed with years and years... of seemingly endless moments of the planets aligning and everything always turning out perfect. Feel free to vomit now.

I can tell you that was not the reality, but even in times when anyone would argue my life was swirling around the toilet bowl, I was connected to the meaning of what was happening, why it was happening and how it would turn out for the best. There was always some control, and therefore, always the ability to pause...connect...ponder the meaning...and move forward.

So when things outside my control started to happen, it messed up my mojo a bit.

Over this last year, here on my little bloggity blog I've referred to these shorter moments as finding the "sparkle" again. And maybe if you read my posts again, there are other metaphors for these shorts out there. I'm sure. But recently I've been thinking and feeling in short bursts so much I had to name the feeling.

::
A birthday short:
I cannot stop thinking about my birthday. I relive looking up from my Caribou "teaching and training" moment and seeing their faces and yelling "WHAT?!?!?!?" And then crying and running. And the dancing and waking up knowing they were in my house. The birthday dinner, the missed football game and happy hour beers, the perfect music mix which began with "Invincible" by Pat Benatar. I yelled "oh Autumn...you HAVE to see the legend of Billy Jean!" and having Barrett magically appear with it in his hand. The tattoo.

Perfectly connected moments, like a higher power was orchestrating our every move.

I also kept the perfect birthday card.
My sister in law brought it to work and I read it and laughed. But later, when I read it again I thought...it's perfect. It may be the most perfect card I've ever gotten. So it sits... on my desk at home and I laugh every time I see it, and I show it people who come over. And they agree that it is perfect.

Christmas shorts:
The daily drive home from daycare...or what I call "The Center". I happily take the detour every day because his joy touches deep roots in my Christmas soul. It feeds my holiday freak every day.

Oddly enough, wrapping presents late last night while my husband lay sick on the couch next to me also fell into the category of good stuff. The Christmas freak and the nurturing wife freak were both getting their fix of connecting to a moment. I love it when my husband needs me. Like...really needs me.

Homemade gifts ground me. Even though I always...always end up in a hot mess of panicked all nighters, I see the finish line and know that handing over a hand made gift feels just slightly better. The time I spend at a table crafting a gift is time I'm forced to slow down and re prioritize things. It feels good to choose to get in over my head on a gift.

MAN DOWN AT THE CRAFTING TABLE!!!

Work/career shorts:
These are tough these days because it is this 50+ hours a week that is driving the faster than the speed of light bus. It won't always be this way, but it will be for the next several years. Here, there are mere seconds where I can pause and feel the roots dig in and connect to a task, or a work center, or an accomplishment. But the second is over in a flash, replace by "great but...how do you make it better." It's good. It's tough...but it's good.

Family shorts:
Here is where I'm getting the most bang for my buck. My time with my daughters cannot fall into the "short" category. These days, my Autumn Zoe and my Annika Willow are my roots. The move and the change that came with it have bonded us together in a way that resembles their infancy. Right now, we are a team, every day, mother/daughters. There is open and honest dialogue, openness to my advice, a need for each other to remind us of our roots, our beliefs, our sense of what is right and what is not. Daily I feel Autumn reach out us for support when she is going to go against the norm at school and for now our support is all the strength she needs to stay true to herself.

For our family, these are good, strong days.

And then there is moving home, being near my parents, near my grandparents. There really aren't words to describe how right that was, how necessary for all of us. If you have been away from home for a spell, and are struggling with the thought of going back...do it. Everything is temporary, you can always leave again. But go home at least once.

And right now, in this very moment I'm uber connected. It is reason #1 I blog...to sit quietly and contemplate this life I'm living. I don't always publish what I write, but I always write. And regardless of what comes out, I'm always more grateful for this life after I've spent some time here.

Photo shorts ::

Oh the joys of little girls and little boys this time of year.

A perfect holiday short: One night, as I'm drinking eggnog out of my new thrift shop holiday mug, Autumn says, "I wish I had a big fun mug to drink hot chocolate out of."

BOOM! Another thrift shop find. It's a regular Christmas miracle.

Addiction short: Someday you will see me on Intervention as my family and friends desperately try to express how my addiction to little Laughing Cow cheeses has negatively effected them. This photo is a cry for help.

It's the holiday season, time for me to dig in and stop with the shorts. Time to take the time to pause and connect.

T minus 9 days until Christmas for us and however many days until you celebrate your seasonal connections. Dig in baby. XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO

super duper grumpy ( you asked for it Lisa E)

2011-11-30T21:28:00.001-06:00

It began this morning when I got halfway through my cardio work out and accidentally pulled the emergency stop button which shut down the tread mill. This wouldn't be such a big stink'n deal except I do this every freaking time. Every time. So I have to start over and do math to figure out distance and time and calories. Mostly just addition or subtraction but it's 5am and I really don't want to do math. I based my entire major on two things...what do I love and how do I not do math. So...

Also during my run, I lost a battle to ignore the very persistent and worsening pain in my right heal. I have been dismissing it as a mild case of plantar fasciitis, but there is now significant swelling. This makes me pissy. I have finally carved out some time for myself, to work off my lovely lady lumps...and I have aches and pains interfering.

I can't do regular push ups anymore because of my arthritis and carpel tunnel. And none of this is 40s fault, I've been dealing with this stuff since I turned 30.

Moving on. I'm not proud to tell you that recently, I went out in public in sweat pants. Like...shopping. In sweat pants. Not yoga pants, gray sweat pants. First time since college and I promise you I don't look as cute in them as I did then. I wore them because I had to drive to Sioux Falls and they are more comfortable than jeans. ~~Sigh~~

Thus the working out.

Dressing myself is a special form of hell right now. Most days I will tell you that I do not regret abandoning healthy eating to inhale burgers, fries and thousands of Chipotle burritos while building my baby boy. But if you ask me right away in the morning while I'm trying to dress myself...I may punch you in the mouth. I have just enough meat and grease fat left from my 9 month binge eating extravaganza to make my clothes hang funny on me, but a bigger size looks worse. It's like I'm borrowing someone else's clothes, everyday. I know this because my own clothes would never show so much arm fat right?

My pants are 1 inch too short because the junk in my trunk is lifting them up an inch. We have taken to calling them "nerd pants".

