a blank page. a new post. refresh button.

hooray for handmade print available in my shop.

i hear / feel / watch my thoughts rumbling around in my soul (tumble dry) and i know i need to write them. just write them. just get them down. it's simple. easy peasy. i'm a self-proclaimed writer, i do this. this should not be hard. hurry and write something decent; a pretty prose or something completely imperfect. just write. you know you know how. you know you've done it before. (oh how full of writer's guilt i've been.) and then another must-do pops up, or a nose needs to be wiped and dishes need to be done or beds need to be made or naps need to be taken and the rhythm of my to-do list shoves out my last thoughtful thought and therein i miss a moment to reflect, write and learn something from the process. letting things spill from my head to my fingers to the page. often, words i wish to be written down are not unlike the loner striped socks that remain loosely out of place, scattered and without a proper home. yet they are still persistent enough not to be thrown out entirely. they lurk in the laundry room and elsewhere. my loner socks and tumbling thoughts (admittedly) haven't been properly lined up, paired up or folded into neat drawers for what seems like months. i'm calling myself out on this.

not to say that i haven't been living a fulfilling, exciting, filled to the brim, joyful life these past non-blogging months. oh i have!! there's so much to tell. no way i can catch up. i've been so fulfilled and busy and happy, i wondered if i really needed blogging at all in this season of life. i've thought a lot about that. honestly however my mind gains clarity when i write things out. to me, crisp keys on a typewriter is as calming as lapping waves of the bluest water on the beach. sitting here, my cluttered brain sits still for awhile and i remember what discipline and practice and vulnerability and creativity mean again. frankly i am more frightened of writing it all out there like i used to. i'm out of practice and feeling vulnerable to opening up. so stay with me. i'll braven up as i type along, i'm sure (i hope).

ever thanks for the encouragement and amazing connections i still feel from you. (so thoughtful to receive emails from those of you who were concerned about little ol' me!!) i can't even begin to tell you all the good things that have come from blogging. here i am, to start anew.

xo.

lessons from my littles / jumping hurdles without jumping in

boy it's hard to figure out what to blog about these days. admittedly, i am sucked into instagram because it is sooo easy. forget the written word and all the time it takes to jot a post and photoshop pics, here's my cute kids! here is a snapshot with a small caption, and voila, end of story, i can connect with rad people and instagram is an insta-success for a non-socialmedia-mama! but then, there is always a story within every single day. truthfully i wonder how not to blog about my boys. family life, motherhood, daily tasks and life with littles is the main thing i have going. i know i am likely saying the same things again and again, but that's what a lot of motherhood is about. it is hard to think up a subject without thinking of what these boys have taught me recently.

i have a few ongoing design projects, but most of them and are kept hidden until the client wants to debut them.. so anyway my main life is my daily world with my kids (on repeat). in house, outdoors, taking drives, creating outings, making memories and hopefully raising them into kind loving people. so grateful to have a hands-on husband to help me along this parenthood route. i try to remember what benji says and jot his hilarious statements down in my favorite little quote book of his. four is all about growing, learning new things, testing limits and being sweeter than pie. he prays often and has such a sincere relationship with God. it's no wonder he teaches me so much. i really feel that children are here to give us new eyes and gain new insights if not a completely new perspective. i've been known to say that two kids has flipped my world upside down. in the best way possible, of course.

today i stopped and looked at them with new eyes. this happens almost once a day. they teach me so much. seth is learning to crawl. more specifically he is perfecting the plank position. it's really amazing to watch. he gets on his hands and knees, in a classic crawl and then switches to plank and drops to scoot himself around on his belly in an army crawl. i marvel that he has to learn the hard way. he has to drag himself through the motions until he learns the easier way through. isn't that how life is?! isn't that the way we learn from our mistakes? we learn the hard way and with practice, we get better and better and suddenly we realize all that dragging through life's challenges was only strengthening us. and, although benji is trying hard to teach seth how to crawl properly, no one can do it for him. seth has to learn on his own. so very true with life. we must learn and grow and figure out problems and develop our talents by ourselves. we have to go through the process to better ourselves. this is the golden part of life. even though it's so tough to watch. aren't your most valuable moments in life after coming through a trial?! isn't coping with difficulties the method of sculpting stronger souls; molding us into who we are?! as a mother i want to hurry his progress and help him crawl because i know it will be a lot less frustrating for him; but i know better. i know this is one of many hurdles he has to conquer on his own. so we clap and praise and holler and hug. we do all we can to help him help himself. a lesson i will surely be learning again and again as a mama.

benji has taken on the roll of big brother with great courage. he is such a good helper and is so very patient with our latest addition. he always creates stories about two brothers whenever he is imagining up a new tale. he is confident and happy and quick to forgive. i am so grateful he loves to be obedient. always trying to do what's right. seth loves him so much, what a joy it is to have a brother. however i know it must be hard to be four and learn about the bigness of life; the rules of right and wrong and figuring out how to be brave and honest and good and thankful and polite and know when and where ninja moves are appropriate. controlling our tempers and eating our vegetables and becoming an understanding and empathetic individual takes practice. practice is easier to come by with a little brother scooting around getting into our things. although i've tried with all my heart not to place too much older brother pressure on him, i know he must feel it. his life has changed in such a big way. he shares his mom and dad now. thankfully children are so wholesome and good, he wouldn't ever think to keep us only for himself. the only way children know how to love, is completely and wholly. i praise him and hug him and thank him for all he does. i do what i can to say you're awesome to go through this huge transition with a smile.

tonight my favorite thing happened. benji, all on his own, sang his baby brother to sleep. i waited in the darkened hallway–nearing their door, about to come to the rescue–when i heard him kindly solving the problem with a song. i stood motionless, not daring to move or creak the floorboards beneath my feet. i melted into a puddle as benji's primary song, i like to look for rainbows, calmed seth down immediately. and then they both fell back asleep in their room. i wanted to burst in and hug them both and tell them thank you for being such good boys. but i knew i would ruin the moment (and wake them both up)! another moment for me as a mama to stay by the sidelines and cheer. i silently thanked God for my many blessings and all the lessons i'm learning day by day.


