Blithe Revival

For the Love of Bridesmaids

piperoflove@yahoo.com (Piper of Love) — Fri, 13 Nov 2009 02:34:00 +0000

How are the wedding plans coming, you ask? (very slowly. like at a glacial pace, thanks for asking)

Here's what I know for sure, so far.

We know the date and the place, and we know who's officiating. We also know who's in our wedding party, for the most part. I have also found and purchased the wedding gown of my dreams.

And that's about it.

I have stared at pictures of flowers and bridesmaid dresses for hours. I can't pick a color to save my life though. I'm pretty sure I want jewel tones, but not really. I think I want peonies, but I'm not sure. Forget about cakes, invitations, music, or anything else.

It's like I've completely forgotten how to make decisions, or something.

Fortunately, my bridesmaids are keeping me in the game. I actually sent them a mildly panicked email last week telling them that if they didn't prod me along, I was pretty sure I would still be staring a pictures of flowers the night before the wedding. They are excellent prodders, thank God!

The good news is I've been spending a lot of time enjoying this fabulous blog, which I'm quite certain holds the entirety of all my wedding inspiration. (many thanks to Sizzle for turning me on to it)

Wheels are spinning. Balls are rolling.

I vow to have the most beautiful wedding I can possibly imagine. In return for the many laborious hours which await my faithful prodders, I vow to not make them wear anything they will hate. It's the least I can do.

Just one of the many weddings I've been in, and a super-shiny homage to 1993.
(that's me, second from the left.)

NaBloPoMo day 12

Overheard and Unexplainable

piperoflove@yahoo.com (Piper of Love) — Thu, 12 Nov 2009 01:42:00 +0000

Jackson: 'Hey Noah, can I borrow your face? My butt's on vacation.'

Noah: 'No, but do you want me to fart for you?'

NaBloPoMo day 11

Stretching, Reaching, and Mod Flashbacks

piperoflove@yahoo.com (Piper of Love) — Wed, 11 Nov 2009 05:23:00 +0000

This is my post for day 10 of NaBloPoMo, and let's face it kids, I'm stretching for it. Big time.

I knew this would happen. (but I won't go there, I'm just going to keep plugging right along) (stretching, reaching, grasping at thin air, what-have-you.)

For this momentous post, of significant cultural impact and self-imposed obligation, I've decided to give a shout out to an app. (yup, it's really come to this.)

One of my favorite iPhone apps right now is called Reflect.

I'm pretty sure this app was mostly created for people to space out on, which is exactly what I use it for. You also might find yourself enjoying many colorful flashbacks. (not that I would know this from personal experience, or anything. I think I read it somewhere.)

Basically, you take the simple preset colors and patterns, and smear them across a page with your finger. Then you flip the page over and it turns into a kaleidoscope from the picture you made. It's insanely simple, very fun, and highly addictive.

I saved these images I made I on my phone.

What does that do for you? Did it blow your mind?

(I'm flashing on ultra-mod 60's wallpaper right now, myself.)

Obviously, the images don't really speak to the fun you have with the app. (what can you do? you gotta do something with this stuff, right?) If you have an iPhone, or an iTouch, check it out for yourself. Your loved ones will be thanking me for your new addiction later.

All Show No Tell BlogHer '09 Memories

piperoflove@yahoo.com (Piper of Love) — Mon, 09 Nov 2009 13:36:00 +0000

I love my friends.

(excluding the duplicate peeps photoed, photos are linked to the blog of a person in the photo, except the Dove party pic, which is linked to it's credit.)

To see the rest of my BlogHer '09 photos, click here.

NaBloPoMo day 9

Forrest For The Trees

piperoflove@yahoo.com (Piper of Love) — Mon, 09 Nov 2009 02:31:00 +0000

I'm feeling extraordinarily vulnerable.

Winds of change are taking me. I'm caught up.

Staving off fear. Being brave. Being strong. Having faith.

I've been here before.

I feel so exposed saying these things. Being weak.

Vulnerable. Is that the best word?

Staving off pathetic, it's what I want most.

Is there strength in admitting your fears? Is there comfort in admitting you don't know? Is there hope in admitting you can only hope?

I need my granny. Comfort like that.

I need my girlfriends. Intervention like that.

I need to be taken care of. Nurture like that.

I hate admitting these feelings.

I'm vulnerable like that.