Also, now that my beautiful daughters are helping with laundry, all my clothes get dried completely. So all my work shirts look like barbie shirts and I do a "fat guy in a little coat" impression everyday. Or...they have shrunk into a lovely short, fat square shape. The length is an awkward belly button length, the sleeves 3/4 lengthy and two of me could side by side in the shirt box.

Everyday.

This is what made me super, duper grumpy this morning.

This is what made that all go away:

My mom's hysterical laughter as I told her why I was grumpy.
Baby Marshall screaming at the ceiling fan.
Submitting LOTS of flex claims just in time to get LOTS of fun money for Christmas shopping.
Liam running around in tighty whiteys.
My husband coming home.

Grumpy day over. Let's look at some pictures:

::

It's no wonder I am so very rarely sponge bob grumpy pants.

Sweet Thanksgiving faces

Sweet Thanksgiving rituals. Thankful for having a little boy in my life even if it means a little extra junk in my trunk:) Thankful for all the little extra bits of good stuff that balances out super duper grumpy days.

So much for grumpy, his rule was short lived today. And how did a "grumpy" blog end up being a "thankful" blog? Easy...see above:)

G'Night. XOXOXOXOXOXOXO

thanksgiving eve

2011-11-23T22:26:00.001-06:00

It feels good to be this tired and know I'm right at the beginning of a 4 day weekend. And it's the best kind of tired, tuckered out from a hard day at work. The worst kind of tired is "i cannot stay asleep past 3am" which I did on Monday. "Hard work" tired = a beer, a night of guiltless blog stalking, carry out food and falling asleep on the couch watching crappy tv. Ahhhhhh.

But first, a little Thanksgiving bloggity blog. This year I thought, rather than reflect on the Thanksgiving holiday 3 days from now, when I'm burned out from traveling and all "holiday road trip tired", I would do a little looking ahead...to what is coming.

An early morning departure, to ensure we arrive at the farm by 1pm. I love getting up early to hit the road. Since we moved back to South Dakota, I've seen more stunning sunrises than I can remember. I've stood on the breaks on the highway, jumped out of the van and taken photos about once a week. It's the same stretch of road every morning and it if you can make a sunrise date, it never fails to deliver.

I can't tell you now much I look forward to these fall weekends at home. I'm so in love with our house here. I still super love our home in Minneapolis, but let's face it...it doesn't have a studio like addition with 25 windows. I open every blind, make tea, fire up the computer and wait for the sun to come up. So I'm looking forward to a few more of these before this view is blanketed in white.

No snow yet in the tropical southern most tip of South Dakota. I told my husband winter is weird here, more freezing rain than snow and when the snow comes, it tries to kill you via travel. Then it melts. And then the freezing rain again and so it goes and so it goes. So far, just one day of freezing rain. The rest is still gorgeous fall romps in the leaves. So far.

Remember the wonderful canopy of leaves I wrote about when we first arrived? The show those trees put on this fall has been pretty incredible. Walls of leaves almost as tall as Annika, 60 bags worth. Trying to keep up with the blizzard of fall leaves is futile. Rather than beat them...we opted to just join them.

And really, that is all one should do in the fall. Work a little, play alot...before winter sets in and things like sewing, art projects and game nights take over. So much to look forward to,but we let's not rush into things, we must stay present so as not to miss a thing.

There just isn't anything more important than your "people", whoever that is for each of us. And that is what I am most thankful for this year. My people. My family people, my work people, my small people, new people, old people. I need them all and appreciate them all so much. I appreciate YOU so much. This little blog hit over 10,500 page views this week...crazy.

I am also thankful for this superman t-shirt. I cannot wash it fast enough. I would put this on him everyday if it weren't so strange to do so. What is it about this shirt?

It's time for the "fall asleep on the couch watching deliciously crappy TV" portion of the night. We never make time to watch TV so when I have this opportunity I relish it! Here's to hoping there is a marathon of SVU on:)

If you travel tomorrow, I pray you have a safe journey. Be Thankful, do your best, eat chocolate, laugh, smile, smell the flowers, sip wine, love deeply & bask in the sun.

XOXOXOXOXO!

40

2011-11-16T09:41:00.001-06:00

hump day nuggets: little bits of the season in photos and words about the last week. Encouraged to steal this idea from Dig This Chick because she is awesome blossom.

Actually, these are birthday nuggets. My 40th birthday nuggets. And easily the most special nuggets yet.

I'm not sure how other women feel about turning 40. I've never asked someone. I know that for some reason the retail/ commercial image of turning 40 includes lots of black decor and really awful naked 20 year old men cards mocking your inability to score them because you are..old. Funny...I seem to be scoring all over the place with my 20 something man. ~blush~

I have been super excited about my 40s for a long time. True story. Even in my 20's when I was fully and blissfully submerged in college life, I knew my 40's would be better. The later part of my 20's was a brutal reality check after the never never land that is college. Really far away from home for the first time should have been an adventure, but with a baby on board and a low paying job it was more like survival. I knew FOR SURE my 40's would be better.

I never thought about my thirties really. Not until I reached my 30th birthday and hit a wall of disappointment. For the entire week of my birthday I suffered a early life crisis. I had not gone to law school, or lived in a van while traveling the country, or moved to another country or done a tour with the Peace Corps. I had two kids and a divorce on my life resume. I did not give myself credit for building a career or surviving a divorce with a strong relationship with my x husband in tact or the beautiful human beings I had brought into the world. Nope, for that week, I was a total, miserable failure.

And then... it was over. And what replaced my pitty party was absurd drive and determination to do everything myself always. To never need anyone to provide emotional or financial support ever again and I would be the master of my universe at all costs.

This was good. It was the only way I survived until 35. It was not very conducive to having any relationships and today I formally apologize to anyone who was trying so hard to be close to me then. I was a terrible friend. But I was taking care of business, bringing home the bacon and frying it up in a pan. I wrapped my arms around my girls and my job and kept them close to me in my hard candy shell. Brandon was there, but I worked very hard to protect him from responsibility, not because he shied away from it, but because I had to do it myself...for myself.

Looking back I wonder what his perspective is on that time. I've never asked him. I've asked him why he stayed. Apparently, he knew, we were his family.

It was around 35 that I remembered I had my 40's to look forward to and when I really started to fantasize about how glamorous and sexy my 40s would be. How I'd have all my shit together, my emotional shit and my financial shit. I'd have a home I owned and cars that were paid for. I wouldn't live on credit cards between checks and I'd be at the top of my career.

