Jumping with my Fingers Crossed

Random-ness & Linking up with Mama Kat

2013-05-23T07:19:00.001-04:00

This week's vlog is full of random-ness, almost 32 random questions with random answers. Just like real life. And also just like real life, I answer those question where I spend my whole life, the minivan and the kitchen.

My kids were my question readers. We all learned some things. My kids learned really important things about their mother, things like if I would rather be attacked by a big bear or a swarm of bees. I learned that the back of my hair looks horrible. Seriously.

It seems silly and it is. It's random silliness.

Check it out and then make your own 32 Questions vlog or leave a comment answering one of the questions (click here for a full list of questions).
(If you are an email subscriber, click here http://youtu.be/SOWQzB5kS6s to watch the video.)

I linked up with Mama Kat's Vlog Prompts for all this randomness. Head on over to see some of the other vlogs and the amazing Mama Kat.

In case you missed it, here's the vlog from last week. The one where I impress, er, um, embarrass my kids with WhiteSnake.

(If you are an email subscriber, click here http://www.youtube.com/watch?feature=player_embedded&v=cfgvF-_yzQE to watch the video.)

And hey, check out this list I'm on with Chelsea Handler and Jimmy Fallon. Yup. Click here for the list.

Please subscribe to my YouTube channel if you haven't already. I have this crazy summer goal of getting 100 subscribers by August 1. If you haven't subscribed, please just click the little button and become a subscriber. Or share the channel with your friends.

Random quote about something random for the random post. Now I've typed and said "random" so many times in my head that it's starting to sound all crazy.

Daughters & What I Wore Wednesday

2013-05-22T08:10:00.001-04:00

I'm linking up with the pleated poppy's What I Wore Wednesday(wiww) again to talk fashion.

The other night, Lucy and I found ourselves home alone. No brothers. No Tim. Just us. I asked her if she wanted to help me pick out a dress to wear to a big fancy party. It turned into one of the best nights ever.

Having a daughter is this amazing, wonderful thing that terrifies me. Lucy is at a magical age, 9, where she is full of so much positive energy. She's confident. She's not worried about her legs or her hair or her teeth. She actually wants braces because they look cool. Do you remember that feeling?

She's at the age where I want to bottle up all that confidence and comfort, and save for all those moments when she starts questioning, well, um, everything. It will start with maybe a comment from a boy she likes or a girl she doesn't. Someone might say something about her hair or her eyes, or god forbid her gorgeous freckles, and she'll start doubting. She'll doubt her beauty and then her weight and then she'll start hating parts of herself.

Just thinking about it makes my stomach hurt and my heart ache.

Anxiety about her future anxiety is what made the other night so very good. It's what makes all the rare one-on-one moments we have as mother and daughter so very good.

They are opportunities to set an example. An example of fun, confidence and comfort. Fun with fashion and self expression. Confidence in myself and my choices. Comfort in my own skin.

I almost considered actually wearing this dress (it's vintage, circa 1991) to the fancy charity event.

While we played dress up and took pictures and made faces in the mirror together, we talked. We talked about what clothes we liked--we are both really into comfortable pants and bright colors. We talked about how being different is good. I told her the story of when I was in fifth grade I had a sticker that said "WEIRD" on my desk. And how when people would say "you're weird" I would point to the sticker and proudly say "thank you."

"Mom, you really are kind of weird," Lucy said after the sticker story.

"And still my reply is thank you," I told her while standing on a yellow chair in my old pink prom dress in a very Betsey Johnson kind of way, minus the cartwheel.

And we laughed and tried on more outfits. Like the line in the old Madonna song, we were dressing each other up in love.

Later that weekend, we played dress up again. This time it was at a 5K we ran together (a Girls on the Run event). We spray painted our hair, put ribbons on our shirts and had fun.

When I was getting ready to run the race I almost made a comment about my big legs, you know "ugh, I hate my huge legs, you'd think running so many miles would make my legs and butt smaller, god I'm embarrassed. " But then I looked down at my daughter with purple spray paint in her hair and remembered our night of fashion fun. A flash of what it felt like to be 9 came over me. All hopeful and curious and unaware of big thighs and mean people and unfair bosses and sleepless nights and boyfriend worries. And I remembered it's not just the comments about her that will change Lucy, it's the comments I make about my own body.

"You look so awesome with purple hair," I told her and she smiled from ear to ear.