NaBloPoMo day 8

Three Little Words

piperoflove@yahoo.com (Piper of Love) — Sun, 08 Nov 2009 05:00:00 +0000

He gives gifts
Like almost everyday

My favorite gift
It's his love

Better than anything
And bigger everyday
I'm so lucky
So very blessed

He's my reward
Best gift ever

NaBloPoMo day 7

Bugs in the Blooms

piperoflove@yahoo.com (Piper of Love) — Fri, 06 Nov 2009 23:46:00 +0000

When I heard the wind howling this morning I knew I had to act fast. The leaves are still on the trees here, in their happy yellows, oranges, and browns. I knew this wind would bring more than just a cold front, though. If these raging Oklahoma winds had their way, every autumn leaf would fall from it's limb by morning. If I stood any chance of capturing this momentary autumnal bliss, then I had to do it today.

I decided Will Rogers Park would be our destination. It's a very old, and often beautiful city park, which also holds a large rose garden within it's gates. I was able to snap some really nice seasonal shots, but I would have been remiss, had I not stopped to smell the roses.

Each of these photos was taken without me noticing the happy little critters inside them. Such a delightful discovery. So, while my other more autumnal shots are still being processed, I thought I'd show off the bugs in the blooms.

NaBloPoMo day 6

Silence is Golden

piperoflove@yahoo.com (Piper of Love) — Fri, 06 Nov 2009 05:57:00 +0000

But my eyes still see...

NaBloPoMo day 5

Roots

piperoflove@yahoo.com (Piper of Love) — Thu, 05 Nov 2009 01:28:00 +0000

It's funny how things just come about organically. How there are talents we have, things we just know, which are as much a part of who we are as the breath we exhale from our bodies.

It's interesting how these things come out of us, without being summoned, they just arrive. Hidden talents. Parts of us, that rarely see center stage, yet most certainly are us. They come to be, because they always were. This happens to me.

In the warmth of a bright November sun my garden grew, and from it sprung the green thumbs of my core. To take new from old. To uproot an elephant ear bulb, with a second-nature knowledge.

In an instant I was the horticulturist my mother is, making cuttings in the greenhouse, watering in the conservatory. I was the gardener my grandmother was, transplanting bulbs, digging in earth without gloves. I was the farmer my great-grandmother was, harvesting seed, making use of every bit, leaving nothing to waste, making ready next seasons new.

Wholesome virtue, the better parts of who I am. The woman I was raised to be, not intentionally, solely through example. A woman being the woman, endowed with an inheritance of the woman before her, and of her, the woman before her.

Green thumbs, with dirt under the nails. Connected, spirit and soul, to the earth God made. To the spirits of the women who made me who I am.

NaBloPoMo day 4

I Got Out Of Bed Because...

piperoflove@yahoo.com (Piper of Love) — Tue, 03 Nov 2009 22:09:00 +0000

I jumped out of bed this morning at 5:45 am because I thought my alarm clock said 6:45 am. I didn't have my glasses on.

Since I wasn't able to fall asleep last night until 1:30am, I opted not to drink any coffee, in hopes that as soon as my boys got on the bus I could fall back to sleep. In an effort to ensure a solid pass-out, I also took three benadryl (at 7:00 am). I wanted more sleep more than anything.

Instead of falling back to sleep right away though, I piddled around on the Internet for an hour. I finally laid myself on the couch at 8:30 am, turned down the TV for white noise, and covered up for a nap.

For some ungodly reason though, Reba McEntire (a fellow Okie, with a substantially unnecessary twangy 'Okie' accent, whom I love) was on Regis and Kelly and I couldn't tune it out. I also couldn't move to get the remote, for fear of un-relaxing my semi-relaxed body and mind (because you know that if that happens there's no way you'll get relaxed back).

Before I knew it, it was 9:30 am. I had to leave to pick up Noah from kindergarten in forty-five minutes. I knew I was screwed, there would be no meaningful nap, no chance in hell.

As I laid there for the next forty-five minutes, I began to succumb to my benadryl OD. Only sleep wasn't the side-effect. Heavy thick eyeballs and blurred vision was. Which was perfect, considering I then had to drive to the school.

I kept telling Noah that I was going to take a little nap all day. I turned on his favorite TV shows, let him take all his Army guys outside to play in the dirt, and even collected sticks for him to take the bark off of. Noah had a wonderful day, fashioned perfectly to keep him entertained. He was enjoying himself so much, that each time I closed my eyes he was there, exuberantly insisting that I 'come see this, mom!'

At 2:30 pm, and on the verge of snapping (for several reasons, like sleep deprivation, and my computer that I broke, then fixed after many frustrating attempts), I told Noah to park his butt on the couch and not move because Jackson would be home in thirty minutes. I went to my room and fell, eyes first, onto my bed.

I think I may have dozed for about ten minutes, until I heard the less-than-skilled sneakiness of my five year-old searching for Halloween candy.

