Heads Up!

Let's clear one thing up before we get started, shall we?

This isn't a real post. This is a thinly veiled attempt at "blogging" but it is really just a way to get pictures that I really enjoy to people that mean something to me, rather than bored FaceBook browsers...

But I plan to post that I blogged on FaceBook so...

It's a wash.

Bottom line, don't expect much witty blog banter or deep mothering thoughts from this one.

Moving on...

I have recently checked off one of my bucket list items.

Actually, I haven't made a bucket list, but if I were to do such a thing, this would have been on it.

I, modest mouse that I am, gathered my courage and sat for a pinup photo shoot.

I LOVE the 40s and 50s style. One of my new friends in Arizona has often lamented that I was born in the wrong era. After my experience with this photo adventure, I am inclined to agree.

There are a couple things you should know about that were weighing on my mind prior to the event:

1. I am not terribly fond of being photographed. I am inclined to enjoy my appearance as I see it in the mirror, and more days than not feel satisfied with the way I present myself to the world. But somehow, when I look at photos of myself, I look nothing like what I see in the mirror. In a very disappointing way.

2. I, along with most women, fear bathing suits and much prefer fancy wraps and floaty cover-ups when dressing for the beach or pool.

3. I have never worn red lipstick.

It is a very good thing that my brave friend Robyn flew to visit me, expressly for the purpose of a journey back in fashion times. She was a great moral booster and cheered me one while I held endless poses that I'm ashamed to say made my legs shake from exertion. I would have hate to have posed with out a year of Crossfit under my belt!

If given the chance, I will gush about the sitting. Everything was delightful. Thrilling really. I'm warning you, don't give me the chance!

But let's cut to the chase.

The pictures.

Look at the colors!

Look at the lips!

Look at my legs!!

Actually,

when I picked up my prints

I confessed to the photographer

that I had a hard time believing

that she hadn't cut and pasted

somebody else's legs on my torso...

My unfriendly thoughts about

my bottom half have been the slowest to resolve...

But she assured me that with proper posing

anybody can have great legs!

Lesson learned.

But mostly, let's talk about the hair.

That is not my hair. That is a wig.

The wigs were my favorite, favorite part of the whole day (we were there for more than four hours).

First we picked out our outfits. How I ended up in a bathing suit beats me, but I just put it on and didn't want to take it off. (Not even for a stunning mauve party dress. You can expect those pictures when I schedule my next sitting!)

Then make up.

And finally wigs.

The whole thing felt sort of silly until she plopped the first wig on my head. Then it was like I was a whole new person. Like I could change myself with every flip of the wig. It was magic I tell you!

We tried tons... a long red one, a short blond one, curly, straight, all shades of brown...

I loved it so much that I am fairly certain I am going to purchase a wig or two and wear them on a regular basis. Just because the joy of wigs is a secret that should no longer be kept!!

I have a slight confession to make. A few days after the shoot, I had planned to go to bed early, but I started looking at wigs online and I gazed from page to page, review after review, until I got a headache. I think I probably looked at wigs for about three hours that night.

Obsessed.

I am aware.

The only solution is to buy a wig. I know it!

So, if the next time you see me I am no longer sporting my pixie cut, or have suddenly gone Marilyn Monroe blond... you can give me a little wink and we can smugly smile to each other thinking, "Aren't wigs incredible!?"

Actually, you will probably be thinking, "Emily is out of her mind." But I will be happily ignorant of that and strut around confidently in my purchased hair.

I can't wait!

Sick Day

Last night I was sick.

Really Sick.

This evening Andy asked me, "Are you going to tell people about it?" and I emphatically said "No!" I said, "Are YOU going to tell people about it?" He assured me that the details are mine to keep. I figure "it" - believe me, "it" needs the quotation marks! - will become one of those stories a few years down the road that we pull out to demonstrate how our marriage has developed and why we remain so deeply in love. But it really will have to wait a few years.

Moving on...

After two long naps and a glass of apple juice, I was well enough to sit on the couch. But that was about it.

Luckily, Jack was a dream today. It was all I could manage to select a show for him to watch from our DVR. Usually, if I have too many shows on in a day I notice that he gets really feisty and sassy from being too sedentary and having too little of my attention. But today he entertained himself and told me cute stories and at random moments would come kiss my hair or coo at Joey.