I would love and be loved. I would be open to any and all levels of friendship. I would be a good friend, a thoughtful friend. I would be confident and secure.

Guess what. I was right. I'm 40 today and it's all true. It's even better. It's better because from 35 to today, I learned to ask for help. I've learned to put my heart in someone else's care and trust it would be nurtured and protected. I've learned that time with my family, working in a garden, canning and video games make me happy. I've discovered photography and writing. I learned to cry in front of people, both in moments of joy and sadness, something my 30 year old self would have seen as weak. As a matter of fact, I've cried more in the last 5 years than in the previous 35 years combined, and I'm the happiest I've ever been. Life is crazy.

I'm still learning to be a good friend. Hang in there, those of you still trying so hard...it's coming along.

Thank you, all of you who loved me through my 20s and 30s, especially those who kept telling me this day would come. Who believed for me for those years in my 30s when I doubted. And thank you to those of you who have found me now, later in our lives. Those shiny new friendships and old friendships renewed are my growth now. Such beautiful people!

Birthday Nuggets baby. Best...birthday...ever.

::

My people came to celebrate. They surprised me at work. They said they came to celebrate me and that the theme for the weekend would be:

"Life is messy, but you make it beautiful"

Surprise birthday weekend events followed suite:

beautifully lazy mornings

favorite cupcakes from favorite city bakery

spot on music mix

big family dance party

Surly

Jewelry

Brother/Sister tattoos

This is the "Life is Messy" necklace that inspired the tattoos. And like the tattoo, it may never come off my body:

Awesome toddler sleep over!

My people.

And it's only 2pm on this, the day of my birth. There just may have to be more nuggets tomorrow. With my people...you never know.

Happy 40th to me & happy day to you. XOXOXOXOXOXOXO

rambling flow of thought and speech

2011-11-01T22:28:00.004-05:00

From Desk Reference to the Diagnostic Criteria from DSM-3-R (American Psychiatric Association, 1987):

Caffeine-Induced Organic Mental Disorder 305.90 Caffeine Intoxication

Recent consumption of caffeine, usually in excess of 250 mg. -

At least five of the following signs:

restlessness

nervousness

excitement

insomnia

flushed face

diuresis

gastrointestinal disturbance

muscle twitching

rambling flow of thought and speech

tachycardia or cardiac arrhythmia

periods of inexhaustibility

psychomotor agitation

Not due to any physical or other mental disorder, such as an Anxiety Disorder.

For three hours last Wednesday, I thought I was going crazy. I sat on the floor of my basement with Liam. He played cars and I cried. At first he would hug me and say "oh baby." But after about an hour, he just brought all his toys next to his mess of a mother in the middle of the floor, and played quietly.

But I wasn't going crazy. I was in the throws of a coffee house opening induced caffeine overdose. The list is an accurate description of me those three hours. By the time Brandon got home, I had convinced myself I could not go upstairs, because there was too much up there. Too many responsibilities, too much noise, a cell phone that wouldn't shut up. But the basement was quiet and peaceful, full of nothing but toys, my baby boy and me.

rambling flow of thought and speech

This dominated my caffeine psychosis and was the reason I just knew I had snapped and would never go back to being a fully functioning person. There was no flow or organization of my thoughts. A flood of fears, spilling forth in tears and words. Some completely irrational, some logical but out of my control (think...meteors slamming into earth) and some very raw fears of suddenly dying, leaving behind the people and life I love so much.

I felt deep sadness.

I felt lonely.

rambling flow of thought and speech

My dear husband listened to me for an hour. His always calming way brought some quiet to my mind and slowly, perspective returned.

I don't know if everything happens for a reason, but I feel like it's true. It may have been the caffeine overdose that started this flow of thought and speech. But it DID start it, this purge. And I feel a little lighter, having shed 3 hours of tears and sharing that rambling flow of thought and speech with my husband.

This is my first experience with grief and the grieving process. I had no idea there were so many levels to pass through on the way to a new normal. That so many thoughts and feelings would become intertwined and pull new ones to the surface to deal with.

I have always had a wicked hard candy shell to protect me from this stuff. But this year has exposed a major crack in my armor. Try as I might, I can no longer push aside feeling uncomfortable emotions, they will find me whether I like it or not. And that is good.

::

Since my big OD I've experienced some old school peace. Not the kind of the last year, hard earned and scarce.
Nope, this was good old fashioned look up find it everywhere.
Peace in:

Puppy eyes

Fall

Winterizing the garden

Finding the perfect costume for Liam

Babies in Halloween costumes

Planning spring's colors Firing up the sewing machine And this...is the view from my home everyday.

Here is to hoping you are all looking up and finding your own versions of peace everyday. XOXOXOXO

You know what is NOT peaceful? Crazy formatting>< My apologies for the terrible spacing in tonight's post, but I cannot waste anymore brain power trying to fix it.

anniversary nuggets

2011-10-19T23:05:00.000-05:00

hump day nuggets: little bits of the season in photos and words about the last week. Encouraged to steal this idea from Dig This Chick because she is awesome blossom.

I'm coming live to you from Anniversary High. A location I almost missed due to the minuscule emphasis my husband and I put on "special" days.

It's always been this way, beginning with a mutual dislike for Valentine's Day and an agreement to always boycott it. Somehow all other holidays sort of fell into a semi boycott category by default. Never in regard to the kiddos...just each other.

Maybe it's simply laziness, an excuse to not have to remember and therefore acknowledge these personal holidays. The truth is most of our 9 years together we have been too broke to make much out of any day. And of course this intentional ignoring of these small special days does fly in the face of our whole "VIVA LA FAMILIA!" vibe. But I'm comfortable with that because it frees me from expectations. I can deliver a random memorable day...grown organically from spontaneous goodness. I kind of suck at delivering a planned and well executed "special day" for someone. Not a point of pride, but a fact.

So... consistent with the previous 3 years, we forgot our wedding anniversary. Had we not gotten a card addressed to both of us (which sent us into a tailspin of pondering) we would probably not have remembered this...the exact date of our wedding. Even after opening the card we couldn't quite pin down the exact date, or how many years. We agreed on 3, but the card said "On your 4th Anniversary". We stand corrected.