I didn't do anything though, I just laid there, hoping that semi-relaxed would sustain me if I could just hold onto it a few minutes more.

Then Jackson came home and reminded me that his karate clothes still needed to be washed, and also that he was starving.

The clock now says 4:44 pm, and I have to put karate clothes in the dryer.

Then I'm going to wash my sheets, so my bed will be fresh for me tonight. Because tossing and turning is much nicer when your sheets are clean.

NaBloPoMo day 3

A Video! Further Proof the Tony Hawk RIDE Retreat Wasn't Just a Dream

piperoflove@yahoo.com (Piper of Love) — Mon, 02 Nov 2009 20:36:00 +0000

It's almost as if the good folks at Activision knew I was hoping to squeeze in a few more posts about our trip, or something. A few days ago they passed out final cut of the video they made on our Tony Hawk RIDE Retreat.

It's a delightful treat to watch, aside from the exciting flashbacks it's triggered for me, I really enjoy the interviews of the other parent-bloggers there.

Press play! (and yeah, that's totally my kid standing next to Tony Hawk!)

Please note: I apologize, but you may or may not be able to see this video, and I couldn't tell you why.
It plagues me though, if it makes you feel better.

Today is November 2nd, which means the final countdown to the Tony Hawk: RIDE release date is in full swing. In my house, we've been counting down for what feels like forever already. It's kind of a big deal.

Jackson is so excited to play RIDE again! He even invited all his friends at school to come over and watch him play it. (heh)

November 17 suddenly can't get here fast enough-er.

NaBloPoMo day 2 in the can.

Yeah, Yeah, It's the First of November. I'm Not Making Any Promises.

piperoflove@yahoo.com (Piper of Love) — Sun, 01 Nov 2009 20:08:00 +0000

If you are new to blogging, or just aren't in the know, then you might not know what I was eluding to if I said 'ugh, it's November again,' so allow me to explain.

November is the month of the year when bloggers participate in NaBloPoMo. It means you sign up to write a new post each day of November, and lots of bloggers do it.

Most bloggers will hate themselves about 10 days in, and either bail waving their shame-filled white flag of surrender, or keep plodding along like the champion blogging warriors they are.

My history with NaBloPoMo goes like this. In 2007 I signed up full throttle enthused, even though I had no idea at the time how hard (read: painfully difficult, like child labor) it would be. Perhaps this can be blamed on my ever ready gumption which coupled nicely with my extreme newbie blogger naivete, but my epic NaBloPoMo fail was a doozy. I went down hard. In an effort to mend my own battered pride, I took the integrity route as an out. (which you can laugh about here, if you want)

Last year, I didn't even try. I also had no interest, zero want-to, and since I was still recovering from leaving Bliss in Bloom, I was kinda trying to fly under the radar, as it were. *cough*. Oh, how we continue to live and learn.

Now here I am again. It's November 1, 2009, and the choice is on the table.

I'm not sure if Megan's gearing up for GoBloMeMoFo year three, or not. I'm guessing no, since she just had her sweet baby, and all. But, there will be no pestering her for a bunny badge to flaunt NaBloPoMo disdain this year, regardless.

I'm not going to promise an entire month of new posts (just keeping it real kids, it's NOT going to happen). But, since I'm home right now, busy being in between jobs (not for long, I hope), I think I'll at least give NaBloPoMo 2009 a solid try.

Laugh, mock, encourage, whatever. Try is all I've got in me, so it'll just have to do.

Noah is wearing a jacket that was Mark's when he was a kid. (i love it!)
I call the photo Vintage Pioneer Wear, With Jazz Hands.

Defining Uncomfortably Awkward

piperoflove@yahoo.com (Piper of Love) — Thu, 29 Oct 2009 19:55:00 +0000

I'll give you two scenarios, then you can tell me which one is the lesser uncomfortable awkward.

Scenario the first:

Sitting in fifth period freshman English class, two seats over from the super cute boy who kissed you last Friday night in the shadows under the bleachers. Your heart races, and your big immature hormones don't know what to do with themselves. You want him to look at you, you would do anything for him to look at you.

Except he won't, because he's sitting next to his beautiful snobby girlfriend who hates you, and you're just now realizing he used you. You can't admit it to yourself yet though, because it was the first real kiss you ever had, and also because you're not really sure what 'being used' means. Anyway, he's the one who kissed you! That means he must likes you, right? Like really like-like's you, but since he has a girlfriend he can't act like it.

Never mind the fact that he didn't call you over the weekend even though he asked for your phone number, or that he's been ignoring you all day long like you don't exist. He's into you, he has to be, because he said he was, and because he kissed you.

