Time and Space Designs

A letter to my little one (who is not so little anymore)

2012-05-13T12:17:00.001-07:00

My dear, sweet little boy:

Here I sit at work on your first birthday. I'm trying so hard not to feel guilty- do you magically know how to tell time now that you're one?! I certainly hope not.

And it's Mother's Day- what better way to celebrate the anniversary of your birth?! Enter extra pang of guilt <HERE>. Does it count that I'm planning a cupcake-tastic birthday feast for you? Or that I can't wait to see your face at the end of every workday? Honestly, your toothy grin and happy, healthy chuckles make it all tolerable…even when I know a night of sleeplessness more than likley awaits me.

Yes, my son- you are the PERFECT gift...the ULTIMATE blessing. Even when my patience is lacking and I'm functioning on little rest. With you, my life has truly begun. Everyone was right- you really don't know what love is until you have kids. But don't worry- you'll understand that love someday, too.

Love was locking eyes with you as the doctor placed you on my chest, tending to your MANY middle-of-the-night "I'm hungry" cries, and changing endless black-as-tar poopie diapers.

Love is showing you the wonder of a growing garden, relishing in your squeals of delight as you splash in the swimming pool, showing you the stars at night, teaching you white-girl-from-Iowa Spanish (except it will be adapted for little white boys, and even then it will just be the nice words...until kindergarten anyway). : )

Love is sweating bullets when you try to stand during bathtime, running to catch you as you climb up the stove, wincing when you bite wooden patio furniture...grabbing your sticky, dimpled hand a second before you taste a rock or unsuspecting bug (ideally, but not always the case).

Love is watching your confidence soar as you learn new things, recording your excited laugh in my mind as you walk/run/stumble toward me...love is letting you spin the washer dial for the 50th time, and rejoicing in laundry duties- even when that means you unfold everything I did in fact fold.

And when you sing "ma ma ma ma", I liken it to the voices of angels...you are my unique melody.

Twenty-Five Rules for Mothers of Sons

2012-03-12T13:19:00.000-07:00

There are days when I wonder why God trusted me to be a Mama, but then something like Team Studer's Twenty-Five Rules for Mothers of Sons renews my waivering faith. I don't recall how I stumbled upon the article, but it was just too sweet not to share! And mothers to daughters, don't despair; I think several items on the list are gender neutral nuggets that Mamas everywhere can impart upon their kiddos.

After reading through the 'rules', I'm proud to say that I've mastered a few...like #2 ("Be a cheerleader for his life"). It might be drinking from a glass without spills, the way he poops on his 'big-boy' potty or when he repeats something we have practiced over and over...and OVER. I act like it's the biggest, best part of my day (because, well, it is!).

I plan to be better at #8 ("Be an example of a beautiful woman with brains, determination, and integrity") and definitely keep working on #9 ("Teach him to have manners"). No, you really can't start too young. In terms of impact, I'm inclined to think that 'please' and 'thank you' rank right up there with 'I'm sorry' and 'I love you'. He will know the time and place for all of these and use them without hesitation.

Oh, how I kiss him (#24)! I like to think all the smooches I dole out after work will make up for those I missed during the day...I can never have enough of the 'whole-side-of-my-face-is-wet' kisses he so generously gives.

I'm excited for #23 ("Take him to new places") because I remember how much traveling positively changed my perspective on life. I want him to have an overwhelming flood of memories from all the adventures we shared...so many that it's impossible to pick out his favorite.

And I hope that no matter how far away he goes, a phone call or a note or a visit will give him the feeling that he is home (#25-"Be home base").

You know what I just realized about my aspirations? Everything I want to be good at also happens to be everything I watched my mother so effortlessly do for me (and my sister and brother). She has always been affectionate, no matter our age. She has always been my cheerleader (track meets, band concerts and dance competitions galore). She, along with my Dad, taught us all the importance of manners and that being intelligent, determined and ethical is something to be proud of because few people have all of those qualities.

Even though she couldn't go with me on my many travels, she was behind the scenes to offer words of encouragment. It seemed as if my experiencing the world was good enough for the both of us. And most importantly, she is still my "home base", even at the ripe old age of 32. The one I share good news with, and the not so good. The one I call when life hands me a mini-emergency (How do I fix lumpy mashed potatoes? I just flooded the house; what do I do?!).

I realize now more than ever that I have some pretty big shoes to fill.

Closing the Gap

2012-01-23T08:22:00.000-08:00

I've been thinking a lot about my love for photography and what I want it to convey. There has just been one minor problem- my pesky inner perfectionist, who is quite judgmental! : ) Anyone who reads my posts on occasion knows this is a frequent unwanted bag I lug around. But when I take that heavy load off my shoulders, I feel a freedom in my work that I can't obtain any other way!

Enter an insightful post from Shutter Sisters about being your own creative director and developing a voice and vision in your photography. After reading it, I realized that wrecklessly pursuing these elements means parting ways (permanently!) with my perfectionist tendencies . That nagging, judgmental voice does nothing but put a chokehold on my creativity; that's where I AM.

So this is what I did for "Project 52". I've been following The Deming Photography Club's weekly subject challenges for motivation and Week Four's subject was "Circles". I heard a sweetly sublime chatter, reminding me of a photo idea I had some time ago. So I set everything up and started messing with the settings on my camera.