But.. we did get the card (thank you Grandma Karen!!!) and that spontaneous realization of what day this was, created a memorable night. Unplanned and unorchestrated, we went on a date. I told Autumn mom and dad needed her to watch the baby while we celebrated something we didn't know 24 hours ago. She loved it. She helped me curl my hair and do my makeup. She let me borrow her dress and brought me my boots.

The energy of the moment, mom running in barking orders about pizzas, dishes, baby bathes and dogs while peeling off work clothes. The excitment of two daughters realizing that their parents were going to DO SOMETHING TOGETHER!!!

Annika ran in the bathroom with a tarnished rhinestone butterfly necklace Great Grandma Wattier gave to her:

"Here mom...you can wear this tonight."

I did.

::

The Nuggets are slim pickings this week because all I've been doing is this:

I'm not complaining, it's all good in the hood. I'm just saying the energy surrounding this project has reached a fever pitch and it is eating us all alive. I am too excited.

I don't post pictures of myself often because...why would I? Behind the lens is the place to be. I'm making an exception to illustrate my excitement for my new iPhone 4S.

Who loves their new phone the most?

this chick

Anniversary food porn. But not much because I promised my husband I would focus. So I got the beginning:

And the end:

And finally, my favorite nugget of the week. My little baby nugget in the hat that may be forever on his head. He loves this hat like nothing else...ever. Thank God it's adorable.

I've been wanting to start a side blog. A photo a day for a year blog. In memory of my Aunt Maria. I can't explain why, except to say that it is just in me and needs to get out.

I'm not promising groundbreaking photography. Just things that I see everyday and want to share with her.

I'm hoping this expedites the healing process.

And honors her legacy.

"love really does make all the difference"

If you are interested you can find it at:

http://wingsformaria.blogspot.com/

Happy Anniversary baby.

Bloglovin?

2011-10-18T08:48:00.001-05:00

Follow my blog with Bloglovin

Sounds kind of bossy...I know. But I'm trying this Bloglovin thing out so ....help a sister out okay?

Thanks a bunches!!! XOXOxOXOXo

Oh and Hump Day Nuggets for sure tomorrow:)

moving forward

2011-10-09T12:48:00.003-05:00

Wow. Just...wow. My feet hurt, unfamiliar muscles ache, my house has that clean but destroyed from a constant flow of people look, other people's things are laying about after a frantic departure yesterday morning, leftover party food in the fridge and my entire family is still asleep. I'm exhausted...but my heart is full from it all. It's a familiar feeling I had hoped I could get to here in this new place. And like every bit of joy this year, I had to work hard to earn it. It's a tough year, but the lessons I'm learning are life changing. How did we get here again?

60 days of "settling in", unpacking and feeling out where we are and how we fit into this new place.

One last trip to Minneapolis to clear out our house to get it ready for the lovely family that will move in and fill it with their own brand of family energy. It was a task I took very seriously, I want to hand them a home, not just a place to crash for the next year or so. They may be renting, but it's their home for as long as they live there. And it's a great home, I'm so pleased they will be the family to take care of it. It is really a match made in heaven, this family, our house and us. Even though we had only communicated through email over the last several weeks, when they entered the house, it was hugs instead of handshakes. It was laughter, smiles and fast, lively chatter, questions about each other's children and lives. It was marveling about how the universe brought them to the craigslist ad I posted and all the signs that this was meant to be.

I was surprised how heavy my heart was as we did a final walk through the house. Happy to be handing it over, but realizing that I really really miss my kitchen window, with the bird house view. And I miss getting ready in the morning in my bathroom with the window wide open, listening to the traffic and airplanes. I was always aware that people were cruising over my house, on their way to somewhere. That energy I was constantly bombarded by when we lived there, felt good as a visitor.

No regrets, but lots of reminders of why I love that house and that city.

That is how we got here. At the point where we are finally, officially, fully here. And to celebrate this commitment to being 100% vested in our new gig, we brought our style of crazy to the University of South Dakota homecoming weekend. Enthusiastic, loud, unorganized, go with the flow, face painting, dancing, the more the merrier style. Gather people together and see what happens, no expectations, no pressure. Just have fun with it.

Liam brought his grumpy, screaming baby face and Annika her oh so angsty and embarrassed by her parents face. Brandon brought his confused but patient daddy face and I my endless enthusiasm for all things cheesy, like parade mixes on the ipod and spontaneous dancing...face. It was us through and through, so now they know, this is how the Schapekahms roll. Usually a little late.

A party, a parade and a college football game. All at the end of an insane work week. And a week that included pink eye and a couple of kids with colds. Yup, full heart, tired, tired body.

My Week by Fricka

Giving the house a new "do" for her new family.

Brandon wants me to tell you they were in this position for 6 hours that day, head and arms up. Never put wall paper on a ceiling.

Wallpaper is truly the work of the devil. Seriously, what kind of NASA space glue is used to put this on?

Thank God for my girl...she always pulls through.

But for every ying, there's a yang. For every craptastic home improvement project, there is family improvement time.

Liam needed some Cece time. The second we pulled into the driveway at 11pm, he knew we where we were exclaiming "Cece!!!"

It did my heart good to see both babies settled back in the loving arms of my broski for the weekend.

Even the tub is fun when you visit Cece.

Back in South Dakota we are submerged in Fall Fabulous.

And how do you make fall fabulous more fabulouser? Enter Daddy coming home from work:

Mommy thinks it's pretty awesome when daddy comes home too. Just saying...

Which brings us to the last couple of days. The days we became joiners, part of our new community. A coming out of sorts. I picked my comfort zone... fall, floats, parades and football.

And Oh My God...to see my babies invite their new friends over! There may or may not have been a moment that I snuck away to shed a happy tear.

To see my family welcome new people into our home, our lives. It felt good.

Angsty

I had another tear filled moment though, taking photos. I again recalled the time before we moved, when I realized how different my photos would look from now on. And indeed, here were a bunch of beautiful new faces to capture. But the faces that were missing would have been such a perfect match for the activity and I missed them all day long. And I sent them a text telling them as much. And they...sent me their faces:)

In conclusion, life is good. I leave you with the picture that sums up the spirit of the weekend...