benji loves baking with mama | seth perfects his plank in our hotel room

become as little children | inspiration: here, here and here. 

designing a book layout / part one

lets start at the very beginning. a screenshot of InDesign, my favorite software for designing books!

this is the part i love about book building. did you know i design books? i rarely mention it (read more about it and the books i've designed right here.)! but that is what i do, or did, before baby number two came along. so here i go. i am starting another big project. i thought i may as well try to capture up some of the process of designing a book right here on my blog while i'm doing it.

here is a screen shot of my current design work. i'm currently playing around with fonts and page design. it looks so simple, yet so much has already begun in this process of designing a book. the beginning is like making a birth plan. you can't begin to birth a baby before having some sort of plan (of course this is not the best metaphor. as most of us mamas know that those birth plans go right out the window by the first contraction. hello surprise c-section!! hello doctor i've never met before! hello baby with red hair!! hello post-baby recovery no one tells you about!!) okay, so by comparison, books do come out a bit more smoothly than screaming red faced babes. but still, it's a big deal and you've got to be prepared for the unknown. here are my tips (and thoughts in general) about building a book.

this is one of my favorite things to do (and a big part of my freelance work as a designer) which is why i want to document it in the blog!

designing a book. / my thoughts.

1. gathering gems. after obtaining all the materials, photographs and text from the client or writer, we discuss their hopes and dreams for their book. usually these books are life histories, which means this book is their legacy that will hold true long after they are gone. (no pressure, right!?) i scan all of their precious papers and photographs (editing out the not-so-great to really spotlight the amazing images is hard for the client to do with so much sentimental value tied into them. it's helpful for an outsider like me to take a look at the images and quickly realize which ones best pack a pow and belong on the page!).

i've held marriage certificates that have traveled across seas in leather trunks and have been folded so tightly they almost crack as i scan them. these clients have a great deal of trust in me and i hold their items with care! i love seeing love letters and saved children's art! of course, scanning a giant pile of documents isn't always fun; it's tedious work. however this part is essential for ME to do (and not be handed off to my imaginary intern) because it is how i come to know (and usually fall in love) with the subjects of these books (my dad, Dee Halverson, is a historian and is typically the author of the books i layout). i thoroughly enjoy browsing old photographs, vintage yearbooks and incredibly dated wedding ensembles!

2. let the pieces fall into place. after i've lived with the tangible pieces of a person's history and read their story–in the text that i'll be formatting next–i start understanding their personalities, their priorities and what they take pride in. i try to see what they hold dear and what they value and what people loved about them. i want the book to 'look like' them. i want the subject's children and friends to recognize their loved one within the pages of the book. (this is no easy task!!) with the subject and his or hers loves and likes and style in mind, i try choosing fonts and design elements to coordinate. this is beyond tricky, yet it's my favorite part. deciding upon the fonts, the spacing, the size and format, the overall look and theme of the pages, picking icons and headings, etc. i start mixing all the right ones in and letting the wrong ones go. it is not unlike ingredients all lined up on a kitchen counter. and then i begin. dabbing a bit here and there and sometimes starting all over (like throwing out salty cookie dough) if it just feels wrong. i maybe shouldn't admit this too freely, but i'll let you in on a little secret. i go by my gut in most of my work. it has to feel right. it has to feel right. it has to feel right. after plenty of practice, trusting my gut has become so much easier.

3. it's not over 'til it's over. this tip should come at the end of the process, but i had to put it out there first and foremost. it's one of the main lessons i've learned. over the ten years i've been designing books, i have come to know that it ain't over til it's printed, bound and in your hands. just because you've finished the designs, created a nearly perfect pdf. and sent it to the printer... does not mean you are off the hook! you are likely not finished! don't breathe a sigh of relief yet! hold your breath until that babe (book) is born!

if you don't take it nice and slow, rookie mistakes can be made! there may be unlinked images (oh no!), a font that hasn't been outlined or a page turned upside down during the printing process! just wait and wait and be patient. and do your best to cross your t's and dot your i's.

wow. i had no idea i had so much to say on the subject. do you have questions? is this completely random? my designing notes, to be continued.

thoughts on making an imprint.

image source // photography by maree turner.

these days i can't stop from thinking about the impression one can make. the lasting imprint that one life can create. the ripple effect; the story that your life tells. the unfolding of all of your flaws and goodness and the habits and small wrinkles and dimples–in character and appearance–that make you you. the small details that weave you into the person you have become. then there are the colorful sparks that connect you to others and suddenly make you fall for someone. not just in a lover, but a dear friend too. the awesome magic that makes two people click and just get each other (don't you love that!?). the commonalities and differences and moments that you are there for each other. the memories that you never forget. the times that cement two friends into friends for life. even if you just know each other for a season. it's the magic that was meant for that season and you never forget them. and you have this understanding: we knew each other then–our lives have moved on–but our friendship remains.

i've been contemplating what i've taken from my past and how i am shaped by who i've been connected with. i then carry the wonder of what i'm creating for my future. who i am and what i'm adding to the people in my life. what imprint am i leaving on those around me? and more importantly, is it a good one? is it an impression that will last? does what i do count? these thoughts motivate me to make moments matter.

a tragedy has befallen my friend and my heart is going out to her. it is one of those times where you feel helpless when you so badly wish you could be helpful. if nothing else, my prayers are full of her and i am reminded once again to love the nitty gritty of life. to love the wet shoes piled on the rug by the back door. the legos and the laundry. the warm bodies who land softly and surround me in my bed in the morning hours. i am reminded to love deeper and say what i mean and mean what i say and let grudges go and forgive freely. to make more pancakes. to text funny hellos and scrawl mirrored notes with lipstick. to not hesitate when i feel an urge to do something nice for someone else.