But only a few moments in, frustration invaded and that annoyingly naggy perfectionist tempted me to quit. After all, I wasn't able to capture the vision I saw in my head, so what was the point of continuing to try? I put my camera down and went on to other more pressing domestic goddess chores like changing diapers and folding clothes, all the while humming tunes from Baby Einstein. : )

And there it was again. My inner divinity urging me to TRY again. So I changed locations, opened up to I Corinthians 13 (which was read at our wedding), and clicked away.

This was my favorite photo of the seemingly three million I took! By listening to my "voice", I found my vision: emotion. I don't want others to look at my photos and say, "That's nice." No, that simply won't do. I want them to feel something. That's where I want TO BE.

The Jackpot!

2012-01-18T10:53:00.000-08:00

So I came home to a suspiciously pristine white envelope addressed to me from New Mexico Magazine a few days back. I figured it was just a clever ploy to get a few gift subscriptions, but secretly HOPED maybe it would be a nice congratulatory letter saying, "We published some of your work!" If you recall from a previous post, I threw caution to the wind and submitted photos for a few upcoming contests. After all, you can't win if you don't play, right?

I feel like I won the proverbial jackpot! If you flip to page 33 in the February 2012 issue of New Mexico Magazine, you'll see MY photo, 'Tres Hermanas' listed under Honorable Mention in the Sense of Place category. It's slide 18 of 37 to be exact and yes, I'm proud all right? I'm usually not one to toot my own horn, but since one of my goals for 2012 was to get some photography work published, I can't help it! This little girlie is glowing like a nighttime"vacancy" sign outside a dodgy motel! Now that I've collected my giddy self, on to the crux of the matter.

This little victory summoned a story from one of my favorite books and I recalled how a cherished pastor used it to remind me that God blesses everyone with talents. He gives us everything we need and then some, but only we can rid ourselves of the fear and self doubt that too often prevent us from pursuing our dreams. P.S. Those dreams are usually just your God-given talents in clever disguise! :)

Here's to using YOUR talents in 2012!

"Tres Hermanas"

Oh, Cozi- How I Heart You!

2012-01-18T10:47:00.000-08:00

One of my initial reasons for starting this blog was to bring some personal accountability into my quest for an organized life. Consequently, I hoped that being more time efficient would clear calendar time for hobbies and interests that have long been lingering on the back burner.

I wrote awhile ago about the fabulous FlyLady and how her ideas had helped me regain a bit of control over household CHAOS (if you peruse her site, you'll learn what this stands for). I have to admit that I've been fluttering ever since returning to work, and there have been a lot more days than not where I just threw in the towel and said, "Whatever will be, will be!"

But despite this frequent feeling of defeat, I vowed to continue feeding my healthy addiction to Cozi. Thanks to the FlyLady, I discovered this precious organizational gem, and it has brought some much-needed calm into my world. You see, pre-Cozi, on many a trip to the grocery store with my entourage of post-it notes (because that's what normal people use for a grocery list, right?!), I kept thinking there had to be SOMEONE out there like me who dug neat, tidy lists all in one place.

And like an answer from above, I met you, Cozi! I signed up and was instantly greeted with all kinds of organizing goodies...under one tidy roof! For instance, there's a tab for:

the family calendar (color code to your heart's delight!)

to-do lists (for each person or the whole household!)

shopping lists (make one for each store you frequent and say goodbye to the post-its!)

a handy journal feature (I use it to jot down baby boy firsts complete with cutesy pictures of him in the act!)

menu planning (I add internet recipes to the menu list, then drag and drop into the day I want to prepare them. Out of something that the recipe calls for? Just tell Cozi to put the ingredients on your shopping list! I'm serious- no need to say please or whisper sweet nothings into Cozi's internet ear. Cozi just does it!)

Let me just establish right now that the amount of exclamation points I use does NOT correlate in any way to my excitement level for Cozi's features. It's just that I really despise folks who go crazy with punctuation, and I don't want to be one of those people. I use exclamation points sparingly. So when you see me include one, that means pay attention, it's important!

I know you're probably thinking that all this sounds too good to be true (the Cozi goodness, not my refusal to over-use exclamation points). But indeed, it gets better. Cozi is FREE (yes, FREE!).

And for those embracing the whole smartphone craze (it'll never last! ha), Cozi offers a mobile application for Android, iPhone and BlackBerry devices. The bonus here- hubby can be at the store shopping and any changes I make from home are instantly updated to his device!

However, it's not quite ready for roll-out in the mobile versions. Dear Cozi, if you're reading, if you're listening- please offer this feature soon and just maybe I'll be inclined to give you a big "Thank you", complete with two exclamation points! : )

Feeling a Bit Inspired...

2012-01-01T15:48:00.000-08:00

I must thank Michelle Franco and her "Project 52" for giving me some inspiration today. Michelle issued the challenge not just to the Deming Photography Club, but to everyone in need of some inspiration each week of the New Year. While my ideas didn't transform so well into the end result, it's still progress! : )

The year's first project was "Green" and my favorite is the first one- "In God We Trust"; such a simple phrase with a very powerful meaning. That's where I'll be placing my trust, and if the very first day of the New Year is any indication, I've made the right decision!

The photo above was my initial submission for "Green", which holds a near and dear spot in my heart....many of you know why. :)

Steady by Jerks...er, Notes.