Have a peaceful, lovely Sunday. XOXOXOXOXOXO

late night mcnuggets

2011-09-28T22:41:00.005-05:00

I'm slipping them in right under the wire, but it's still HUMP day, so these are still...

hump day nuggets: little bits of the season in photos and words about the last week. Encouraged to steal this idea from Dig This Chick because she is awesome blossom.

Yup cutting it soo close and eyes sliding shut every time I pause to put a thought together. It's not that I have so much to say tonight or that the little I have to say is so mind blowing it can't wait. But the the baby is asleep, the tweenager's homework is done and the teenager doesn't have any. It's rare I have a moment like this at 9:45pm, no one tugging at my arm needing something.

This precious free hour or two has many "have tos" competing for priority. I could do a couple loads of laundry. Or clean the slobbery Calvin faces off my glass front doors. I could pack for our trip this weekend or clip the dog's nails. Or finally put away the clean clothes laying around my bedroom.

As it is, the only other thing I almost did, was go over to the couch to cuddle with Annika while she watches one of my favorites...Big Fish. If you've not seen this movie, please try to. If you have parents, or loved the stories your grandparents told you, or love the story of your own life...love this movie. It's one of my favorites.

In the last 12 months, in the midst of life changing loss and oh so many moments to reflect on what I was supposed to learn from it, I made the very deliberate decision to stop doing tasks when life gave surprise "free time". I have stopped killing those fleeting moments with pointless chores, focusing instead on filling those bits of time with life. Sweet, peaceful, lovely life.

late night mcnuggets

I got behind camera this weekend to spend a few hours with the most beautiful little family on their farm. I jumped at the chance to put on some boots and meander around their homestead at sunset. I felt a little rusty as I have not done a shoot in months, but inspired by the familiar sites and sounds of the country and the easy way this little family's love came through my camera.

I even got to take a bit of the farm home with me:)

::

Hump day nuggets is losing the battle for this precious free time. My favorite scene is coming up...the one where everyone from the fantastical stories come to his funeral and his son suddenly knows his father.

My husband is reading in bed, I'd be crazy not to snuggle in next to him and fall asleep listening to his deep voice tell me about what he is reading. I love my time here with words and photos. I could stay, and try, but...I'd rather go snuggle.

And...these are meant to simply be "nuggets":)

Good night.

XOXOXOXOXOXO

my salvation

2011-09-24T11:06:00.000-05:00

Today, let's start with the music recommendation. For your peaceful reading pleasure I bring you...

I'm a lyrics girl and these, my friends, are some of the best.

"in your love...my salvation lies in your love"

My salvation may also lie in these baby toes.

And in watching my children grow and try difficult things on their own.

Like brushing his teeth.

Like being the bravest "new girl" I know and joining in...sticking it out...even if others haven't quite realized how fabulous you are yet.

But fabulous she is. The fab radiates from this one...my first baby.

And I know my salvation lies in this smile.

The chill in the air, the gathering of the last veggies and canning, the football, halftime shows and homecoming parades. The perfect outfit of a skirt, tights, soft leather boots, light jacket and a hand made scarf. Fall. We are right at the sweet beginning of it, the most divine days of the year. For the next 90ish days, I will refuse to hurry through these days. I will stretch them out and milk them for every single drop of autumn sunshine, every falling leaf.

I will take a zillion pictures of a zillion perfect moments because fall never fails to deliver them.

From Sept. 24 Blog

"When I am alone

When I've thrown off the weight of this crazy stone

When I've lost all care for the things I own

That's when I miss you, that's when I miss you, that's when I miss you

You who are my home

And here is what I know now

Here is what I know now

Goes like this

In your love, my salvation lies

in your love"

Happy Fall. XOXOXOXO

hump day nuggets...SD style

2011-09-14T05:00:00.002-05:00

hump day nuggets: little bits of the season in photos and words about the last week. Encouraged to steal this idea from Dig This Chick because she is awesome blossom.

I loooov "Hump Day Nuggets" over at Dig This Chick (grab more morning beverage and head over there...I'll wait) and was pretty thrilled when she tossed out the challenge to do our own nuggets. Who doesn't love borrowing a great idea? I would never...ever have done it had she not given the green light, it's too good an idea to attempt to float as my own.

Plus, I'm a terrible thief. Remember the shoplifting phase girls (some) go through in junior high? I could never do it, instead I played the role of "look out" or the "distractor", but really I was playing the role of scaredy cat, chichen shit. I'm okay with that:P

So, no stealing here, just using an awesome idea to break up the week and pop in without the need for a long post.

Just some hump day huggets.

Remember before the move, when I was waxing poetic about change and Christmas present houses and walks with my mom? And how the photos here would surely change and shape shift into...what? I didn't know yet then. Well I do now:)

Photo Nuggets:

A lot has changed since we moved. Some good. Like lots of safe neighborhood space and yard to run in.

Lots of reasons to wear Woody and Bullseye cowboy boots.

A large prairie style lawn for B to putz around in. So much better than the small, terraced city yard that requires cleets to scale the steep inclines.

Yep....a guy can sure stretch his legs out here.

And apparently a dog can too. This is an example of "bad change"...very bad change. Suddenly Baby Cal thinks he can sneak on our bed in the middle of the night. I totally busted him.

Bitter sweet change. It is no bueno that this picture is in the minority for the first time since The Nerd Herd blog was born:( It does make those less frequent redevous the most special trips ever, but now when Liam is in the car for more than a few blocks, he asks "Cecece?" It breaks my heart every time I have to tell him "not this trip baby".

There is family here though and we are all over the moon about getting to know them and mixing and mingling our families. There are no expectations of how our families should mix or that they need to embrace our craziness. No attempt to recreate the chemistry of our Minneapolis family, rather the thrill of growing new relationships organically and not knowing where our hearts will connect. There is just palpable joy and the promise of whatever the future brings to all of us.

And for me, the constant reassurance that this move was the right thing to do.

::

Liam is star struck by his new football heroes.

And my mom can't turn around without a grandbaby waiting to tuck in for a hug.

And we are taking those walks I dreamed of while packing up our city house in the stifling heat. Though in the interest of telling it like it is...recent walks haven't been the stuff of happy rainbow blogs.

Lots of sour faces from Lum. At 2, he is definately NOT a good walker. He only wants to run, or crash is trike into cars. Walks have become stressful.

Which equals sour faces from my baby girls.

But he thinks his new "pack pack" is the bomb baby.