i've been reflecting on how fragile life is. how can i squeeze the most out of the opportunities i've been blessed with? how can i shine right where i am? how can i make life brighter for those who know me? i am inspired to leave an impression. to be the me that i want to be and to try to bring out the best in others. to start a revolution of loveliness in my own home. today i held my boys in my lap, rubbing their soft hair and smoothing their angel cheeks and listening to their honey-laden voices and watching them with more intensity than usual. my amazement directed at their growth and strength and innocence and potential(!!!). what a gift it is to be a mother. to be their mother. not to forget, to be a wife. a wife to my best friend. (what a joy. i have the best job on earth.) i can't help but wonder, what will they remember? and what is it that i am giving to them in my daily living–my attitude, my language, my touches, my praises–as a lasting impression for them to hold onto. it's good for me to set aside the stuff that doesn't matter much to pause and contemplate what does.


your days make up your life.
live them well.

home is wherever i'm with you.

halloween 2012.

the other night i tucked my boys into bed. swaddled mr. seth slept soundly in his cradle while–across the country–superstorm sandy raged its way through the east coast, ripping up boardwalks, pummeling boats and tunneling harsh waves through narrow new york city streets. breaking glass, knocking down power lines, pushing past barriers, soaking subway lines, beating down doors and plucking full grown trees out like they were weeds. i sang my boys a few songs and did the bedtime routine of tickling and storytime and nightlights and prayers and kisses. meanwhile fearful families huddled onto freeways to evacuate. mamas holding tight to their little ones and papas putting their bravest faces on. facing the unknown and leaving treasures behind; wondering if locking the doors would even be necessary. families finding candles and flashlights and matches and rationing their water supply. whipping up omelets in the refrigerator before the eggs and milk spoil. and i feel guilty and lucky. i have a warm home and a cold fridge, running water and dry floors. a car parked outside my door, not floating down the street. my roof is safely intact and i have my family all in one place. benji asked for one more song and i crawled under the sheets next to him and drew a treasure map on his back, like i do sometimes, and sang him more than one more song. as his back was turned to me, his beloved bear peered at me over his little shoulder. thankfulness rushed over me.

home is wherever i'm with you.
am listening to this song on repeat. i really love it. this cover is pretty sweet too.

taking it all in.

a quick review before i get into it. i baked rye bread. i've been craving it for months and finally landed a recipe that tastes just like i remembered it. caraway seeds to the rescue. am eating avocados in salads and mashed up on bread (rye) with salted tomatoes on top. my open faced delight sits on my plate alongside a mingle of berries. it tastes like summer. for memorial day we took benj on a real train ride and not just any train ride. he was on cloud nine. we were too, to be honest. more photos to come. lately i have been buried in baby clothes; laundering, folding, hanging and sorting. glad i started this project early! we are smiling at all the teensy, tiny clothes and am pinching myself about a little man wiggling into them soon! making one small bedroom into a room suitable for two means filtering out all the unnecessaries. we finally ordered the crib (hooray) and sheets and i am staying up late researching how to paint furniture. am thinking a glossy red hue for a little table in the boys' room. benji has mastered the task of balancing a tiny ikea pencil behind his ear and jotting down scrawls which he calls measurements. okay, i'm the home depot guy and you're the customer at the check out. i can't believe i ever doubted having a toddler would not be all fun and games. it's the best. we are slowly devouring friday night lights along with talenti gelato, my new favorite frozen indulgence ever.

i can hardly believe today is the last day of may. the big kids are getting out of school and have begun to encroach on our quiet park days. summer has hit the neighborhood; friendly lawn mowers, dog walkers, home improvement projects, kids (including my own) up past bedtimes, everyone is out and about. summer is loud and boisterous and getting warmer by the hour.

in fact we had our first official family water fight last night. benji scored some squirt toys while i was stocking up on baby hangers (have you noticed that they are making alternatives to water guns? mine is a sea horse, benj has a fish and dan has an alligator squirt toy). we planned a water fight as soon as daddy got home. every time i look around, i decide three is a pretty perfect age. everything is exciting; he's big enough to do so many big boy things, tossing his two year old fears to the wayside. and still he is small enough to curl up for a nap, beg for more stories and sing songs. though old enough to have long conversations, run an afternoon of errands with me, get dressed unassisted, play by himself for long periods of time and do small favors for me. he strives to be good and do what is right. he talks about loving Jesus and trying to be like Him. no wonder we're commanded to be like little children; their hearts are of pure gold. in so many ways it's the best of both worlds. there is still some baby in his face and yet big boy feet filling out his shoes.

it's true–i know–i am pulling at our moments and greedily pocketing them. every day there is something worthy of writing down and i try to nip it into memory. but then, swiftly it is taken by another toddler sweet-ism and the second makes me forget the first. these moments are like clean clothes pinned to a line in the breezy backyard. such a breathtaking scene, even in its ordinary-ness. though we are too busy playing beneath the waving material that i can rarely breathe in the pure beauty of it. and before i know it, suddenly a strong wind comes and we create a new game of picking the loose clothing up. a new and happy memory is already in the works.

i am trying so hard to remember every single thing about us right now. i fear having a new baby will rock me so much that my memories (and mind!) will fade. of course i know in my heart that the baby will multiply our happiness and joy and love, but right now i imagine the baby's entrance will take over my mind; not unlike the rowdy pre-teens taking over the twisty slides at the park. i do not know what to expect, therefore i am soaking up our errands, our handholding, our duets.... like a starving sponge. it's a bit silly, i know. but i can't seem to help it. i am secretly (or not-so-secretly) taking it all in. it's ironic how i am simultaneously preparing benji to be the big brother, teaching him new skills i know he'll need when the baby comes, and still babying him in the quiet moments. scooping him up for longer hugs. giving in to a pile of mini marshmallows for dessert. letting him climb into the covers every morning to cuddle. oh how good it is to be a mom. i am realizing the rewards of a long hard day's work are right within my reach. i look down as we all cross the street together and feel his little hand hold tight and familiar to mine and dan's in the other; i have everything i could ever want. and growing inside me is yet another miracle, waiting to be discovered. i have so much to be thankful for.