The entire week goes on just like this day. Each day you try to fix your hair prettier than you did the day before, and you even got your mom to buy you a new shirt. All your attempts to be seen are for naught. All your questions about why he kissed you go unanswered. You suffer silently in teen aged angst until you can stand it no more.

So you write a note to your b/f/f, who sits three rows over, telling her you think you might die if he doesn't kiss you again, because you've realized you love him, and will do anything it takes to make him love you too.

Your tragedy is made much more horrific when, in your fevered attempt to pass this letter before it burns your hand off, your evil teacher snatches it out of your hand and reads it aloud for the whole class to hear.

Scenario the second:

Tonight is Parent Teacher Conference night. You have always gone alone, except last year when you told your exhusband about the PTC and he showed up with his girlfriend, who happens to be a teacher in the same school district. You had to sit there, in shock, as your child's fathers girlfriend conversed with your child's teacher about your child's school work and behavior, like she knew what she was talking about and had every right to be doing so.

You felt angry and bewildered, and justifiably so. But, for the benefit of your child, you didn't do anything about it. You just graciously thanked his teacher for all her hard work, and vowed to yourself that you would never allow that situation to happen again.

Tonight will be different, without a doubt. Tonight your wonderful fiance, who is valiantly stepping into his step-father role, will be there by your side. You and your soon-to-be husband will be there together, and rightly so, to discuss your children's behavior and school work.

It's exactly as it should be, except for the fact that your exhusband (who you didn't invite, rarely speak to, and doesn't actually participate in school work and behavior much at all, and has met your fiance once) and his girlfriend (attending because he doesn't want to go by himself) will be there too.

You, your fiance, your children, your exhusband, and his girlfriend, all in a classroom together.

All of you will be together in the same room, for the very first time.

Both of those scenarios made me feel sick to my stomach. One of them was a great learning experience. One of them is being made significantly better because a certain fiance will be there too, and even though it's awkward, the day was always going to come when we would all have to be together anyway.

I'm nervous, I won't lie. But, thank God each of my boys PTC's are only fifteen minutes long. We'll be in and out, and laughing about the whole thing by bedtime tonight, right?

*insert readers pep-talks here*

Enter the Man Cave

piperoflove@yahoo.com (Piper of Love) — Thu, 29 Oct 2009 03:13:00 +0000

I'm marrying a self-proclaimed nerd, and I'm totally okay with that. I think his interests are cool, even if I'm not totally interested in all of them myself (read: World of Warcraft). As a matter of fact, I think his house is pretty awesome. A marvel in it's own right, I'm pretty sure it is the ultimate bachelor pad.

He calls it his Man Cave.

If it weren't for my severe allergies to dust and cats, I would probably hang out there all the time. That big ass flat screen TV, all the movies and games and toys, and an alien computer that I've never seen before; that's good stuff. I could even become a nerd too, maybe.

For posterity, I thought it would be a good idea to take some pictures of his humble abode. Since one day he won't live in his cave anymore, and since it's arrangement and contents are too wonderful to not be documented. (read that with your tongue solidly out of your cheek, okay. because I'm not being sarcastic at all, I'm all heart and sincerity, for real)

Once we move in with each other both of our lives are going to change. Our habits, our routines, it's all going to be different. There will be growing pains for both of us, we realize that. It's something we speak about frequently, because we don't want to go into the big shock of this change blindly.

Eventually we will have our own home, and it will contain a mixture of each of our treasures from past lives. He will have to learn how to live with kids around 24/7, and a wife, and all that entails. And I will likely have to learn how to live with Darth Vader and Batman on my mantle.

He does have one possession which I am quite excited to inherit though. It's called a Dyson, and it's tall and yellow and sucks really, really well.

Intercepting the Light

piperoflove@yahoo.com (Piper of Love) — Mon, 26 Oct 2009 01:51:00 +0000

I made a decision last week that took a lot of nerve. It was a gigantic leap of faith, even though I didn't classify it as such at the time. I was fed up in my situation at work. Disgusted with it actually. So much so that I could no longer stay there in good conscious. I had to move, I had to act. I had to go.

My entire body has been crippled from the tension in that office. The stress I have carried for over a year, which grew daily, and multiplied weekly, has wrought havoc on my nervous system. I have lived in constant pain for more than a year because of the weight of tension and stress I carried at my job.

Not to mention the moral stress. The disgust you have with your superiors, and the things they ask you to do, is pretty hard to live with. It's even harder to justify continuing to do these things, for these people who do not care about the difference in right and wrong.