When I did turn the tv off he curled up on the couch with me and Joey and played a game he invented which involved him trying to stick a turquoise rock in my belly button. He thought it was hilarious. I usually hate having my belly button (not my belly... my belly button) touched, but I made an exception because he liked it so very much.

I would like you to know

that I almost

wrote a little quip

about expecting his hand

to get lost in the folds of my tummy

but I didn't

because,

well,

it isn't true.

I love this body of mine that has

grown and birthed two sweet boys.

I will continue to love and care for it

regardless of what I want it to be - right now

or what it once was and no longer is.

Despite feeling so yucky, I thought, "This is a sweet life."

In other news:

At six-weeks postpartum, something magical happened. I don't remember such a sudden shift with Jack (I don't remember a lot about those first few months with Jack), but with Joey, the first few weeks I really wondered if I was going to bounce back.

Now, things are still hard. I'm still tired, but life seems manageable. The shift was so dramatic that I wondered if there is some hormone flush that happens at that point, or if that is how long it takes your body to acclimate to a torturous sleep cycle... or if there is some other physiological change that happens exactly at that milestone.

It could be that, or it could just be that I have mastered a few essential life skills with two babies:

• I can pack the diaper bag, get them out the door and load them into the van all by myself.
• I can nurse Joey and walk, if needed, to retrieve destructive or noisy toys from Jack.
• I can bathe both boys at the same time.
• I can leave the house without my hair fixed and not feel all that bad about it.
• And I survived Andy being gone for a full four days... joyfully!

In addition to the practical skills, I think I've let go of some pretty harsh expectations I've had for myself (see above, tummy side note). Everyone in my life loves me, regardless of how put together I look when go out, or how much I do or don't get done, or even how much more frequently I struggle to be patient with Jack and fail.

I am loved.

And recognizing that has lifted a load.

I know that there are many good days and many hard days before me. But this evening, I am once again enjoying the journey. God has good things in store for this family and I am so happy to be where I am.

He Said, She Said... Attempt One

Have I mentioned before that I adore my husband?

He is so good for me.

We just celebrated our third anniversary and in those three years I have learned how to talk about my feelings without sobbing. I have learned to care less about what people think of me. And I have learned how to sneak veggies into almost everything.

There are still a million things I can learn from him, but the beauty of marriage is that I have my entire life to glean from his wisdom. Additionally, the beautiful thing about Andy specifically is that he is so patient with me while I learn and he forgives so quickly when I haven't learned.

Yes, I truly love the man I married.

But marriage isn't all doe-eyed and rose-scented. Lots of you probably know how hard it is through experience. And lots of you have probably seen or heard how difficult it is through other married friends. True, it is hard.

It is difficult and it is sweet. And somewhere in the middle it is very, very entertaining.

The difference between me and Andy is huge. He is all man. I take that as permission to be all woman. We process information in different ways, we use the same words to mean something totally different. There are lots of differences.

I'm going off on a tangent. What I really wanted to share are two sound bytes of real life with my husband.

Last night we came home from church and it was later than usual. In general we go to a service at 6 PM and get home around 8ish. Jack usually goes right into his pajamas and then into bed, but he was being SO charming that we let him stay up for a while.

By the time he was tucked in though, it was already 9:00 and I got the cleaning bug. Our landlord is coming over tonight (long story I won't bore you with) and whenever she does I feel compelled to present myself as the pinnacle of housewifery (did you know this word is actually in the dictionary). So I started doing that frantic clean up that includes taking everything off the counters and using a q-tip in dirty corners. The problem with this kind of cleaning is that it never, ever ends. There is always something else that needs to be dusted or organized or washed.

Sigh.

So as I was swept away in the cleaning my dear husband said, "You know you can take a break."

I can?

Oh.

So I would sit down on the couch for like two seconds and then pop up again to do something else.

I think he gave me a gentle reminder to rest about three times before I finally decided, "He's right. None of this will matter in a few weeks, or even tomorrow."

So I sat down on the couch and watched Amazing Race and let Andy scratch my back.

Yep, he's a good man.

But that STILL isn't what I was going to tell you about!

That wasn't even one of the 'bytes!

Argh!

I should know better than to try and have a point when I'm talking about my hero, there are just too many things to say.

I should also know better than to try and have a point when I'm pregnant.

Bear with me please.