sunday thoughts / overcoming obstacles

image via pinterest.

i love sunday afternoons when all is calm. after my church meetings, i get into my comfs and settle in. i read, i write, i bake, fold laundry and try to tackle last minute tasks before monday approaches with its weekly weight of obligations. i love how the sabbath is all about rest and restoring and renewal. in a peaceful, refined way religion feels mighty and holy and expresses the good in all. it encircles everyone.

today we discussed the concept of opposition in all things. the teacher had us write down (on a personal sheet of paper, not for sharing aloud) a difficult trial we've had to face or are currently facing in life. then she had two lines underneath it for us to write down what good had come from that hardship. at first my mind stumbled with wonder. and then seconds later it opened up and i realized, truly, so much good that has come from the hardship i'd listed. surprisingly, my writings filled up and slanted off the two lines and i was learning all the different ways that specific trial has benefitted me. having a little perspective helps me see the stumbling stones as invaluable life lessons and not as grueling obstacles that slow me down. and again, i felt thankful for the experience. among other things, i realized how experiencing that trial has strengthened my faith, helped me grow and most of all, opened my heart a lot wider. i think of a tightened flower bud loosening, allowing the rains to hit the fragile petals. gradually it opens up to full bloom, feeling the sunshine and becoming even more beautiful and fragrant than before. i know more now that the storms of life are for our good and for our growth.

during the lesson, a teenager shared with us a visual aid which her seminary teacher had showed in class. he held up a large jar of rice. he told them what they didn't see was a ping pong ball buried beneath the rice. he described the grains of rice as problems, temptations, afflictions, sins and trials that feel heavy and unbearable (we, being the ping pong ball). we often feel entitled to our depressed state, knowing the burdens we are carrying. we often give up, forgetting the choice to rise above them. she told us how her teacher shook the jar until the ping pong ball reached the top and sat upon the grains of rice. it was free and rolling about. what joy can come to us if we choose to be happy and live a good life; choosing to rise above it and reach our potential.

when i go to church i understand things more clearly, even personal silly problems that arise in life. not only do i gather strength from gospel doctrine and parables of Jesus, but i am full of thankfulness for the life i lead and the people in my life. i remember my strengths, feel remorse for my mistakes and make goals to become better. i feel newly hopeful about meeting my potential, or in the least, trying my best. one day at a time. i also have new compassion for others. i love how simple and yet so sublime a testimony of Christ can be. i rarely blog about religion, but i want you to know that it is what keeps me standing. it is the mortar between my bricks. it is so very important to me.

a list of thirty

i turned thirty in september. here are my thoughts on the matter.

+ now that i'm thirty i know better; life goes on after high school, toddlers are way more awesome than i once imagined. marriage is much better than dating. fresh minced garlic is good sauteed with almost anything. surprises are still super fun. you never get sick of balloons. or confetti. or handwritten letters. or bananas with peanut butter.

+ now that i'm thirty i ought to have a regular bedtime.

+ now that i'm thirty i thought i would've outgrown sugar cereals by now.

+ now that i'm thirty paying more for fine dining, lush stationery, crusty bread straight from a bakery shop or having an expert vacuum out the car are luxuries i'll never take for granted.

+ now that i'm thirty i am sinking into who i am and what i stand for.

+ now that i'm thirty i want to write my stories down for safekeeping. i am realizing more and more how important our personal stories are. whenever i sit down with my parents, dan's parents or his grandma bernice and listen to their tales, i want to wrap the feelings i have up in a linen box and save it for generations to come.

+ now that i'm thirty i think i should seriously start wearing glam lipstick. if not now, when? i recently picked up nars velvet matte lipstick pencil in cruella. we'll see where it takes me. (benji kept saying, wow mom, pretty red lips.)

+ now that i'm thirty i am excited about planning kid parties which is lots less stress than planning a wedding.

+ now that i'm thirty i should have a boatload of good books to recommend at book club.

+ now that i'm thirty i shouldn't be fearful to raise my hand. in any situation.

+ now that i'm thirty i count my blessings; so many people are suffering hardships like disease, death, depression and divorce. i feel unbelievably lucky.

+ now that i'm thirty i've mastered the art of cleaning out my fridge (tossing unidentifiable leftovers), figuring out how to hook-up the internet, get stains out, organize important paperwork, know where our passports are (at all times), book a flight, paint my nails without a smudge, juggle a baby, a cell phone and a pot of pasta at once among other fine things that come with being a housewife.

+ now that i'm thirty i should write letters to the teachers of my past; ones i think of often and appreciate.

+ now that i'm thirty i understand a wee bit more that we are not in control of what happens to us or our loved ones. we are only in control of how we react on the road we are traveling.

+ now that i'm thirty i think i ought to have a few recipes memorized. and some poetry. (and my mom's new phone number!) just to have on hand / in mind.

+ now that i'm thirty i wish i were better at giving directions. i'm horrible at it!

+ now that i'm thirty i need to start acting more like a woman. more thank you notes and kindly deeds. more lipstick and heels. and good haircuts. and making soup for the sick and holding doors and visiting the elderly and looking semi-presentable by noon.

+ now that i'm thirty i should start embracing the fact that this blog is more writerly than anything else. and i shouldn't be shy about mentioning it; but admittedly it's a funny topic of conversation to someone you've just met. usually i just let them discover it about me along the way. what about you? when do you tell someone you have a blog? it's a little like unveiling a hidden tattoo. 

+ now that i'm thirty i should have a list of real favorites. nine year olds are pretty solid in their favorites. we'll see if i can patch an updated list together.

+ now that i'm thirty i should stop wavering about getting into facebook. most people tell me it's not worth it. what do you think? do you use it; personally or for business? i guess i like to think i'm using my energy elsewhere. (maybe when i'm thirsty for new business, i'll go that route.)

+ now that i'm thirty i am super glad i never got any random piercings.

+ now that i'm thirty i ought to acquire a legit coffee table. with glossy coffee table books.