But what's a girl to do? When she is a single mother, when she has limited formal education, and her extensive and varied work history doesn't seem at all impressive on paper. When she was downsized out of her last two jobs, and had to go three months without a job before finally being hired?

She does whatever she has to do, that's what. She makes it work. She suffers in silence, she swallows her pride, and she prays her way through the immoral, money hungry jungle of evil men who have yet to fall from the weight of their pride.

She chooses to stay positive. She sucks it up. She does what she's asked, she finds little ways to be a blessing in the midst of it so she can feel a little bit better about what it is that she is actually doing for her paycheck.

She remembers what it's like feeding her children from food pantry's. She remembers what it was like being homeless. She calls her job a blessing, and sets about to make it so each day.

Then she goes home, completely spent. She finds new words for weariness. She hates her pain. She doesn't mean to snap at her children, especially since all she wants is for them to feel her love. But she is in pain. Every muscle in her back and neck and chest is so tight that it takes her breath to move. Her skin is so sensitive, it hurts to be touched. Every nerve ending in her body is frayed. She cries on the floor with her heating pad because nothing ever makes it go away.

Perhaps there was something in the air that day, maybe it was just timing, or the grand design of it all, but my breaking point finally came. I was operating at a level of physical and mental exhaustion that was no longer acceptable, or bearable.

When lunchtime came, I walked out the door of my office and didn't go back. And I will never go back to that place again.

Rest assured, I'm not totally hopeless in the job market, I've got a couple of pots on the stove right now for sure.

I also have Mark, which means I have love, and support, and encouragement, and help in ways that I have never had before. I'm so grateful for the love of this man.

I don't know what is next. But I do know that I will never be in that office again, and I like myself for that.

I'm coming out of a dark hole. Yes, my future is still dark, but I'm playing in the light I see. I'm playing because I'm free.

When darkness is all around, look for the beam of light.
Reach your hand out and touch it. Be in the light.
Intercept the light, you will find yourself.
Your shadow, alive in the light.

The Engagement: A (rather lengthy) conversation

piperoflove@yahoo.com (Piper of Love) — Sun, 25 Oct 2009 01:59:00 +0000

So I'm sitting here having an imaginary conversation with everyone who reads this. We're hanging, and you ask, "Hey Mark, how does it feel being engaged? Did you totally love proposing?" Yes, you all sound a bit like Piper, but what can you do, that's the voice I hear.

And I think about your question for a moment, and I respond, "It is the single most transformative event of my life. In a single beat, I received a fiance (imagine your own accent mark over the last e, it feels too pompous to use, and further, I'm lazy) and two wonderful boys. It is both terrific and slightly terrifying. Terrific in all the ways you might imagine. I love those boys so hard. They are unique and special little individuals, and watching them figure things out (and figuring stuff out myself at the same time) and seeing them react to the world is the most fun I've ever had. Well, the most fun I've ever had that can be described in an open forum.

And our dear Piper. What can I say about her that you gentle Readers wouldn't already assume? She's a joy. She is a lens to my light. She helps me focus and see things in a hue I might never have without her. I learn things from her every day. And the beauty is, I get to teach her stuff too. We're learning together. We're learning how to grow entwined, like two vines on a trellis. Each day makes me want her more. C'est amour. I have no idea if that's correct, I don't speak Italian, but you get the gist. (The forewritten sentence was also a joke, clearly, I know Russian when I see it.)

So I hope you can imagine my excitement at being able to give her a Ring of Promise. The One Ring, if you'll allow me a swift descent into nerdery.

Haha, I totally just zerberted her, and she didn't even know it was coming. Johnny Spontaneous, that's me. What was I saying? Oh yes, the Ring.

I hope by now you've seen it, but if not, I'm sure a photo will be provided. Probably right about...here:

I would like to tell you that I was brimming with confidence, every inch the suave man, but I wouldn't lie to you like that. I was a bundle of nerves. A happy bundle, to be sure, but nerves nonetheless. About the time she said ohmigod forty-seven different times (imagine the word dude spoken by a surfer who knows no other word and all the different inflections and connotations that simple word can take, and then project it onto omigod), which was incredibly precious, she finally added a yes and I could get up. We embraced tightly and she pulled back and upon seeing the ring again, squeals omigod and grabs me again. This repeats itself several times. I can't really describe just how happy I was right then. She is such a precious jewel, so full of life, and unafraid to be just who she is (a more rare commodity than it should be). She fills my heart with sun, and I am amazed and joyous to be hers, and for her to be mine."

I gently rouse you from your slumber and apologize, Dear Reader, if my answer seemed to carry on, but on this subject, I tend to expound. It is one of my favorite subjects, you know. Others being movies, civil political discussion (in the fabled place where such a thing can exist) and nerd stuff of all kinds. But I digress...I was seeing you on your way. Thanks for letting me ramble. Until next time.