2011-12-19T08:12:00.000-08:00

I actually thought my ability to multi-task and compartmentalize projects would return to its heightened level of glory post-baby, but I was surely wrong. I suspicion if you cracked open my brain at any given moment, you'd see the Mad Hatter running around maniacally, jumping from one gray-matter blob to the next, sporting a pair of jumper cables saying, "I wonder what THIS will do?" Bzzzzzz....welcome to my short-circuited life with self-diagnosed ADD. Glorious. But that's how it feels; like I'm constantly jumping from one thing to another. I crave one day, just ONE, where I can concentrate on and complete one lovely task at a time...poo, I have clothes to fold. Did I pay the electric bill? When was the last time I took my vitamins?!

Welcome to 'Pregnant Brain', folks. Well, congratulations, you might be inclined to think...I didn't know you were expecting! That's the funny part about it all-I'm not...REALLY, I'm not!! It's just that 'Pregnant Brain' NEVER seems to go away. What a farce; much like those dreamy Baby Center posts suggesting varicose veins also disappear after your little one arrives.

Despite my newest affliction, I'm still giving the whole organizational idea a whirl. In fact, I'd have to be honest and say I've made a bit of progress...I DO write stuff down; it's just not all in one place...YET!

Enter my newest pursuit in quasi-organization: the EverNote iPhone application. What the crap am I doing with an iPhone you may ask? Believe me, I've asked myself that question a lot in the last month or two....but I digress (enter "Pregnant Brain" reference above).

I can snap photos, dictate a note or just type one out...then EverNote lets me organize those meandering thoughts into individual notebooks. I have one labeled for gift ideas, recipes, all things sweet-baby-boy, and one just for ME. And I'm vowing not to put anything task-related in mine...because tedious chores and hippie creativity don't really play well together.

Another juicy geek-infested function I love about EverNote: you can sync the Smartphone notebooks with documents/notes/random to-do lists on your computer. The real challenge for me, as you may have already guessed, will be REMEMBERING that next week...heck, who am I kidding? We'll see if this little nugget o' knowledge is still with me at the end of today! :) I've got Preggo Brain-might as well embrace it!

Another first...

2011-10-27T17:29:00.000-07:00

I submitted photos for the Southwest Environmental Center's 2012 photo contest, another first for me.

Although I wish they had selected some of my better work (there goes the inner perfectionist again), I'm still pleased to have some selections in the contest!

You may vote for my photos through the links below; the 12 with the most FB 'likes' make it into the calendar! I'll take all the help I can get!

Southwest Environmental Center 2012 Photo Contest

Southwest Environmental Center 2012 Photo Contest

Biting the Proverbial Bullet.

2011-10-24T03:20:00.000-07:00

I've been procrastinating on the New Mexico Magazine photo contest submission for awhile now, and apparently there are a few good reasons: some psychologists argue my inner perfectionist is the culprit. Others say it's my impulse- wow, I'm pretty sure I suffer from both of those afflictions. While I've been known to blame my inability to stick to tasks on imaginary ADD, the truth is this: I don't have the disorder; it's just that my BRAIN suffers from dis-order!

I keep thinking I'll have time 'tomorrow' or 'next week'. And before you know it, the deadline arrives and I'm running around trying to get everything done. That inevitably never works out either; something goes awry, adding to my stress level AND my annoyance at not getting things done sooner. I'm only fooling myself- I don't put things off because I'll have more time later. I believe I subsconsciously do it knowing that rushing through a task will not only lead me to stray from perfection to complete it, thereby allowing me to blame myself because I didn't do something perfectly. How's that for sick and twisted?!

"Well, if I know the problem, why can't I correct it?' you may ask. I think it may all revolve around my apparent fear of success. What if I actually won a contest? I might place impossible expectations on myself (because I don't already do that), or cause my ego to inflate to the size of the Goodyear blimp (is that thing still operable?), maybe even lose sleep contemplating my newfound fame...oh, the horror.

So, I have another contest deadline at the end of this month (the 29th to be exact). Let's see if I can learn my lesson and bite the bullet EARLY (check out the Prevention Magazine article that seemed to be written for me this month) http://www.prevention.com/tips/health/pump-your-will-power/3-dont-procrastinate .

"Friends"

"Gone But Not Forgotten"

"Isolation"

"Tres Hermanas"

Another tired Mama tirade.

2011-10-02T03:23:00.000-07:00

As I sit here watching my son's little chest rise and fall during peaceful slumber, I wonder how anyone could suggest they'd rather be at work than staying home with their kid(s).

It's been all of three weeks since I witnessed a woman uttering those words, and I thought I could let it go. After all, everyone has their opinions and we can agree to disagree, right? Not this time- she acted as if it was the ultimate punishment. Give this time clock Mama a BREAK!

Am I missing something? Perhaps I'm still in the honeymoon stages of being a mother (if there is such a thing) and don't see the "real" work of being a stay-at-home Mama. I'm going to take a giant leap of faith (sarcasm) and say it's more rewarding than my paycheck job. While I'm extremely grateful to have a dependable income, my "volunteer" time seems far better spent. Where else can I induce a chuckle for singing the "Itsy Bitsy Spider" and babble like a medicated manic without someone questioning my sanity? Certainly not at the water cooler or in cubicle land.