+ now that i'm thirty i've embraced the concept of the purse. whole-heartedly.

+ now that i'm thirty i am cool with being short. still not so cool with my cankles.

+ now that i'm thirty i wish i had been a better friend. i was a drama queen when i was on the playground.

+ now that i'm thirty i am grateful with my travelogue thus far and can't wait for the time to come to introduce my kids to the world with dan by my side.

+ now that i'm thirty i've stopped looking for facial cleansers; cetaphil pretty much does the job.

+ now that i'm thirty i ought to quit thinking i was just in high school. it was indeed awhile ago; i just can't believe i pass as a grown up now.

+ now that i'm thirty i'm so glad i took creative writing in middle school, cub chorus in elementary school, public speaking in high school and photoshop in college. i use what i learned in those classes every single day.

+ now that i'm thirty i wonder what the next thirty years have in store.

kitchen duty / my lightbulb moment

go green / gorgeous kitchen via revelment

lots of time spent in the kitchen yesterday. i told dan the other day that i love cleaning my kitchen way more than i ever have. this is shocking. why would i have grown to like the daily grind of kitchen duty, i wonder. have i finally matured and owned up to the fact that doing dishes is a daily (if not, three or four times daily, more if you make your family a healthy meal!) required task? (so why moan and groan about it?) or could it be because i don't have a tv anywhere near the kitchen, so i'm not pulled in the direction to just sit and veg out to ellen? or maybe because it's a house and not an apartment, so i feel some sort of housewifery ownership over it? not sure; but i'm glad.

i'm glad i've finally succumbed to the feeling of satisfaction that comes with sucking up crumbs underfoot with my nozzle vacuum hose attachment. you have no idea how happy i was to change my vacuum bag after the holidays. (it was stuffed to the gills, like santa's pack on christmas eve.) all those pine needles; all those party crumbs; all that clean-up. i felt some sort of strange accomplishment which, i assume, only a woman can understand. guys just get the job done and move on. ladies like me revel in knowing that this task completed is a giant black mark slicing through words on a carefully written to-do list.

and isn't it funny how madly you clean a house before guests arrive and five minutes later it's a complete wreck!? (dan always jokes with me, reminding me we haven't invited the queen to our house.) chocolate cake crumbs, ice cream melted on the tablecloth, dirty dishes piled high. but laughter is abounding and kids are playing and you have this feeling of ahhh. that was fun. we should do it again. making the mess (and eventually cleaning it up) was worth it. and yet, here i am again, cleaning my kitchen. and there i will be, tomorrow, doing it again. i guess i've finally gotten over thinking i wish it would just stay clean. because it won't. because we are living here. and living here means making messes. and if it were always, always clean, then that would mean there ain't a lot of living going on which would make me super sad. so, i'm over it. and i'm counting my blessings. i have a kitchen to clean. and people–better yet, a family–who help me dirty it up and even a little one who leans over (tip-toed on his stool) to wash his own dishes. we have hot water and bubbly soap and a dishwasher and no mice or cockroaches (add the no mice or cockroaches part to any statement and you'll realize how lucky you feel)! it's a simple thing, but a happy thing. and i'm learning to appreciate the cycle; super clean. tidy. unclean. messy. crazy dirty. sleeves up. apron on. mopping and wiping and scrubbing and sorting. shiny plates out, sloppy plates in. a heap of dirty dish towels, the vacuum unplugged and a sack of garbage tied into a neat knot is my personal job well done.

other random tidbits // do you have an old-fashioned egg beater? i highly recommend having one. they make scrambled eggs a cinch. not that whisking yolks is all that hard; but something about the wheel and beater mechanics makes it all the better. my kid loves it. in fact i let him whir water and cinnamon and salt together all morning long. have i mentioned he loves creating concoctions. he even said, mom you go clean and i'll keep baking. monday should be declared our cleaning day. but usually when i declare something, it doesn't ever end up happening like it should. so i quit that habit long ago. i even busted out the blind cleaner gadget. do you have one of these? i picked ours up at home depot awhile back and am finally getting around to actually using it. dusting blinds is right up there with watching paint dry, but this little gadget does help. a wee bit. so there are my two tiny recommendations; an egg beater and fuzzy wuzzy blind cleaner. so, there's that. oh one more. yoga pants from costco. i am a believer.

p.s. i just discovered tinkerlab, thanks to pinterest, and am all motivated to get back to (intentionally) providing homegrown preschool projects for benj. we're off to purchase some foam sheets and sparkly pom poms for our art supply bin. what is more fun than being three and getting to egg-beat cinnamoney salt water and glue sparkly pom poms onto construction paper?! do you have any kiddo activities and/or awesome kitchen gadgets i should know about?

lets regroup / the woo & woe of blogging

photos by me // at the MOMA on our last trip to new york city.



as of late, admittedly, the blog page has not been wooing me in its usual sugary sensationally tempting way. in the good old days i felt like a bee headed to its hive; with tales dripping of tasty honey. but. i am in a slump. slumpier than slump. as it is lasting longer than a slump should. i'm sorry to say i have been going through the motions, trying to keep up here. waiting for the romance of blogging to return. surely it will. hopefully it will; it's one of the only things i know how to do these days. and with that, i've sensed an unwelcome resentful chirping in my ear, as i scroll through glamorous / clever / riveting / crafty / homey / lovely post upon post in my google reader. so many out there photographing, documenting, creating, doing, writing and making. goal-oriented and intentional blogging; the best of its kind. while i sit here flapping my wings with all my might and never actually taking off. my blog feels misplaced suddenly, due to my uneasiness.  likely it's only in my mind, i mean, who is really to say who belongs and who doesn't belong. still, there is a distinct doggy paddling happening here and i need to regroup and figure out what i want out of all this. i am somewhat chuckling inside because i know i have written seminars on why blogging is rad, which can be found in my archives. i should be my own best cheerleader on the subject. but i've been pondering this for months now and i haven't given myself the go ahead to find any real clarity. why do i blog. why should i blog. what is my message. what are my intentions with publishing my words for all to read. who is this for. where is it going. if anywhere. am i okay with a simple diary online or am i saying something more. what is the point of yet one more blog for people to scroll through. am i lending out anything with real genuine substance. i recently read something akin to: those who get what they want out of life have usually taken the time to figure out (precisely) what they want in life. why have i let the routine of it all cloud the vision of what i truly want.