M.

Fall Fun

piperoflove@yahoo.com (Piper of Love) — Sun, 18 Oct 2009 03:13:00 +0000

There's no reason to be too wordy, these photos pretty much speak 'fall fun' for themselves.

Climb to the top...

... stand still for a picture like a good boy...

... then push your big brother off.

How tall this fall? Almost 4ft. Almost 5ft. Almost 6ft. Almost 7ft.

Yay for Fall!

Taken For a RIDE We'll Never Forget

piperoflove@yahoo.com (Piper of Love) — Fri, 16 Oct 2009 02:10:00 +0000

Has anything ever happened to you that's so unbelievably rad, you suspected you might instantaneously be cashing in on any and all good karma you ever had coming?

Everyone probably has amazing stuff that's happened to them, some once-in-a-lifetime-moment that they'll never forget. The trip we went on last weekend was that moment for my son, Jackson.

(okay, okay, and for me too)

We were invited to fly out to San Diego for the Tony Hawk: RIDE Retreat.

I had actually heard about Tony Hawk: RIDE a few months ago. I was at the game store buying games for Jackson's birthday. The kid behind the counter kept telling me to wait and not get Tony Hawk: Skate It for our Wii. I told him I thought it was cool that Skate It could be played on the Wii Fit, but he wouldn't shut up about Tony's new game. He told me that the new game was going to have an actual skateboard to stand on, as the controller. I thought it sounded cool, but was like, 'dude, my kid's birthday is tomorrow, I'm just going to get Skate It.'

So, when I heard about this trip to demo that game, I already knew about it and so did Jackson, and we were stoked!

We hopped on a plane to California, and a few hours later we were at Tony Hawk, Inc. We got to meet Tony, watch him and his friends skate, and play his new game.

RIDE won't be released until November 17th. So we really did get to play it before almost anyone else in the world will. It's the coolest game I've ever seen. The board is totally wireless, and you can do all the big tricks on it. It's not hard, but it doesn't hurt if you've already got mad skills.

Tony (yeah, first name basis now) was so generous with us. We got to stay there and play for hours. He skated his huge halfpipe with his friends, told us all about the game, showed us how to play the game, and even had dinner with us. It was amazing!

I even made a little video of Tony riding. As proof that I was there, in case my pictures came out looking too good to be true, or something.

AND THEN... as if all that wasn't the most insane amazingness you ever thought you'd experience... on Sunday, we went to Tony Hawk's sixth-annual Stand Up for Skateparks benefit at the exclusive Green Acres estate in Beverly Hills.

I have never been around so many famous people. I'm not a big freak for fame, but when it comes to pro-skaters, I'll admit that I did get a little bit star struck. We met so many people, got the coolest swag, and even watched Blink 182 perform.

But the coolest part for us, and I do mean the very coolest thing that we've ever seen, was sitting right next to the halfpipe watching Tony Hawk, Bucky Lasek, Pierre-Luc Gagnon, Andy Macdonald, Lincoln Ueda, and Kevin Staab ride. Never in a million years could I have made that happen for Jackson. He will never forget it.

We have been home for several days now, and the thing I keep remembering most about the trip was the time I got to spend with my son. One-on-one time with my either of my kiddo's is always prized, but a trip like this was truly a gift. We have enough memories, and shared smiles, to last a lifetime.

I want to thank everyone at Ketchum PR, specifically Stephanie and Amelia, for all their hard work, and all the magic that they made happen for us. Many thanks to the cool people at Activision, they certainly knew how to show a group of mommy bloggers a good time.

Many thanks, again and again, to Tony Hawk, for his time and incredible generosity, and also for the delightful dinner conversation.

Last but not least, thanks to my precious friend Alli Worthington. Without her, none of this would have ever happened.

Skate or Die Again Dude

piperoflove@yahoo.com (Piper of Love) — Fri, 09 Oct 2009 18:00:00 +0000

I'm totally 30K feet in the air right now. Yup, that's right, I'm blogging on an airplane, hammering this post out with my thumbs on my trusty iTouch of love.

Jackson and I were invited to attend this super incredible Tony Hawk RIDE Retreat happening in San Diego. In a few hours we will be meeting Tony Hawk himself and Jackson will get to demo his new game that has a skateboard for a controller. This is amazing that I still can't really believe it's happening myself. (I packed until morning, woke at 4am to catch the first flight out, am on the second plane of the journey and I still don't believe it!)

See, the thing is, this trip is so right up our alley. It's so perfect for Jackson.