In other fashion news, my color obsession has reached new heights...blue and orange and green, whaaa? Mixing and matching and loving it.

Cardigan: Old Navy circa 2008

Dress: Old Navy $11

Necklace: 31 BITS

Please leave a comment and let me know how you enourage your daughter and/or have fun with fashion.

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Click here to find out more about Girls on the Run.
Since I started doing the fashion link up with the pleated poppy'swhat i wore wednesdays (wiww). WWIW link up was started by blogger/business woman extraordinaire, Lindsey, as a "fun way for us to encourage each other to simply get dressed each day, and get out of our pj’s or yoga pants." I've thought more about fashion than, well maybe ever. And it's been fun (click here to read Color Popping). It's been therapeutic (click here to read about my Closet Therapy).

Love Stories

2013-05-20T08:12:00.001-04:00

One of the reasons I write a blog is to tell stories. Because telling stories is important. Because we all have stories. Because I want my kids to know their stories. Because I want to remember their stories--I want to remember how I felt when the kids were little, I want to remember when Wade couldn't say all his words and he said "backbard" instead of back yard, I want to remember the kitchen dances and even the tween eye rolls. It's our story.

Since I started this blog, I've had the privilege to help tell other people's stories. This past weekend, I was part of an event full of amazing people.

It was a night full of love stories.

This event was for an organization called Charlotte's Wings. The story behind this organization is a story of loss, a story of grief, a story of friendship,and hope and compassion and love. My friend Jo, lost her daughter to a rare genetic disease. Her friends rallied around and supported Jo and her family. In the midst of their grief, Jo and her husband donated books to an area hospital in honor of Charlotte. Inspired by their generosity and compassion for other families in hospitals or hospice that needed comfort and distraction, those friends rallied again, and together they all started a nonprofit--Charlotte's Wings. Today, they have donated over 20,000 books to Michigan hospitals and hospices.

For the past six years, my husband and I have gotten dressed up and gone to the benefit. (Click here to read about last year's Charlotte's Wings benefit.) It's for friends, it's to help, it's at a fancy hotel, it's all good.

Part of the story of the night was in deed the fact that it was a date night for us. Tim and I were posting Instagrams of ourselves all dressed up and I was ordering pre-event cocktails in the hotel bar. We were laughing and enjoying being grown-ups.

"I got a room for you," he said and I nearly spit out my drink.

"What are you talking about?," I asked.

"You need time to yourself," he said as he took my hand in his. "You always say how nice it would be to get away, so do it. I'll go home when the dancing starts and take care of the kids, you stay, dance and then get a good night's sleep."

Silence.....and then....

"Um, no way, I can't, but, what about? how? isn't it too much? it feels wrong. are you sure? oh, wait. can I? oh man, I'm ordering another drink," I said all at once feeling so loved and in love.

We walked hand in hand to the ballroom to our table. I was full of giddy excitement about drinking and dancing with my buddy Steph, and then sleeping in a king size bed alone. He was full of giddy excitement that he got out of being bored while I danced for three hours straight. It was working out so well for both of us.

Part of the story of the night was about a video. A video I made to help tell the story of the impact of Charlotte's Wings.

A couple months ago, I visited a children's hospital and met the sick kids and the parents who were using the books Charlotte's Wings donated. I heard stories of their heart-aching, unwavering, superpower love and unimaginable strength. The video was a love letter to my inspiring friends at Charlotte's Wings and to those parents that I met at the hospital.

I was nervous. I wanted people to get it...feel it...

As the video started, Tim once again reached over and grabbed my hand. He knew the weight of responsibility I felt to tell this love story the right way. "People will feel it honey," he whispered. "They'll get it," he added and squeezed my hand tightly.

Charlottes Wings 2013 from Jumping With My Fingers Crossed on Vimeo.

I held my breath while over 600 people in the room watched.

Some people cried. Some people hopefully spent more at the silent auction. Some people got it, I hope.

Because we all have a story. We all have a love story to tell. The love story of a husband's thoughtful surprise. The love story of old pals dancing away their worries in a hotel ballroom. The love story of friends supporting each other, lifting each other out of sorrow and grief. The love story of strangers donating money to a charity. The love story of parents reading books to their sick children in the hospital.

It's holding hands tightly, it's smiling through the tears, it's finding the joy and the beauty. It's appreciating the good in our lives and the incredibly tough times we get through, it's about the stories we will remember.

To find out more about Charlotte's Wings, click here.