::

We are all loving the massive intake of football. Last weekend - 4 football games in less than 24 hours. Suddenly our wardrobes have changed as well.

And... speaking of wardrobes, an old high school friend held good on a FB promise to send a handmade gift to the first 5 posters to respond, but we had to promise to do the same. And look what I got in the mail this week:

The high today is supposed to be 54 degrees. 54 DEGREES!!!!! Oh yeah, I will be debuting this beauty for sure! And if you were one of my first 5...I promise my hand made gifts are in the works:)

Happy Hump Day:)

a declaration

2011-09-05T23:49:00.002-05:00

It's official, we have a first day of school curse.

Two years ago...two heads of lice. Compliments of an "epidemic" in the Minneapolis school system.
Last year...Annika was home on the first day of school due to yuckiness.

This year...a freak accident involving a backed up main drain, two inches of water on the basement floor and a running naked post shower teenager resulted in this:

While Miss Annika posed excitedly for her first day of middle school:

Miss Autumn sat with her fresh stress fracture on ice.

To be immediately followed by this: rashy, pukey, strep throat.

Between the slip and slide fun and the strep throat, we did manage to get a first day of school photo:

But I think we are both calling tomorrow her first official day of high school. This is Autumn's first major do over and has she earned it.

If you think of it, send a little love her way today. It's not easy being the new kid in school especially when you puked in the hallway on the 3rd day:(

Sometimes, despite best intentions and love and joy...stress stays and takes a seat at the celebration table. The bastard sits at the table and refuses to let us forget...even for a moment. Forget loss and frustration...refusing to let one bask in the bright light of living in the moment. The blinding joy that sends you into orbit. If you've ever truly just paused to take in what is going on around you.. without regard for what is next, without planning what comes after, you have ridden that light into orbit. And stress hates it when you learn to do that. It wants you to worry, fear, fret and stew, it needs you to because without that kind of control, it's powerless.

I say this only because I was so hopeful the girls would have an amazing first day of school and we recently had a kick ass weekend, and stress tried it's best to take a seat at both tables. We beat it back again and again, but it keeps coming. And as passive aggressive is NOT my style, I feel like I need to take this opportunity to publicly declare war on stress and all his minions (broken pipes, stress fractures, mystery rashes, late party starts, lost phones, water, water everywhere).

I just declared war on ...stress. What is that? A feeling? A thing? A condition? Anyway....war on stress. Can I get an amen?

Launching my first missile....BAM!

A gaggle of insanely cute babies. Specifically...our babies.

Regardless of their age, I call them our babies. I suppose it could be said that their reaching each milestone means they earn the right to be called something else. But it doesn't feel right to me. Breast milk or orange Fanta, curled up peacefully in a sling or begging for a Vespa, playing in my makeup or wearing it...she is my baby. They are our babies. Their ability to venture away from us, does not change the fact that they are from us. And as often as they will leave us, they are welcome to return to that safe familiar spot in the "sling" whenever they need to.

Our babies are communal babies. It takes a village right?

Despite stress's best efforts, we gathered our families to celebrate my Grandfather's 90th birthday. 90th.

Look at this handsome devil and his stunning bride:

They have been married for 67 years. 67. Of all the things they have taught me, what I still need to learn is how they did that.

On the way home, I asked B "If I live to be 90, how long will we be married?" 54 years. Can a modern day marriage, founded in 2007 survive 54 years? If anyone's can, ours can. I feel that in my soul. And if it doesn't, no one will be more surprised than us.

For the record, this was us when we first met:

It will be interesting to see what we will look like after 54 years together. Stay tuned.

So we gathered once again at the farm, each from our own separate corners of the universe. More separated now than just 30 days ago, when two of our families could share the ride if we wanted to. We move away, we come home...we leave again. And even as the miles expand and contract, the relationships grow and grow. And much as that bastard STRESS would like to find the crack in our armor and make one of these expanding and contacting cycles detrimental...he won't. because we always, always come home.

This trip home, my little Aries tomboy found her farm groove big time. She has been desperate to leave the city and live closer to nature for as long as I can remember. Remember her fishing peace ?

And now this:

Like a fish to water, there was not a moment's hesitation. Uncle Chad took over with BB gun safety 101 and she was a sponge. And a pretty damn good shot.

Followed by a little toad and snake catch and release.

Calling her in at dusk, to wash up and get ready for some serious card playing reminded me so much of my own childhood on the farm. There was even popcorn and Lawrence Welk. You think I'm making this up...but I'm not.

As long as the farm is here, someone will bring their babies here to learn how to catch a tree frog. Someone will make popcorn and find Hee Haw on TV. Someone will take their cousin, niece, nephew, mom , dad, brother/sister in law for a sunset walk down the lane. Beers in hand.

And stress...can bite me.

XOXOXOXOXOXOXO

You put a big bird in a small cage and it'll sing you a song. patrick watson

2011-08-17T23:39:00.002-05:00

No woman 3 months shy of 40, up to her eye balls in "new" and still carrying extra weight from the baby she "just" had (24 months ago) needs to have access to a Sam's Club sized box of strawberry Pop Tarts and several pounds of butter left over from the Christmas cookie free for all. Can you visualize this?

Yes, I put butter on my frosted Pop Tarts. Don't judge. Just rescue me from the giant box of tasty goodness.

First, a disclaimer. I'm attempting to type this with a right hand that feels like it's wearing a shoe. And it is about as useful a hand covered with a shoe would be. A tight, mind blowingly painful shoe. I've always struggled with the Carpel Tunnels, but since my pregnancy with the Lum...I've stopped struggling and am just in full time suffering mode. I couldn't tell you if I actually have a thumb, pointer and middle finger on my shoe had...I haven't felt them since November 2008.

I say this only to explain what may or may not happen moving forward. Either I will cease to correct typing/spelling errors...which could be great fun. Or the blog will consist of photos accompanied by poetic key mashing from the Lumowitz. Also great fun.

And the next time Blooger decides I need to highlight and delete ALL the text in the post, instead of the 2 or 3 words I've selected to delete...I'm going to star the world on fire.

I love living here.

Just two weeks in and I'm overwhelmed with the feeling that we so made the right choice. That this is home. I didn't expect that.