Do I sometimes reminisce about my days pre-baby? Briefly, but I can't remember what exactly my days consisted of and I've concluded that none of it was too important. Do I wish for a leisurely bath, a few uninterrupted moments to curl up with my Kindle, or the ultimate of sins- sleeping in? Occasionally, yes. But those notions are quickly replaced by the joy of bath time or a round of peek-a-boo. Oh, what sweet punishment!

A life well-lived.

2011-09-02T17:15:00.000-07:00

I hope someday I go that peacefully. He left this life being gently patted and kissed, snoring softly as though it was the best rest he had experienced in years. Choosing to end a good friend's life was difficult but necessary. Had I been honest with myself, I would have let my sweet boy go months earlier, but my selfish heart wouldn't have it.

I wasn't sure about a dog named "Winston" until I met him. Then I knew that no other name could possibly suit such a special dog. I was working for Harley Davidson at the time, and a customer who knew I had been searching for a furry companion told me about Winston....that a friend of his was trying to find a good home for him. The friend brought in a picture, and I must admit- I fell in love with those big, brown eyes and that Shaggy Dog-esque face. So off I went to see if we would even get along.

I walked into Winston's house and sat down on the couch. He came and sat next to me, and didn't leave my side...until I headed for the door. My place wasn't doggy-friendly just yet, but I vowed to return the following day after making a much-needed store run. I still remember how he stood at the door, trying to get out so he could go along with me. I kept my promise, more to Winston than anyone else, and I picked him up the very next day. It was rainy and overcast. As soon as the door to his owner's Suburban opened, he bolted out and into my humble little Mitsu (in the front seat, of course!). Ah, this was going to be a perfect fit. After welcoming him into my tiny two-bedroom apartment and getting settled in, reality hit- this was one big boy! What in the heck was I thinking?! But sixty-five pounds of pure lap dog looked up at me, and my fears quickly faded.

Winston was originally a shelter rescue- a worker at the pound couldn't resist his charm and brought him home with her. She took him out training runs (she was a marathon runner), which he loved. But she had rescued too many and soon enough, Winston (then known as "Jimmy") had to go. He found his way to Gary's house, where Winston's nemesis, Higgins lived. Higgins was a stuffy, prima dona show dog who took delight in tormenting my little dear. So I like to think I rescued him again. : )

Indeed, our eight years together saw a lot of change, and he was right there to pull me through.

A new adventure began when I took a job as a nanny. Winston and I moved across town into a house bursting with energy from a two-year-old and six-year-old. We had a bit of a rough start as he acclimated to all of the activity, but soon all was well. That is, until he found his way out of the yard one sunny day. Luckily for us, Winston couldn't resist the sound of a motorcycle. So we started it up, and down the street he came running...apparently ready to go for a ride.

And then we moved again; this time to a cute, little house outside of Sierra Vista, complete with a large fenced-in yard. It was Winston's favorite place. He especially liked sauntering up to the obnoxious neighbor dogs and ever so coolly, hiking a leg in their face. I never tired of seeing his performance. : ) It was at this house that Winston found a new friend. Apparently, the previous tenants raised desert tortoises (and in between cooked a little meth!), and one of them hadn't dug out of hibernation just yet. But when he decided to make his return to the world, Winston was there to greet him. I went outside to check on Winston, and he turned to look at me as if he had been caught red-handed. But with what? I soon found he had made the tortoise his new chew toy....and then heard the *crunch crunch crunch* of his jaws processing turtle shell. Not to worry- it all ended well for the tortoise. He was a little traumatized, but soon came out of his shell after we bribed him with water. When the tenant came by to pick up the tortoise, we offered its mangled little shell and said "I think a javelina (wild pig) must have gotten it." Yes, it was a rare breed we thought, with long, shaggy hair and black and white spots; very mysterious and stealthy. :)

It was also in that home where I decided to make a stab at the academy. It would mean 20 weeks away from my baby boy, but would guarantee a better-paying job that could solidify a lifetime of rawhide bones and Snausage treats. So we started to train, running upwards of 4-5 miles several times each week. Winston would whine and wiggle as I laced up my running shoes; the thought of running enticed him. He always started off at a full gallop, and I would warn him that this was unwise because we had a very long way to go. He rarely took my advice, and so we would both make our fatigued return to the house a few miles later, with me gently tugging his leash and offering some words of encouragement. On one occasion, I carried him a few yards back to the house because he just couldn't "go" anymore. As we waddled back to the house (hey, 65 pounds is HEAVY!), Winston leaned back and planted a wet kiss on my cheek as if to say "Thanks"!

My academy call finally came in 2005; it was a sad day leaving him, but I knew he was in good hands. My Mom and Dad took great care of Winston while I studied and sweated my way through to graduation day in early 2006. And another move was in store for us; this time to the plush oasis (I jest) of a tiny border town in New Mexico. Winston didn't seem to care much for my new work hours (10+ each day), and he would rebel by chewing up the sofa cushions and digging in flower pots. Simply put, he hated being alone. And I hated leaving him. Oh, the things we do for money. : )

It wasn't long after we were settled in that he met someone who would become an important part of the last few years of his life. The first day my boyfriend (now my hubby) dropped by, Winston put on quite a show. We sat down on the couch; Winston sat down in front of Chris...I knew what this meant- "pet me". Chris didn't and proceeded to make a horrible error in judgment by ignoring Winston's subtle request. Done with the subtlety route, Winston jumped up on my L-shaped couch, opposite of where we sat. He then turned around, giving Chris his "back", and placed his head on the backrest of the couch. But not before letting out a disgusted "sigh". I told Chris that if he didn't already realize it, he was being ignored!!

