39 things

I just turned 39.  One week ago, to be exact. I think it's so interesting  that I've always looked forward to my thirties.  In fact, I can't recall ever being afraid to get older. Or even elderly. I do have a plan, and that is to take in every second of my final year as a thirty-something (anyone remember that show?) I also wrote a list of goals for the next twelve months, not a bucket-list really, just reminders to myself about some things I'd like to learn or do . . . some bigger tasks, others tiny blips, and in no particular order.

1.   Start sewing again (this first requires that I either give my 28yr old machine an overhaul or buy a new one)
2.   Focus more on the positive (for those who don't know me well, I'm a bit of a pessimist)
3.   Learn to play either the piano or guitar
4.   Buy new sheets
5.   Knit myself a sweater and pair of socks
6.   Bake bread every week
7.   Exercise (this one feels heavy already--I DON'T enjoy exercising)
8.   Grow house plants.  My poor Christmas cactus is lonely.
9.   Give several rooms in the house a fresh coat of paint
10. Organize the basement
11.  Take better care of my flower beds
12.  Remember more birthdays
13.  Give hand-made gifts
14.  Add some crazy color to my hair for fun
15.  Get a nose piercing (again)
16.  Volunteer
17.  Kiss my husband more
18.  Call my mom more often
19.  Play in the rain with the kids
20.  Use the computer less
21.  Plan meal menus
22.  Host more gatherings with family & friends
23.  S I M P L I F Y
24.  Visit my grandparents monthly
25.  Raise my voice less often
26.  Take time everyday to send up prayers
27.  Dance any chance I get (and play Just Dance 2! Hey, maybe that's my ticket to exercise!)
28.  Smile more, even when I don't feel like it
29.  Create (draw, paint, knit, craft, write)
30.  Spend more one-on-one time with each of my children
31.  Schedule household jobs with the goal of taking less time to accomplish them
32.  Attend more live performances
33.  Visit more museums
34.  Own my wrinkles, changing skin and body
35.  Speak with gentleness
36.  Don't worry!  Be happy!
37.  Learn to can
38.  Live with more peaceful and loving intention
39.  Be more zen about the condition of my house (translation-quit being so damn anal!)

I see this list as fluid, maybe changing and certainly not complete.  Thirty-nine is going to be a fabulous year!

This old house

Built in 1850, and the carriage house for the home next door, the two-story brick house we bought eight and a half years ago is something special.  I know I'm not alone in adoring my house, but it feels good to write it down.  To acknowledge the little things that make it so. 

Thomas and I have weathered horrendous personal storms and celebrated new beginnings here. Those are certainly times to remember.

We've hosted family gatherings and chatted with our dearest friends around the dining room table. Another tick in the special column.

Three of our children were born here, two in our upstairs bedroom and one right in the middle of the living room.  This is the place where our children learn, play, question and are inspired. That's EXTRA special!  

And next week we'll celebrate another Christmas here. Each holiday imprinting new and etched-in-our-hearts forever memories.  The kind of memories that keep you warm when it's -5 and remind you of what's "worth keeping." 

For all its negatives (well, being this old means there are plenty!), there are more positives. And what's really interesting is that even some of those negatives are actually positives in disguise. Its small rooms sometime make me feel boxed in and squished, but I also love how cozy that feels. Less space to clean feels pretty damn good too! Crooked old pine floors can be a pain to sweep, with last night's toast crumbs or play dough remnants hiding in the space between the boards.  But how incredible to think about the people whose feet walked these floors.

We have definitely outgrown this house, space-wise anyway.  The time will come when we decide to move on, but for now I'll continue to enjoy living in this old house.

Thankful Thursday. Taking comfort in...

I've had a rough few days.  Between parenting the older kids, comforting a fussy baby, and trying to get ready for a weekend trip, I feel emotionally tapped out and overwhelmed. And my body is in need of many things.  Like sleep. And exercise (ick!). I have a sneaking suspicion that I may also be experiencing some postpartum blues. I cry a lot, often letting silent tears run down my cheeks when everyone else is enjoying sweet slumber.

Vivien isn't the happiest baby I've ever met; she is a Virgo after all. She seems uncomfortable in her little body.  She grunts and squirms A LOT.  She cries A LOT. In some moments, I feel like she doesn't want me and my heart hurts. And then my heart hurts when I can't seem to comfort her; when she doesn't want to nurse, or rock, or be held in my arms. Maybe her spirit is just too big for her small package right now, and as her body grows, so will her ease in navigating the world within it. I'm really trying to work through this with her; reminding her that we chose one another and that I'm so happy she's here. We all are. I guess we just have to convince her to be happy too.

In not being able to comfort my baby, I've thought a lot about the things I take comfort in. Maybe those things will help calm Vivien. Or myself, when I feel like my ears might explode from listening to her scream for an hour straight. When I find comfort in something it's because I can count on it. It's a rock. So I made a list.

~ James Taylor

Whenever I listen to his music, I get to feeling peaceful.  Kind of groovy even.  His voice is smooth, unique, and his lyrics conjure up images that touch me in the sweetest, most nostalgic ways. The most incredible live concert I ever went to was his.  I've danced with my babies to "Sweet Baby James" a hundred times, snuggling them up to my chest and breathing in their sweaty hair.  I've listened to "You've got a Friend" over and over on an old 45 record. I've belted out "Fire & Rain" time after time while driving in the car.  James' music has been a friend through the many bumps in my path and in shiny, golden moments.

~ Late Night with Jimmy Fallon

What can I say?  I've got a crush on Jimmy.  I often fall asleep during his show, but I love it, and him, just the same. I fell in love with him when he was on Saturday Night Live and he is even funnier now.  There's nothing like a good hearty laugh, and I'm almost guaranteed one of those when watching his show.  My childhood was filled with laughter.  From my dad and his brothers, re-telling old, crazy stories. To my mom, chatting away about silly matters with the neighbors or her sisters.  And then to my sister and I, dressed up in lingerie, singing away on our front porch or singing "Washington Woman" with my dad.  Laughter is the best medicine isn't it?

~ My well-worn, 8 year old couch

I've always had a "thing" about my place on a couch.  As a kid, I could often be found in "the crack," that most comfy spot right where two cushions meet. I wasn't the only one who coveted that position either. Us kids would argue about who got to sit in it. Who doesn't want to feel warm and cozy, right? Now I perch myself at the arm, just under the lamp, with legs curled up. It's where, for the past several years, I've read to my children, talked with my husband, and visited with guests. It's where I write shopping lists, take phone calls, and sip on the lattes that Thomas makes for me. It's simply my spot.

~ The Hubs & Kiddos

Especially when everyone is home. Then we're in our own cocoon, safe. And loud! As much as the noise can grate on my nerves, I feel immense gratitude for the people that are the source of it.  This my greatest comfort.  It's then that I'm reminded of just how beautiful, abundant and marvelous my life is.

Music. Laughter. Warmth. Love.

The things I cling to when it's almost 2a.m and I've yet to fall asleep for the night because I'm cuddling a spirited baby girl. (smile)