This kid of mine is a shredder, or at least he used to be. He started skating when he was 6, and before he was 8 he was carving the big bowls at the skatepark and landing tricks like he'd been skating for 10 years. He was a skater to his core, it was his passion.

But then he had a pretty bad crash that messed with his mind big time. So much that he pretty much quit skating all together. No matter what I've said, any means of coercion, countless 'get back on the horse' speeches, he won't do it. It's been since last January, the last time I saw him ride his board.

I stopped pushing a while back. I only want him to skate if he wants to, not because I pushed. The problem is that I know he loved it, and I know he quit out of fear. It's that rock and hard place I want to wedge between, but haven't been able to.

Jackson bug, this trip is a gift. It's time for just me and you to spend together, and it's the opportunity of a lifetime. I know you'll never forget this weekend, and I don't care if you never ride again. I do want you to ne happy though, and overcoming fears is a pretty big happy-maker. Get back on a skateboard, don't let this beat you. You'll feel amazing if you will, and you'll earn yourself a huge lot of self-esteem and self-confidence to boot. Skate or die, again, dude! Own it, for you.

Here's some pictures of Jackson skating. The last one is the last time he skated, and that green helmet is still brand new.

Exasperated

piperoflove@yahoo.com (Piper of Love) — Wed, 07 Oct 2009 16:22:00 +0000

There are only so many hours in a day people. I'm doing the best I can, so back off me with your 'little reminders' about what you think I should have done and when.

Schools and teachers, you need to quit with your endless notes and papers. It's ridiculous how you act like your thing, your one tiny little minuscule 'issue', is so important that my world should revolve around it. And it's not like this is rare, it's ALWAYS something.

I am a single mom, with two kids in elementary school. I work full time in an office where EVERYONE dumps their crap on me and makes it my problem. I get about three hours to spend with my kids at night. But I also have laundry, cooking, cleaning, bathing, reading logs, projects, and stupid homework assignments. Not to mention discipline, structure, and trying to get my sons to do what they're supposed to without reminding them five times. And then there's grocery shopping, paying bills, and squeezing in quality time.

I consistently have more crap on my plate than anyone should, and it NEVER ends. So pardon me if Noah still can't tie his own shoes, or if his folder wasn't in his backpack today.

There are bigger things happening in the world, aren't there? Get off my back. Don't call me at work to tell me I forgot to remember your piddly inconsequential whatever! Don't sigh at me because I can't go to the school like other moms.

And I will never want to be in the PTA, no matter what, so don't harass me about it anymore.

My boys are healthy, happy, kind, loving, and wicked smart. So, I'm not doing that bad of a job, and I know it, and you and your guilt trips can suck it.

Optically Contagious

piperoflove@yahoo.com (Piper of Love) — Mon, 05 Oct 2009 01:32:00 +0000

Our Sunday lunch is sort of an unspoken tradition. We almost always get fried chicken at the very yummy drive-thru chicken place. I think every other family in town decided they wanted chicken after church today too though, because we had to wait a really long time. (like, five whole minutes, or something)

My camera was still in my purse (from my successful wedding dress shopping trip yesterday *squee*) so I took it out and snapped some waiting-in-the-car-fun-time photo's.

It's interesting how even the simplest unplanned pictures can cause a reaction.

This one makes Jackson think he's hilarious.

These two make me remember why having boys is always interesting, and also that brothers can sometimes get along so well that you will wish you could freeze them like that.

This one proves that yawns are always contagious, even in pictures.

You totally just yawned, didn't you?

The Ring, The Date, And The Place

piperoflove@yahoo.com (Piper of Love) — Mon, 28 Sep 2009 23:36:00 +0000

Before I say anything else, I want all of you to know how much I appreciate the outpouring of love and congrats you've showered upon me since announcing my engagement to Mark.

I'm overjoyed, and Mark is blown away by all the enthusiasm himself. In fact, he's been reading the comments you left several times a day. You may never hear it from him, but he realizes he's inherited a slew of new friends, and he's totally stoked on it. I'm giddy about this entire thing, of course, and he feels like a rock star. It's all just completely wonderful.

I'm going to try not be obnoxious in my revelry during the planning of our wedding. And I will write about other things than wedding details, I promise. But periodically I will have to plunge the depths of prenuptial bliss, and this is one of those times.

Also? I really wanted to show off my ring again *teehee*

I honestly can't stop staring at my hand. It really is the most gorgeous ring I've ever seen, and I'm positive that I'm the luckiest girl in the whole wide world.