I didn't expect to equate the quiet with peace. I thought more along the lines of sleepy and maybe even boring. The buzz of the city, I thought that was keeping me going. But now I wake up to towering trees in our yard, creating a giant canopy of gently filtered sun, the song of a morning dove and a gentle breeze. I can hear the leaves in that breeze.

Not the freeway, or airplanes or even the familiar sounds of weekend activities on Lake Nokomis. Those were wonderful city sounds to be sure, but I know now I was ready for some peace.

In the city there is always someone around. Always. Coming and going by foot, plane and car. No city ever really sleeps. I needed a break from the constant barrage of hundreds of thousands of human beings tossing their energy about. But I didn't realize it until about 4 days into this adventure. On day 4 I saw the darkest night sky I've seen in years and felt an entire community settle down and rest. And I'm pretty sure I felt my soul settle down and rest too.

Now...I sleep in late, because I don't wake up here. Liam sleeps all night. From the moment we first stepped foot in this house, he has been home. On our first visit he ran into the giant office and said "I'M HOME!" Babies are creepy smart that way, they feel all energies and they know.

And now I know.

My yard knows I'm here and it's trying so hard to show me the potential it has. Because of the late summer move, the yard was left to fend for itself until we got here. It was overgrown and sad. It was afraid it had been abandoned. But my other mother and I spent an early morning sunrise cleaning it out. 5 lawn bags full of neglect. And it is sooooo grateful.

My yard is speaking to me.

Look what I can do! Here is one tiny tomato plant in the big empty garden plot.

And one stalk of sweet corn!

You like raspberries? Here you go!

This yard knew I was sad to not grow food for my family this year. Sad that I threw down wild flowers in the dirt that last year grew a bumper crop of peppers.

So it grew me a flower.

And a treat for my baby.

From August 10 2011 blog

And here...use this in your salsa.

And hiding under this mass of vines, running the entire length of my backyard? Concord grapes.

I guess I will make jelly this year.

I'm sleepy.

Cue some Patrick Watson and hit the hay. You won't regret it. Start with this:

XOXOXOXOXOXO

booyah

2011-08-02T23:32:00.001-05:00

Dear Diary -
Tonight I made a delish meal in our new house and called my mom to come over for dinner. Because I can:) Because we live in the same town. Booyah.

I've written the opening sentence to this blog post no fewer than 50 times. It's been 27 days since my last blog post. Well, one that wasn't a photo challenge. Anyway, it's not a big deal. To the world I mean. It's not even that big a deal to those that check in here once in a while. Most of them (you) know me and know that I moved to another planet. Sometimes it feels that way. But it's a cool planet and my parents live here, so that's nice.

So yeah, in the grand scheme of things, 27 days without a blog post from the leader of the nerd herd is no biggy. Except to her (me).

If you blog, you do it for a reason. For the emotional outlet, the attention, the creative outlet, the sharing, the crafting, the adoration of your doting mother who thinks you are the most brilliant writer since writing was invented. Unless of course you have a fantabulous skill like sewing or baking and photography and you really do have something amazing to teach the world. That is not why I blog (see reasons before having a skill).

For me blogging is a joyous mental dump of what is in my heart, my mind and often my camera. I honestly started doing it strictly for myself. I wanted to somehow preserve the flow of positive energy that comes from my babies and my husband. My cousin brothers and their families. My parents, my Aunts. The city, the farm. About the same time I started this blog, I edited my Facebook profile "about me" section to simply read

"I am happy"

For reasons unknown to me still, I felt a push to document joy. Love. Support. Family. Positive energy. Cheese.

And then...things changed. As they do. And so much was lost and suddenly I was documenting things that were so very different. Sadness. Loss. Heartache. Strength. Courage. Tears. Fear. Change.

And still there was Joy. Love. Support. Family...cheese.

In the last 27 days, we've plowed through a change that was somewhat unplanned and fairly spontaneous. I abandoned my career to come home. I asked my husband to do the same, to abandon his career and come home with me. To leave his home. I asked my kids to leave the first home they have known and first close friends they made and trust me when I told them this would be awesome. It feels good, it feels right, but it feels very different. For the first time in a long time, I'm intimidated by what's in front of me. Time to grow again. Life...phase 4.

Tonight, I write from my desk in my home office in the great state of South Dakota. I have 15 windows surrounding me in this office...it's incredible. Every night I sit here with the shades open, marveling at how dark it is in South Dakota. There are so many stars here. And they are so quiet. At times it does feel like another planet.

The only other thing I can see is the word "Inspire" hanging on the wall. Yes, time to grow again. Phase 4.

What I did this summer by Fricka...leader of the nerd herd.

I took my son out in a white onesie all the time because the heat of hell has come to the Midwest.

I let him plop in the kiddie pool in all his clothes for the very same reason.

I begged Grandma to come over every single weekend so we could pack.

I waited very impatiently for him to come home whenever he could.

I wished I hadn't unpacked 3 years ago.

I promised her she will be fine in her new school.

I dreamed of my new office in my new house.

I went to back to corporate school and learned corporate stuffs.

I laughed at muffin jokes.

And promised Baby Calvin his new house would fit him better. It does.

I ate way too many treats.

I made the trip to see, to paint and to move.

I came home.

I Heart Faces Photo Challenge - Water

2011-07-26T21:05:00.006-05:00

When you are from the midwest, summers = going "up north" or "to the lake". It's just a fact of summer life.

I give you a typical weekend in the midwest...I give you some "Fishing Peace".

For more "Water" summer fun...

I Heart Faces Photo Challenge - Water

the wheels on the bus are falling off

2011-07-06T00:14:00.013-05:00

Here is an interesting little thing I've learned about me and my kids since my loving husband has moved to South Dakota ahead of us. Without his patriarchal presence, there are no boundaries when it comes to the momma's personal space. My bed, my bathroom, the 1 foot space behind my office chair...are all open game to a child placing themselves in the space around me. It is simultaneously beautiful and maddening.

I hate not having my husband present. I had forgotten how crazy I am without him to calm me down and give me some perspective. When we are together, it's ying and yang baby. This life we have created, runs well only when we are a team. Everything is overwhelming when going it alone. Well not everything...but clogged sinks, drippy outside faucet are. Water features with broken pumps that now appear to only function as a breeding ground for mosquitoes make me feel as if the wheels are falling off the bus. Because normally, he would be here to work his boy magic and I wouldn't have to worry about them.