one of my favorite things about going to an art gallery, aside from viewing masterpieces close enough to study thick brush strokes, is watching how people react. how people tango back and forth slowly from frame to frame, or wait and tilt their heads awhile or sit down on a bench and write or rush through to the popular pieces or whisper in corners, letting the artwork set the mood. i like watching all of us, so varied, enjoying the same art in our own very personal ways. for years now, blogging has been my platform to put my words, my heart, out there. for anyone to come take a peek; to stay as long as they please or to skip around like rain on a rooftop. now, more than ever, i see how valuable our time is (yours and mine) and i long to say something that matters; to you. to me.

i'll be back after i regroup.

p.s. i promise this isn't a pity party. thank you for reading my blog; so many of you have stuck with me for years and i love that. i am flattered and happy some of you have reached out. this year i've been able to interact with readers on a very awesome level; letters, emails and even meetings. i like to know who you are and what you're all about too. (somedays even i get sick of the one-sided conversation that a blog tends to be.) i've come to realize that i rather gain a friendship with a few of you than hoard the readership of the masses. i freed myself of wanting to be the biggest baddest best blogger out there a long time ago. letting go of the popularity contest is nice. a lot less pressure. still, there is something in me that is still trying to keep up. i hope to rid myself of those feelings to compare and just be me. and let it all hang out. but this takes courage. and intention. and guts. and time. i need to find out why blogging should continue to be apart of my life. what am i giving and what is it giving. and why is it worth the effort and time it takes. this is hopefully just the beginning of a year full of good changes and personal evolution. wishing you a happy new year and some quiet time to figure out exactly what you'll make of it. xo.

p.p.s. this post took me a little over an hour to write (and edit). but it was therapeutic and well worth it. i hope, if you're still reading, it will help you in some small way too.

weekending, lightbulb moments, motherhood and pie night

my favorite sight; for so many reasons. the boys in aprons whip up their first pie crust. i helped with the slicing. dan trusts all things ree and turned to our used and abused cookbook for pioneer woman's flat apple pie. it was messy and absolutely delicious, as all her food turns out to be. there was no shortage of butter and sugary sauciness. which made for a fantastic no-fail experience.

the weekend / in review

friday we went out on the town. all three of us. the snow was falling in fat flakes and the sun set early. we went to an art gallery + letterpress studio opening. i was all a-bubbling like holiday tea when we stepped inside. the typical art crowd is just as i remembered. it felt like i was introducing dan to the world of artsy letterpress lovers, not like i knew any of them personally, but the introduction to the whole event of it. like visiting the blogs i love, but in real life.

to be honest, i felt a little out of place. and in my heart i felt envious; i've guiltily given most creative projects a backseat (or thrown in the trunk!) in my life right now. i wish i could carve out more time for things like this, i thought to myself. more time for cultivating my skills for awesome passions i wish i had time for. if i didn't blog so much, maybe i could be better at fill-in-the-blank. or, maybe if i could cut out my once-in-awhile napping ritual i could read more fine literature or possibly, dig into the new yorker or something equally as stimulating / informative. heavens, i am thirty now, i should be reading stuff like that. and i should definitely not be so involved with wondering what ryan seacrest will be producing next.

soon i began to look around–pushing through those feelings–and saw dan with benji in his arms, mingling with the artists and i realized something. my own toddler is my creative project at the moment. he's the main show. and that is more than okay with me. it was a happy mini lightbulb moment. one more moment of realizing how motherhood is something i'm unbelievably grateful for and very proud of. i love that mother is now a title i hold. it is worth giving other things up for. and then i felt fine about everything. i let it go and talked to the artists about their work. and rather than feeling sad that i don't know where i'd stick in letterpressing in my life, i felt happy that these lively ladies are opening their own studio and rockin' it; local style. i am grateful for that moment of letting my own selfish feelings go. to be happy for them and happy right where i am too. u be u, i'll be me. they had their machines going so dan (and benji!) got to see the magic of handcranking out artwork, up close. the fire is still burning to create things with my own hands. there is always a creative storm brewing in my mind of new projects to start, but that shouldn't overwhelm me (as it often does), it should inspire me. it should show me that i'm still alive and breathing. a time and season for everything. for me, it's the season of being mom.

side note // something my dear idaho friend, julie, once told me has been sticking to me like glue lately. i think of it often and am so happy she answered me so honestly. over the phone, i casually inquired about what amazing new sewing project she was working on. (the first time i met her she was sewing a giant hoop skirt–and other treasures to outfit her kiddos–to wear at an upcoming mountain man rendezvous!) she recently had her third baby and is gracefully figuring out how to manage life as a mom of three. julie said so nonchalantly and very matter-of-fact, i've decided that my kids are my hobby. i am putting them first. that one phrase has come into my mind so often. it reminds me, as a mother, to remember to make motherhood fun; to make it more than an obligatory responsibility. to make a choice to make the most of it. to enjoy each day as they are only little once. to make motherhood matter. thank you, julie.

since benji was already out past his bedtime, we went out for cocoa and shared a little delicacy called a fudge cup at this favorite place i love called gourmandies. it was packed and i felt like we were suddenly in new york city. everyone was dressed up and chatting in giant groups. i guess i'm such a homebody i've forgotten that it's sometimes totally fun to get out once in awhile and rub shoulders with the leather jacket (with sequins underneath) crowd. (side note // i seem to always be documenting the cakes, pies and general sweets we consume, am consuming, have consumed. please take no effort in doing the math for me. i read recently in a magazine that your favorite skinny jeans will tell you when you've gained weight. toss that scale! which is funny to me because most skinny jeans are mostly made up of luscious spandex, meaning stretch factor. which is why we love them. now will the new yorker tell you that? til then i'll wait for my tj maxx specials to speak up.)