They got through that rough beginning, and became fast friends. We dated for two years before Chris finally took the plunge and let "us" move in. He was not crazy about having a dog in the house, even a well-behaved one (if you can overlook the potting soil and couch mishaps), but I told him Winston and I were a package deal. You simply can't have one without the other. : )

One night long before the move-in invitation, Chris suggested I bring Winston over to stay with us- we could just put him in the pen outside with his dogs. Had I failed to mention the obvious about Winston? He was NOT an outside dog. Such a regal, stately, sophisticated creature...who on Earth would even suggest a dog named WINSTON sleep outside?!! Preposterous!

Winston lived another 3 1/2 years with us. I dropped him off each workday at "daycare"- Mom to the rescue, again. Have you forgotten he didn't like being alone?! By now, we had given up our long runs, but he would still put on a show and chase his tail for you on a good day. And he sure did love a long walk.

Winston took every vacation with us, and in a few short summers managed to see the Grand Canyon, Lake Powell, the entire state of New Mexico and even made the long road trips home to Iowa and Louisiana. He was always happy to jump in the backseat, awaiting his next adventure. One trip sticks out in my mind. We were driving back through Arizona from Lake Powell and I was attempting to feed Winston his "yummies". This term described nothing "yummy" at all- in fact, his yummies were glucosamine/chondroitin and Vitamin C to make his tired hips and legs better (something I now know was a ridiculous idea). I would crush up the capsules and do my best to conceal them in his food. This day, I picked up a drive-thru hamburger for him, which he enjoyed so much....until he discovered the "ickies" on the patty. Defeated, I gave up.

Chris thought he could trick Winston into taking his pills. But Winston was very smart, and soon found that his beloved Chris was in on this nasty trick, too. He faced away from Chris towards the window, letting out another disgusted "sigh". As Chris called to him, Winston wouldn't even turn in his direction; he just kept staring out the window. I swear he must have been thinking "traitor!". He expected that type of thing from me, but NOT from his buddy, Chris. : )

Getting into the car had become quite difficult for Winston now, and I took the extra time to help him go in and out. It was proving especially hard, as I was 36 weeks along and getting more tired by the minute. But he had taken good care of me, so I felt it was the least I could do for my special friend.

The bigger I got, the slower I went. When Chris and Winston would take off on the occasional triumphant hopping gallop (he had to hop with his back legs to run now) because Winston pooped like a champ, he never let me get far from his sight. He would simply stop, look back and wait for me to catch up. Then they would take off again!

One of the sweet memories I have of Winston is the day I went into labor. This being my first child, I wasn't sure if I was just being a weenie or if the pain I had experienced was the real deal. I was scared, anxious, nervous...there I was on all fours, swaying back and forth as I timed what I assumed to be contractions. Winston slowly made his way into the bedroom (gone were his limber running days), and put his face next to mine. He laid down and waited it out with me before I decided it was time to head for the hospital. I felt awful having to leave him, considering he was my comfort during such a scary time. But off we went- and we came home with another sweet, little boy.

Anytime our son so much as cried, Winston would get up as quickly as his failing legs would let him and take off for Caleb's room to check up on him. And if I didn't hear the commotion, Winston was certain to search me out in the house and notify me that Caleb needed me. We would take Caleb out in his stroller to walk with Winston, one of us pushing Caleb, the other walking Winston. But he never liked getting too far away- he always managed to work his way over to the stroller and stay near the left side, seemingly "watching over" our little man.

Shortly before I returned to work after being on maternity leave, Winston took a turn for the worst. He could barely get up now (even with his magic shoe booties), and when he did, he stumbled into things and/or became so weak he had to lie down. I looked deep into his eyes, and they said "Let me go". I regret that I made him hang on for another few weeks before I realized my selfish ways. But what do they say? Hindsight is 20/20.

About one week later, I knew something was wrong. Chris had been packing up for a trip and somehow I feared that Winston had gotten out of the house and into the night. I was right. Chris couldn't believe he had gone too far; Winston was walking just a few yards and would give out before Chris would pick him up again. We looked for hours, my mind imagining the worst. My baby had tried to tell me it was time to let him go, but I hadn't listened and this would be my punishment. He had gone off to die. I pictured coyotes tearing him apart, or him dying alone in a hole somewhere because he couldn't find his way out. We hardly slept that night, and resumed our search just two hours later at 5:30 in the morning. I called my neighbor, Judith, who said she would look for him. My Mom and Dad searched for hours; Chris and I scoured the yard looking for any sign of Winston's whereabouts. But there was nothing to find.

I hadn't been off the phone long with Judith when it rang again. She had found Winston. I could not believe what I was hearing; he was alive after being gone nearly 9 hours?! Judith told me she had said a prayer for Winston's safe return before going out the door, and there he was- walking toward her, tired and hot, but alive.

This escapade came from a dog who could barely walk a short distance, and he somehow managed to make it all of one mile, maybe more. We still aren't sure where he went off to or why. Maybe it was his last hurrah- we will never know.

It only seemed right to let him rest; he had lived a good, long, rich life (15-16 years worth!), and he deserved some peace.