I want my husband back. I want my wife gig back!

I remind my self that in three weeks this will all be over. We will be together, in our new home (goosebumps!) And when that happens there will be part of me that misses the anticipation, the excitement and adrenaline that goes with big change like this. The house in Vermillion is like the mother of all Christmas presents...just waiting to be unwrapped. And I'm the little girl that sneaks down every morning to shake it, trying to figure out what exactly is inside. I don't know yet what our stuff looks like in that house or what our lives will look like, but I soon will.

I'll take what's behind door #624 Monty!

At whats coming...well it's almost more than I can wrap my head around. For the first time in my adult life, I will be living near my mom. She will be living less than an entire day's drive from her grandbabies. There will be pop ins and calls that go something like "hey we are going for a walk after dinner, wanna come?" The pictures here will completely change. We will be interwoven into the fabric our each other's daily lives. Yup...can't wrap my head around it.

In the meantime, I'm all over the map, trying to stay organized on all fronts. Work, babies, house, packing, new house, new job. What is getting lost in all this is time for this blog, which is fine, it's a hectic time. But all this stress, excitement and change only creates more thoughts, more things to say. But there is no time and all day long I think of things to write, tuck them away into a safe part of my brain. And just as I suspected those many months ago, they often disappear as I lose the nightly battle with sleep, crawling from my desk chair to the office couch.

My "edit posts" page is an outstanding list of two to three sentence observations, designed to trigger some blog post I stored away. Reading them alone is hilarious. When summer is over and life starts to settle into a quiet, peaceful, South Dakota routine, it will be fun to see if those blurbs inspire the blog posts they are intended to. Or will they simply be random thoughts, discarded for newer, shinier ones?

This summer's soundtrack is made up of The Tallest Man on Earth, Bon Iver, Feist and Fitz & The Tantrums. I <3 life soundtracks. Life soundtracks are my absolute favorite. The organic way the music weaves itself into the fabric of your life. For that snapshot in time, it is permanently part of the memory. Fire up a little Hall & Oats and I'm mowing the lawn at the farm with my first walkman on. Aldo Nova...and I'm choreographing my first dance...on roller skates. Aldo Nova = frozen Charleston chews and bright white skates with a pink puff on the toe. Sheriff "When I'm With You" = totally devastating junior high love. Radio dedications and slow dancing so close you melt into each other. ~sigh~

This topic needs it's own blog post.

So the soundtrack to the summer is in place and the slide show in my head...the flickering reel to reel of the summer of 2011 looks like this:

It's all there. The long cold spring, packing, grandma visits, birthday, clearance end cap pools and interpretive dance in the kitchen. The official drink of the summer of 2011 is the Leinenkugel's Summer Sampler Pack...cans. Because they stay cooler longer in the summer. Who knew?

The one year anniversary of The Nerd Herd blog is approaching. I miss those lazy days of spare time and emotional purging via blogger. I miss pausing and feeling...communicating. I will be so pleased when the constant tasking is over. Feeling and not just doing. It's happened here and there this summer. We will find a few more of those moments I'm sure.

I know better than to wish time away. Even in turmoil, there is beauty.

And interpretive dance in the kitchen.

Photo Challenge...Red, White & Blue

2011-07-05T12:35:00.002-05:00

I Heart Faces weekly photo challenge time again:) The 4th of July is a big holiday in my family and this cake is a staple of our celebrations. I cannot remember a year without it. It is part of our tradition, to leave our cities and gather at the farm. To wear cheesy matching red, white & blue t-shirts and spend too much money on South Dakota fireworks (thank you SD for your less restrictive laws). It is currently my mom's job to whip up this patriotic cake, but I'm next:)

Check out more fantastic, Red, White & Blue inspired photos at:

http://www.iheartfaces.com/2011/07/photo-challenge-red-white-blue/

waiting for a sign

2011-06-17T16:55:00.002-05:00

I played a little hookie today. Yesterday was the kind of work day that makes a Human Resource professional experience seller's remorse for ever recruiting anyone to work in their company. It's almost over.

So today I spent the afternoon alone. All by myself, by design. I watched two documentaries and cried from 12pm to 3pm. It was beautiful.

Very well known fact: I am terrible at having a career. I'm good at building one, but I feel like I pay a price. I'm terrible at making "making money" a priority. While I do not like having debt, I prefer to have just enough to have the things you need and a few you want. More than that complicates things. Messes with your priorities...fogs them up.

I say this because another known fact is that I have always felt the urge to do something...BIG. Something BIG for others. Watching those documentaries today brought that back to the forefront of my mind. In both, the individuals had transformed their lives from ones of comfort and excess to enough and altruism. In both cases, they took years to take the leap, to give up the lifestyle they had. "Finally I knew, that if I didn't I'd regret it for the rest of my life." That made me feel good. It is a nagging feeling within me, this feeling that I'm not quite on the right track. But I believe I will know when to change course, I will get a calling of sorts. I just know there is something out there that I'm supposed to do.

Does anyone else feel this way?

For now I funnel that energy into my kids. And recently photography has been an area where I can do something for people. People who cannot afford expense photo shoots, but who want to capture the beauty of their family. Or their children. Or themselves. The size of my heart expands ten fold when I'm shooting someone (EEEK! Is there a better way to say that?) I have a shoot tomorrow and I'm all warm and tingly planning for it.

Not much to say tonight. Just a little spill over from a kind of emotional afternoon alone. I feel like hugging the universe, smiling at the world. I'm full up with cheese.

And my husband is coming home tonight. I'm beaming.

Some photos left over from May to take us into a weekend.

Texting Uncle Barrett

Window are is totally cool at our house.

Liam has decided that taking his toys OUT of the toy box is dumb.

Add caption

Miss Annika "Willow" loves her trees:)

Have a great Friday night!

I Heart Faces Weekly Photo Challenge - Bright & Vivid

2011-06-14T15:34:00.001-05:00

It's been a while since I jumped into the I Heart Faces photo challenge, so busy! But I've been sneaking a peak and could not resist submitting this photo for the Bright & Vivid challenge.

I think this is the best baby blanket ever. To me, it is made of the dreams of the toddler who sleeps in it. The bright colors and fantastical animals go on wild adventures whenever he closes his eyes to sleep.

http://www.iheartfaces.com/