saturday i joined in on a serious craft fest with the ladies at my church. we watched a buttermint demonstration, made a citrus salt scrub (aaamazing and easy!) and i wrapped a yellow yarn wreath (it's cute, but i don't think i'll ever do that again, unless i have fun people to chat with!). we ate chicken noodle soup. the boys had boy day with haircuts and a dinosaur museum and leaves to rake. we crossed everything off our to do list. i got to have a long chit chat with my brother while rounding the corners of my christmas cards (another task only fun if you have something / someone to distract you). thanks pete! and then tidied the house up. and smiled to have a house to tidy up and whipped some fresh cream for pie night.

sunday we baked pie and ate cheerios. we got dolled up and went to church and, in sunday school, discussed Jesus Christ and what it means to be a true disciple of His. i got to sit in on a class full of bright teenagers who had good answers about being an example while not being pushy. we talked about loving everyone and accepting others as they are while still holding true to our own values. i felt the spirit and felt thankful for the gospel. i am grateful to know what i believe in and know i can lean on it when i am weak. five o'clock, the family showed up; in coats and wet shoes and beaming faces. the warmth was immediate. we ate pie. the kids watched winnie the pooh while we ate more pie. there was coconut cream, chocolate decadence, pumpkin, pioneer woman's flat apple and gingerale party punch. everyone brought homebaked pies. and that wasn't even a requirement! i was so impressed and full to the gills.

there was a coloring table with thanksgiving printable pages and extra chairs brought in. dan got out the rickety old bench for the end of the table. it reminded me of thanksgivings everywhere wherein people round up random assorted seating to seat their hungry, happy visitors. there was a whole bunch of family in our little house. we felt so happy. my made-up game seemed like a success. the children were giddy and chit-chattering. i found the little girls 8 and 10, roaming my office glancing at photos. one asked, so what exactly do you do in here?! if only i had a clear cut answer for her!

the pies were perfect; only tasty, flaky crumbs left. which i nibbled on and vacuumed up simultaneously twenty minutes after the last guests left (and i'm not even a pie person). it's fun when you get to call yourself a hostess and your family members guests. living away from family for awhile, i so appreciate getting to see them more often! what better party is there than a roomful of relatives?! it is my favorite kind of comfort zone.

introspection no. 04

not that i write for applause, but feedback is nice. and your feedback yesterday was brilliant. thank you. i have to be honest with you. even though i've been at this whole pouring out my soul onto the internet for a long time now, i always play this little mind game when i write a personal, reflective post like yesterday's. the words come tumbling out of me and, once it's all out there, i tell myself not to post it. i give myself the same lecture about not divulging too much personal stuff, to stop boring my readers. (i tell myself, tutorials are where it's at! buck up and give the reader something they can make / bake / create.) i feel sheepish and wonder if anyone will get what i'm writing about. but then the adrenaline hits and i just go ahead and schedule it to post (while i'm sleeping). and i force myself to stop thinking about it and get over myself. (admittedly, in my head, i use the same voice carrie fisher used in when harry met sally when she meets her future husband on a double date and she goes, get oooover yourself! it's the best. that duo is almost as good as harry and sally. agreed?!)

with time, i've come to know that the posts that i'm most scared of are, in fact, the words that resound most with readers; or so it seems. thank you for coming out of your shells and commenting such thoughtful things. thank you for affirming that what i say meant something to you. it is so encouraging to me. now, i urge you. the scary stuff is the good stuff. keep writing the scary stuff. apparently, that's where it's at. what are your thoughts?! do you get personal on your blog? (do you give yourself mini lectures?! no? just me?)

claire commented with a compliment i will treasure; maybe because it is how i genuinely hope to be. she said, You write what you know you should write. And that's why i keep coming back: you are real. 

archives // more wordy posts i almost didn't publish.
+ leaves in a library book...
+ in this moment
+ motherhood. am still learning.
+ blogging & jealousy
+ feeling a brand new feeling
+ when life gives you snow, make cocoa
+ my resolutions in a nutshell
+ unnamed
+ write now

p.s. need another cute throw pillow!? tune in today to see another happy etsy find.

who i was + who i am / a study in self portraits

There is nothing like returning to a place that remains unchanged 
to find the ways in which you yourself have altered. - Nelson Mandela

through all this hubbub of getting back into routine of living our new life here, i haven't sat still long enough to process the major life changes that have been going on. i've been trotting along and suddenly it hit me while burning cds the other night. or should i say morning (i do my best work in the wee hours). i've been dusting out iphoto and clearing some space on the hard drive. i couldn't help but smile upon discovering these two similar self portraits; four years apart. it took these two photos to make me stop and think for awhile. about who i was and who i have become in this short span of time. it's funny to think, little by little, i am turning into the future me. i like when life does that to you; wraps you up from a long race to remind yourself about who you once were and who you are now.

same place. same girl.
same awesome office building in salt lake city.
same favorite brownies from the judge cafe.
different complexion (california vs. idaho sunshine).
same style of peter pan collar blouses.
different cameras (both loved and abused).
same handy camera strap.
same size (giant) bag. one size fits all (my stuff).
same finicky hair. was brunette, now back to blonde.
(looking frazzled from those days of taking the bus.)
same me who likes it pulled away from my face for work.
same funny hopeless eyebrows.
same crooked smile.
different fingernails. more excited to paint them now.
seemingly a bit more comfortable in my own skin now.
(even though i can no longer squeeze into that yellow H&M blouse.
am still keeping it however. same sentimental me.)
and i still love (and wear) that green cardigan.
best christmas gift from husband.
same loving amazing husband.
who knew we had a whole adventure lying ahead of us?

as i look at these photos; i see the ocean of experience the young me is about to embark on.