It's from the Claral Collection by Tycoon. The center stone is a half Carat rectangular Tycoon Cut, but there are a total of 70 (yup, that's right 70) diamonds in the ring, making the total weight just over 1.5 Carats.

I spend a ridiculous amount of time swooning. I swoon perpetually. I swoon until I don't think I can swoon any longer, only to find myself swooning again. It's probably illegal to be this swoony. (I think Mark knew what he was doing, he's brilliant like that)

*dizzy spinning swoons*

Another also? We have set a date. (that's right kids, we're totally serious about getting married, in case you weren't completely sure)

Until I get the actual Save The Date cards distributed, let me deposit a little reminder in your memory bank.

Saturday, June 26, 2010

Our wedding will take place in this beautiful chapel (which I'm already picturing dripping in flowers).

Can't you just hear the string quartet already?

On top of all that, we've already met with our wedding planner, and I've even named my bridesmaids. But, I'll save all that goodness for a later date.

(Suspense not intended, merely a soft set-up for yet another squee-filled post about our wedding.)

ps. I'm crazy in love with you, Mark.

I Screamed Yes!

piperoflove@yahoo.com (Piper of Love) — Thu, 24 Sep 2009 02:37:00 +0000

It's like there are no other words in my vocabulary. Only yes, oh my God, and yes.

I look at my left hand, trying hard to remember the words he said when he took a knee this afternoon. The words were incredible and sincere and lovely, I'm positive of that, I just couldn't tell you what they were for sure.

He said he's never been happier, I know that. He asked me to be his wife.

All I said was 'OH MY GOD!' about 48 million times.

I lost my breath.

I couldn't speak.

I squeaked a little bit.

And then I said 'OH MY GOD!' about 28 million more times, I think.

At some point I realized he was waiting, still on his knee, for me to answer..

And I screamed yes!

it's the most gorgeous ring I've ever seen

Oh my God!

I'm engaged, I have a fiance, and I'm getting married!

Best of all, it's Mark!

I've never been happier in my whole life.

Rampant Speculation

piperoflove@yahoo.com (Piper of Love) — Sat, 19 Sep 2009 22:49:00 +0000

What if everything you knew about me changed? Like, if I wasn't the same blogging girl that I've always been. Pretty much everyone knows me as a single mom, and that's the way it's always been around here.

I'm the 30ish, Singleish, Mom. That's who I am.

What kind of ride would it be if/when the time comes that I become, say, engaged to be married? What sort of blog would I have then?

The long-time-single-mom-of-two-is-fixin'-to-get-hitched kind, that's what.

If I had a wedding to plan that could get nauseating to my readers, too. Like, if I were all giddy with wedding deets, I'm pretty sure I'd lose a few of my favorite grumpy loyalists, for sure. Because, let's face it, I've been so single for so long that if I ever did find myself in the 'engaged' position, you can bet I'd be writing 'floating on cloud nine' posts for a good long while.

Let me project this speculation even further.

What if after I got married, I decided to have another baby?

I would be a pregnant blogger, but after I had the baby, I might even be *gasp* a *bite my knuckle* mommy blogger!

What did that do for you? Did it blow your mind?

Please realize that there is absolutely nothing definite happening right now, and that this is exactly what it's titled as, rampant speculation. All speculative forecasting notwithstanding, my mind does reel with the possibilities.

Me saying 'I will', saying 'I do', or fathoming the thought of having another baby, all those things are just fantasy right now. Now though, like never before, I do believe that nothing is outside the realm of possibility.

Morning Glory

piperoflove@yahoo.com (Piper of Love) — Thu, 17 Sep 2009 14:00:00 +0000

Sweet mornings of sleepy eyes and the dawning of three new days. Tender moments in the midst of the scheduled super-shuffle. The ninety minutes one mommy has to successfully launch the vessels in her small fleet is no small feat, to be sure.

I've considered at least four different ways to go about writing this, but none of them feel quite right. I feel myself attempting to enter a keep-it-simple, short and sweet, less is more sort of phase lately (though, this, the longest run-on sentence in the history of my blog, makes that statement sound like a lie) so I was going to go with listing my morning routine, interjecting the tenderness that resides within, but that didn't work.

The simple truth is that I've been trying to explain to Mark how it is that I can do what I do at the butt-crack of dawn and not hate it. I, of course, want to be flowery and poetic with my sentiment, in an attempt to convey the warmth of what it's all about.

I want to describe with adequate emotion the abundance of what it is that makes it wonderful, but I can't. All I can do, I'm afraid, is show this picture, and say that waking a sleeping child is a ritualistic process that can sometimes simultaneously test you, break you, and fill you up with the meaning of life.

Mornings are a gift. It's always a whole new day.