Oh never mind. I'll have to tell you tomorrow. I'll warn you now, I'm going to skip the preamble and just jump right to my two favorite things Andy every said.

Not favorite romantic things.

Just comments that he's made about

our life.

If I skip the lead in maybe I can get them out before you start to fall asleep and drool at your desk.

Yes, I know you are reading this when you should be working.

Shame on you.

But I'm glad you read it anyway.

So, until tomorrow...

Three Cheers for Andy!

Open Arms

Sweet autumn, welcome!

Today I woke up to a thin fog and air cool enough to make me slide my windows shut. Later, when I ran my errands the sun was out, warm enough to cause me to take off my scarf and drive with a breeze blowing through the driver side window.

As I ate my lunch, I watched as the sun became less bright and a delicious wind shook the trees outside.

And as if all those delightful meteorological conditions were not enough, I get to fall asleep to the comforting sound of rain. Big, fat, cold drops of rain falling outside while I am warm and dry in my bed.

Oh Washington, it is good to be home. Oh Fall, I am so glad you have come!

Moving On

It happened today.

My brain and my heart have bid farewell to Summer and have switched to fall.

Yes, yes. I realized that we have just started August and that there is still a month left of heat and shorts and corn on the cob all those summery things... but in just a few short weeks, we will reach September.

Ahhh. Can we all let out a sigh of relief together?

Many of you know my affinity (obsession?) with the autumn season. Something about it just brings me alive. The smells, the sounds, the food, the temperature, the pumpkins....

Just thinking of those things sends thrills through me.

You may be wondering though, how did I make such a dramatic shift?

Well it happens around this time, most every year, so it was only a matter of days. But this year what moved me from summer to fall was Horton.

As in Horton Hears a Who.

Either last year or the year before the Broadway cast of the Dr. Suess story danced in the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade. This morning Jack and I were playing with the stuffed Horton that he received last Christmas ... and it just hit me. I am ready for fall.

I am ready for scarves.

And trips to the pumpkin patch.

Oh the trips to the pumpkin patch.

I am ready for spiced cider.

For full length pants.

For soup.

Glorious soup.

I'm ready for cinnamon.

And nutmeg.

And cloves.

I'm ready for candles.

For cool evenings that invite cuddling.

And Back to School sales.

And sending Ellery off to Kindergarten.

And for a growing baby bump.

Oh, friends. I am ready!

Chapter Books

Do you remember the books you read growing up?

Until I was a teenager my dad tucked me in every night and read to me. Bed time stories are one of my most fond and vivid memories of childhood.

Some nights he would read to both Lizzie and me together, but as we got older we occasionally got our own stories.

When I was pregnant with Jack I had a melt down after imagining my baby at age five saying, "Dad, can you tell mom not to read to me anymore?" Oh I cried!

Luckily, Jack loves being read to. Brown Bear, Brown Bear is still on the top of his fav list, as is a book with fuzzy dogs that he often will kiss. He now licks any pages that have food pictures and holds pictures of soft animals, such as kittens and ducklings, to his chest with a sweet, loving expression on his face.

As I have been moving furniture and rearranging the last month or so, I stumbled across one of my childhood favorites: "Sideways Stories From Wayside School."

Anyone? Anyone?

If you didn't get to enjoy this literary masterpiece in first grade, go out and get a copy from the library and as you read it, imagine how funny you would have thought it was.

I just finished reading nine chapters to Ellery (she's spending the night) and my throat is so scratchy. Not only was it a lot of chapters, she also requested the fan blow right on her so the whole time I was reading I was breathing in dry air.

Cough, cough.

But do you remember the books you loved in your childhood?

The Chronicles of Narnia

Encyclopedia Brown (I used to think that my dad made these up just for Liz and me, but then discovered that there are many E.B. books out there)

Stewart Little

The Littles

The Boxcar Children

Nancy Drew

...

We won't even go into Babysitters Club and Sweet Valley High...

Oh happy memories.

I wonder what the book of the year will be when Jack is ready for chapter books.

If he's still letting me read to him at that time.

Keep your fingers crossed people. If he isn't, one of my dreams of motherhood will be dashed.

Let's not even talk about it.

So if any of you have even the slightest inkling to write chapter books for elementary school kids, especially ones that appeal to boys, get started now! Jack and I will be looking in a few years.