We talked a lot about where his resting place would be and decided it should be near our other dogs. Perhaps you already guessed it, but he still liked to gloat about his freedom when we let him roam outside. He would slowly make his way up to their fence line and squat now, no hiking for this old man. But he still had the same spunk of years past that I had grown to admire so much.

Chris and I did everything we could to make his last few days enjoyable; we went on car rides, we let him up on the couch. I gave him as many hotdogs as his big belly could hold. I cooked extra bacon, and gave it to him just because. We ate brownies, meatloaf and steak. We went on walks (as long as his legs would last), and I praised him like a crazy lady for being such a "pooper star". I prayed and prayed for strength and it was granted to me. But there were moments where I would break down and sob as I counted down the time, now just hours, before I had to say goodbye.

Isn't it ironic that in his passing, he is now truly an "outside dog"? So I venture out each evening to say goodnight and kiss his collar, carefully propped up on his grave. It probably sounds a little nuts, but I don't care. He was my "best, good friend" in the words of Forrest Gump. Truth be told, I catch myself listening for the "click" of his nails against the tile floor and I still expect to see him watching me as I rock our baby to sleep. Or I "remember" he must be outside and I need to retrieve him. I look, but he's not there. Nor do I find him laying in his usual spot by the fireplace.

I told him as he left this life that I was happy for him, but sad for me. Who can even argue that this was not a life well-lived? I hope I can time it just right, too.

Everything is as it should be...and other annoying musings.

2011-08-27T07:47:00.000-07:00

Am I the only one who notices that annoying little proverbs always find you and then hang around like a pesky fly until you either accept the fact or take him out with a swatter?!And have you ever noticed that this type of stuff floats into your life when you actually NEED it, but don't want to HEAR it?!

This has been a tough lesson for me to learn. You see, I've been rehearsing an annoying-but-true proverb (everything is as it should be) to my dear Mum since reading a book whose title escapes me. Now, it's coming back to haunt me. Why can't I keep my Chris kisser shut?!

According to Dr. Wayne Dyer, our thoughts attract things into our life, good or bad. If you see a situation's outcome as positive, it will be; the same applies to negativity. Yikes! I really despise reading stuff that makes sense when I'm not in the mood to embrace it.

Now I'm not saying that notion nor the above-mentioned phrase are the only things governing how our lives actually play out; I believe there's a Creator who ultimately calls the shots. I guess you could say He is the director and I'm more of the actress!

Yet still, I guess it's just the human in me who believes I can change the outcome of certain life scenarios if I make a good effort, pray about it and think positively. But inevitably, there are some things you just can't control...which drives the control freak in me crazy. Blurgh- please help me to learn my lesson quickly and completely so I can make the voices stop!! : )

Things No One Ever Told Me.

2011-08-07T07:39:00.000-07:00

An ever-growing list of things no one ever told me (about being a Mum):

1) disposable nursing pads aren't meant to be washed OR dried
2) you can't always beat an incontinent dog to the door
3) getting pooped on will cease to bother you (see #2)
4) pregnancy could be a wonderful experience (it's just those last two weeks that really kicked my crack!)
5) childbirth really isn't that big of a deal (except for those pesky contractions anyway)
6) you'll get by on less sleep and naps? What naps?!
7) babies have shower-dar, food-dar and coffe-dar...when I'm stepping in the shower, getting ready to eat or grab some coffee, that little guy's radar goes off and he "needs" me
8) speed eating is your new meal plan (see #7)
9) you don't really need to exercise when you have a baby (see #7)
10) alarm clocks are for crazies (see #6)
11) nursing and almost anything is possible....except getting an incontinent dog to the door in time (are you seeing a pattern here?!)
12) toothless smiles are irresistible
13) you can't really sanitize a teething ring (it kind of explodes in the microwave...who knew?!!!)
14) getting up I-don't-want-to-admit-how-many-times each night to make sure he's still "breathing" is semi-normal....I think. : )

What's on YOUR list?!

A new Mama rant...

2011-08-01T16:18:00.000-07:00

I admit it- I'm somewhat of a germa-phobe...okay, it's safe because most of you know me, so I'll just own up to the fact that I have a MAJOR case of the OCD's when it comes to germs. Eeeew- it even grosses me out when I look at that word (an ill attempt at humor).

And somehow strangers sense this...which is why they constantly come up to me in public places and touch my dear, sweet, germ-free son.

"Can I just touch him? It's a thing I have to do with babies." Uh, weird!

I'm sure you're saying at this point, "You had a chance to say 'no'". Which is true- but is there really a way to say that tactfully? And then you may ask, "Why would you worry about being tactful at a time like this?!" Dang- you people are killing me today.

I must say I did what any freaky-with-the-germ-fears mama would do. When we returned to the safe, clean confines of the car, I whipped out a wipe and went to work on my son's face, hands, and feet...pretty much any skin that risked contamination from that strange chick with the "touching" sickness.

Oh my goodness- this blog is like confession! Except I'm not Catholic and I'm quite certain God is having a laugh as he continues challenging me with these "touching people."

Is my lovely one destined to live his youth inside a bubble? No, that's a ludicrous question! I'll just be walking alongside him every step of the way, with my sanitizing wipes of course. : )

I love a good project...

2011-07-29T12:53:00.000-07:00

In my haste to de-clutter the house before returning to work, I've managed to collect a growing pile of old things I no longer need. A lot of those treasures went to a local shelter, but I've retained a few to re-purpose because I can't resist a good project.

Enter an old over-the-door shoe organizer. I cringe when I say that it's been hiding behind our closet door for three years...with NOTHING in it! Originally, I placed it back there because, well, it would be out of the way. And I guess it was. Until my inner cleaning goddess reared her ugly head and said "clutter be gone!"

I perused the internet and found several sites which re-purposed shoe organizers as wall planters. Very clever if you have a horizontally-spaced organizer made of fabric. Or perhaps you need a place to stow garden tools or electronics- again, this works perfectly.

But if yours is vertical with mesh pockets like mine, let's just say it limits the possibilities.

And then I thought of something that manages to wreak havoc on us each year. Enter our garden supplies. Each Spring when the stores start displaying vegetable seeds, we snatch them up. Our storage solution? A shoebox and Ziploc bags that house various varieties of tomatoes, squash and peppers. A mess? Certainly! Good luck finding what you need when you need it.

Finally, a project made for my old shoe organizer. I inserted the seed packets, hung it up and at last my organizational craving is satisfied.

If you have any other re-purposing ideas, please share them!

At long last...

2011-07-26T06:58:00.000-07:00

I have finally finished up my spice rack project, but must admit to some major procrastination getting in the way. Somehow all that negative mind chatter was doing its best to convince me I would never complete this task. But I finally overcame that nonsense and got right to work gluing my magnets onto the jars as soon as they arrived on my doorstep (what did I do before Amazon?!).

While I did purchase the heavy-duty neodymium magnets, I soon found that even they are not tough enough to hold up a full 4 oz. spice jar. The result- jars either sliding down to rest on my stove, or a misaligned menagerie of spices dotting the top of my range. So, my nephew came up with the solution above. And I happen to think it looks even better (less clutter and more uniformity)!

I'd love to know what you think about the finished product. : )

Is it really possible?

2011-07-21T06:41:00.000-07:00

Is it really possible to get so excited about order and de-cluttering?! Apparently so.

And I must thank one of my dear friends, who just turned me on to a fantastic website that helps you maintain order and avoid chaos in the home!

Go check out FLYlady!

And I'm back after completing my 15-minute bedroom de-clutter blitz. Holy heck did that feel good, just throwing away with reckless abandon! I tend to agree that our bedrooms hold a lot of clutter because that's where we put things when we don't feel like actually "putting them away". : )

So gone are the work-out routines I've been saving (I'm not ashamed to say some were of the 1998 vintage!), the expired credit cards are in the shred pile where they belong, and those Martha Stewart-esque flower garden plans? To the trash- I live in the desert for goodness sake, and I didn't see any tips from Martha on how to avert jack rabbits and the neighbor's goat herd to foster the perfect flower bed!

Now off to your bedroom- I know you're just itching to find your own hidden treasures!

The Clutter Conundrum.

2011-07-16T12:03:00.000-07:00

So there's apparently a very good reason why we hold on to clutter- that dirty little term known as "emotional baggage". I always assumed that phrase described one of those odd folks you dated back in college...maybe it was the creepy obsession with cats (all 10 of them), the hourly "just checkin' in" calls to his mother or the weird little "characters" he acted out during temper tantrums...but I digress... what on earth could "emotional baggage" have to do with the clutter in my house? It turns out quite a lot.

According to Daily OM, we are scared to welcome the future and are afraid of hurting others' feelings; that's why we hold on to the clutter from our lives. I've had this discussion with my Mum many times- why are you holding on to this or that? It's because FILL IN THE BLANK gave it to us (read: what if they show up one day and I don't have that tacky vase or ugly mug to show for myself?!). God bless my Mother! Apparently, she has a way bigger heart than I do.

I look around my house and see an absurd amount of trip souvenirs that must be nearly 10 years old. How about the spelling pin I was awarded in grade school...the costume jewelry from senior prom...keychains from my first car. This article is spot on. The reason I still have these mementos is because somehow I think that giving them up will erase those memories forever. The mind does indeed play silly tricks on a sleep-deprived, clutter-hunting woman.

Perhaps there really is something to that "emotional baggage" theory. But I don't have cats nor tantrum characters...I do however, call my Mum on a daily, but not hourly basis. One out of three doesn't make me totally unstable, right?! : )

Happy reading- I hope you can gain some insight, too!

The Weight of Objects

Tension Rod to Organize Cleaning Supplies?

2011-07-12T09:10:00.000-07:00

So this is pure brilliance-and definitely on my kitchen de-cluttering "to do" list!

Oh, how I love thee, Real Simple!

Use a Tension Rod to Organize Cleaning Supplies

The finished product!

2011-07-10T17:28:00.000-07:00

There are times when it feels like the whole world is crashing around me, and there's nothing I can do to stop it. It was one of those days. I'm so very thankful to have a job in such a tumultuous economic time in our country, even though ultimately it means working long, irregular hours away from this sweet, little boy and my wonderful husband. While I try not to focus on going back, it manages to linger in the back-burner of my mind. How will I ever find this balance I crave to play the various roles in life that are so important to me? When will there ever be enough time?

And then this popped into my inbox: Quality vs. Quantity

Indeed, it seems that Daily OM had this message in mind for me. Quality versus quantity. I have learned that I focus too much on quantity of time spent with someone or pursuing something, instead of remembering that the quality of time I spend doing these things is far more important...even if it's but for a small segment of time.