What books did you devour as a kid? Which would be worth stock-piling now (when I see them at yard sales)?

In other book news, I received a windfall of loaned literature yesterday and can't wait to get started. You can expect a full report when I have finished. And since reading is about all that I have energy for now, I would appreciate any other recommendations. Nothing too serious please.

Happy Reading!

Good Morning Monday

I love my living room.  

For one, it is the room I spend the most time in (or at least tied with the kitchen).  It is where Jack and I play catch and read our books.  It is where Andy and I cuddle into the couch to watch CSI or Biggest Loser.  It is where I fold laundry or ignore the laundry with my latest book selection.

It is also walled with three giant windows that face east.  I have come out of my bedroom the last week and been greeted by early sun.  The days are getting longer and sky clearer.  As I open the blinds each morning, Jack smiles and then turns his head to avoid the glare, then I sing our morning song:

Way up in the sky

The little birds fly

While down in their nest

The baby birds rest

The bright sun comes out

The dew falls away

Good morning!

Good morning! 

The little birds say

Usually, after our wake up routine Jack is eager to get on the floor and check on all of his toys.  He crawls from one corner of the room to the other, playing with each of his favorites.  While he checks on everything I make some chai, check my e-mail and do whatever else I need to do to get the ol' gal moving.

The plan this morning was to feed ourselves and then while my sweet babe explored I would put on my gym clothes and whisk us both to the gym for an energizing work out (play time). 

However, as is often the case, Jack is unpredictable.  All of my plans have to be flexible.  This morning Jack has snot pouring out of his nose, a feeble little cough and a creeping temperature.  Poor baby.  I'm sure he would be fine playing at the gym, but i don't really want to be that mommy who brings her sick kid and infects all the other kids.  At least not today.

So instead of making the trek, we're cuddling and playing quite games.  Jack gets a quick burst of energy and plays with abandon, and then crawls back to me to sit quietly on my lap.  I am sorry that he doesn't feel well, but boy to I love the way he melts into me!

I'm imaging a day of more, but shorter naps, lots of story reading and most likely no shower.  My mind is racing, thinking of all the things that I should, could and want to do: clean out the fridge, explore my dreams, catch up on e-mails, plan March's menu, research planting a vegetable garden, fold the laundry, clean my room, vacuum and sweep... Then there are the things that I had planned to do, and now need to move to a later day: grocery shopping, taking Andy's clothes to the dry cleaner, the gym...

I want to feel productive.  I want to have something to show for the end of this day.  But truthfully, very little will probably actually get done.  Andy will come home and the laundry will still be on the couch.  I will still be in my robe and dinner will not be finished.  

I'm okay with it.  Luckily for me, Andy is okay with it too. 

My novel and glass of water are positioned right next to the couch, for those moments when Jack dozes asleep in my arms and I choose to just hold him rather than put him in his crib.  

The dishes are done because last night I made sure that when I woke up at least one room in my house would be clean, so at least that is something.

Regardless of how many checks I get to put on my list, today is still going to be a great day.  Never again will Jack be one day away from being 11 months old.  Never again will it be February 23, 2009.  Today is special.  It holds great promise.  

I am going to enjoy it.  Living this day, with passion, energy and love.  

This is the day the Lord has made.  I will rejoice and be glad in it. 

Happy Sigh

Have you ever had a moment when you think to yourself, "Who am I that I get to lead this beautiful life?"

I hope you have.

I hope you have had them often.

I had one this afternoon.

I spent a leisurely morning with a ridiculously happy baby (whose new game is to flush the toilet and dance wildly to the sound of the running water) and a dear friend.  I had a filling breakfast in a new and quaint cafe.  When we got home, Jack went straight to bed and I lounged on the couch with a new novel.  

Happy sigh.

Jack woke up with a grin and spent ten quite minutes snuggling in my arms and bestowing on me his sweet smile.  

Andy came home from work and took my face in his hands and reminded me that to him, I am incredibly beautiful.

I spent an hour out of the house, leaving Jack with dear and trusted friends.  When I came home, he was waiting for me and greeted me with giggles, hugs and slobbery kisses. 

In a time where so many feel insecure and unsure of their jobs or frustrated in their relationships, I feel safe and loved. 

My heart is full.

I never want to take these simple, lovely, overflowing days for granted.  

Who am I that I live this beautiful life?