And so it is- my first real lesson in embracing time and the space in between.

The spice rack solution.

2011-07-09T09:30:00.000-07:00

Just when I was starting to back pedal away from organization (yet again!), I found the solution to my spice rack quandary.

Enter www.thekitchn.com and their fabulous article on a DIY space-saving spice rack. Very cutesy and efficient! I must say I've never been so excited to exercise my organizational muscle in my OWN home!

I found 24 four-ounce jars at Wal-Mart, I ordered my lids from Kitchen Kraft (which is magnificent by the way; I ordered on a Wednesday and they arrived on Friday!) and am sorting through the array of magnets out there. Something tells me I'm on to something good!

I'll be posting the finished product soon, but here's what I've done so far:

A bit of weekend inspiration.

2011-07-09T07:47:00.000-07:00

"Desiderata"

by Max Ehrmann

Go placidly amid the noise and the haste,
and remember what peace there may be in silence.
As far as possible, without surrender,
be on good terms with all persons.
Speak your truth quietly and clearly, and listen to others,
even to the dull and ignorant;
they too have their story.

Avoid loud and aggressive persons;
they are vexatious to the spirit.
If you compare yourself with others,
you may become vain or bitter,
for always there will be
greater and lesser persons than yourself.

Enjoy your achievements as well as your plans.
Keep interested in your own career
however humble;
it is a real possession in the
changing fortunes of time.

Exercise caution in your business affairs,
for the world is full of trickery.
But let this not blind you
to what virtue there is;
many persons strive for high ideals,
and everywhere life is full of heroism.

Be yourself.
Especially do not feign affection.
Neither be cynical about love,
for in the face of all aridity and disenchantment,
it is as perennial as the grass.

Take kindly the counsel of the years,
gracefully surrendering the things of youth.
Nurture strength of spirit
to shield you in sudden misfortune.
But do not distress yourself with dark imaginings.
Many fears are born of fatigue and loneliness.

Beyond a wholesome discipline,
be gentle with yourself.
You are a child of the universe
no less than the trees and the stars;
you have a right to be here.

And whether or not it is clear to you,
no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should.
Therefore, be at peace with God,
whatever you conceive Him to be.
And whatever your labors and aspirations,
in the noisy confusion of life,
keep peace in your soul.
With all its sham,
drudgery, and broken dreams,
it is still a beautiful world.
Be cheerful.
Strive to be happy.

Independence from kitchen clutter?

2011-07-04T19:22:00.000-07:00

First things first- Happy Independence Day, America!

Today symbolizes independence; not just for our nation, but in my household- freedom from kitchen clutter! The kiddo got me up bright and early this morning, so after laying him down for a nap, I dug in. Armed with "One Year to an Organized Life" in my left hand and markers and notecards in the other, I laid out the haphazard map for my new and improved kitchen.

The revamp was already approved by the hubby- he's away this weekend, and I warned him that I felt an OCD-organizing moment surfacing; how about unleashing it on the kitchen? Absolutely, he says- I love that man, and the way his OCD-organizing mind works.

Let us not get too far before I make a confession. I've had that damn book for 2+ years and had the best intentions. After all, self-proclaimed "zen organizer" Regina Leeds makes it look effortless. But as I admitted before, I have a hard time committing to organizing my own messes. And there's a certain element of fear looming as I attempt to embark on that whole "out with the old in with the new" concept. We are creatures of habit, and we get used to the way things are; even if they are a mess, it's all our own.

So I'm doing it on my own terms, hoping for a better outcome this year- I think the "doing" is the most important part. The chapters are organized by months- the kitchen is March. Am I a rebel or what?!

The author is all about establishing three hubs for the kitchen: Preparation/Cooking, Baking and Clean-up/Storage.

Do you see my problem?!

In between naps and nursing, I've managed to semi-organize the baking and cooking zones. Frustration set in briefly when I started to uncover the duplicates in my spice shelf. It's no wonder I could never find anything! Ultimately I persevered, but found myself with a new dilemma: how in the world do I organize these things? I'm thinking alphabetically would be the wisest, but I have few cupboards and even less counter space. What solutions have you incorporated into your own kitchen to manage spices?

An introduction.

2011-07-02T16:24:00.000-07:00

Time and space- that's what life boils down to for me. If you play your cards right, you get just enough time and the space in between to "enjoy your achievements, as well as your plans" (Max Ehrmann).

My plans include being a better wife, wonderful mother, daughter and friend while pursuing my writing, photography and graphic design hobbies…which I must admit have taken a back burner to this thing called life.

How do I intend to accomplish this, you might ask? Well, truth be told- it's been said I'm an organizing whiz. Let me step out on a shaky limb and say I agree with that assessment...to a point.

And here's why- I know me too well. And the me I know is great at organizing stuff for other people (events, thoughts, can closets, anyone?) but not so hot when it comes to bringing order to my own messes. This includes my hobbies and my household (just ask my husband)!

This blog is about my journey to use that organizational prowess in my own life with the hope of better utilizing the time and space I've been given- both the physical and metaphorical varieties!

In addition to mindless tangents (hey, it's just the way I'm wired!), I'll post a smattering of inspiration from books, articles and real life that I feel bring me closer to accomplishing my goals.

Thanks for joining me!

Lindsey