the girl in the mirror wonders about careers, location, and settling in and babies and raising a family and churning out a homemade business and where it will all lead. she has lots of plans, little direction. she is suddenly taking lots of pictures and wonders about the future. she wants the answers now. she is not unlike the present-day me who would like to see life in buffet form; all the options out in the open. she was a working girl; staying up late and blogging up a storm (i had so much to learn!). not much has changed in that arena. she had no idea she was about to become a country mouse for three years. she was still missing california. she did not know how awesome idaho could be, the lifelong friends she would meet or the new tiny spud she'd hold every day in that little apartment. she didn't know what idaho winds were like or how many snapshots she'd take of the whipped cream clouds. she didn't know about roadtrips with sunglasses on and baby in tow.

she was fearful of change yet impatient about real life hurrying up and getting started. she listened to jimmy chunga every morning on the radio. not necessarily because she liked him. she took the bus every day and applied mascara when it stopped at the university. she had just learned the recipe for dan's soon-to-be favorite chocolate chip hobbit cake. (she will be making it for the rest of his life.) she tried to do too much. and she didn't even know about pinning yet. or twitter or facebook. myspace never tempted her. she was easily excitable, eager to please, and happily in charge of planning the fiestas every month at work.

she wore scarves and an ipod and a giant bag everywhere. she did not worry about naptimes or feedings, diaper bags or nursing bras, sleep-training or potty-training. she was confident; but naive to all that was right around the corner. in a few month's time, she would have a stack of books on her nightstand. she was about to find out what pregnancy feels like. she would learn the happiest news on christmas eve and never feel the same again. feeling those first kicks of motherhood is a new sensation. i wish i could tell her how much joy that baby boy brings. but she will see. those are things you cannot begin to explain. some things must be felt. and much later, the girl in the mirror would know the feeling of losing a pregnancy. gaining new empathy for loss and sadness. she would know what it means to feel real sad and broken. i wish i could tell her how to prepare for it. but that too was a learning curve only to be fully understood by experience. she would meet friends who made her stronger. she learned new love and happiness in the now. she would see a husband graduate, pass the bar (yay!), become a real lawyer and a father all in a year's time. wow. writing that now opens my eyes to his own learning curve. there is such beauty in remembering how God has a plan (far better than one we could devise on our own); that His path steers us right where we ought to be.

same girl. same city.
same me. new me.
new lessons in my heart.
same wonderings of what is to come.

life is good / oh how good it is to remember.
remember what you've been through.
remember what makes you strong.
remember where you've been and who you are.
remember where you are going.
remember / you. can. do. this.

a new show n' tell series. / oh how i love september.

launching a new series for the new season...

the first day of september is loaded with potential. it always is. possibility is perched in those trees, she's waiting to tumble down with the leaves. the beginning of a new season, a birthday just twenty-four days away, the start of projects and crisp notebooks to fill, ladling steamy soup into big bowls with crusty bread for dipping, cozy sweaters back in rotation; september sets the mood up for me. and this one shall be no different. am praying hard for productivity and inspiration. there are still lots of unknowns ahead (am learning to accept unknowns as they are a way of life). but i do know one thing: there will be painting! we'll be house hopping a bit this month, so blogging we'll be very sporadic (i hope you'll be patient!). still, i've got a couple things on the horizon.

the big one // the house hunt is finally over. hip hip hooray! it's true, we are in the process of buying our first home. we are relieved and excited. indeed it has been a process, emphasis added. of course, i'm learning, most worthwhile things in life come with a few hoops to jump through. our home is cozy and suitable and just feels right as so many of you told me it would. dan's sweet grandma bernice would pat me on the hand (seeing how frustrated i was) and tell me that i would know when we found the right house. i trusted her, but doubted my instincts would kick in. she was right. someone told me when you find the right house (or husband!), you love it so much you don't mind compromising on its minor flaws. they become endearing. isn't that so true?! this home was built in the 1940s; and what it lacks in closet space it makes up for in charm! we feel so blessed. God always knows and always carves out a path.

a new blog series // i continue to look for fresh content to blog about and am especially thrilled when i can introduce an etsy shop, designer, or artisan to (you!) my readers. being a small business owner myself, i know how much word of mouth can boost sales! this upcoming new series, HOME IS WHERE THE ART IS, will be dedicated to unique and awesome artwork (including but not limited to the kind you frame and hang on the walls) which will be going up in our new home. the posts will be scheduled here and there while we're on-the-move. i've handpicked a few fabulous sponsors (from all over the globe) whom i'll be featuring right here on martawrites, and, obviously, in our home! which means these talented folks create pieces that i really, truly love. we are big believers in the william morris quote, have nothing in your house that you do not know to be useful, or believe to be beautiful. 

cheers to september and all the good we shall scoop out of it, jack-o-lantern style. p.s. that darling floral print (pictured) is actually the wallpaper in my mother-in-law's laundry room!!

interested in having your work featured in our home? please email me directly.

dad's vintage postage stamps and other thoughts.

thank you for the kind comments and the warm welcome back! i am glad to be home despite the fact that it's still snowing here. you heard me, it's still snowing here. we had a happy airport reunion with dan and are a trio once again. it's good to come home to someone you love. there is nothing better. the house was clean and there was a glorious pile of mail waiting for me.

i was particularly excited about opening my dad's invitations and recent booklet. (my main gig is designing the books for his business as a historian. this year heritage associates turns twenty-five and he's hosting a bit of a celebration!) my dad has been a lover of vintage postage stamps even before it was the hip thing to do. i love the triangle postage stamps and the hand stamped postmark by the mailman. my dad instilled in me a love for details (and the post office)! his handwriting was my first favorite.

in other news.
am setting out to fix up this place, my life, my cupboards. after our jaunt to arizona i have a refreshed outlook on my life; the good, bad and the ugly. i have new ideas to explore and stacks of stuff to go through (which i hastily left when heading for spring break). stuff to design, lists to write. (i love this printable goal list by jana.) one plan is to tackle the house. we went out to pick up some cleaning supplies and microfiber cloths. (i love when you've been apart for so long that running errands together feels like the dating game all over again.) am doing some spring cleaning every saturday until it's warm enough to go out and play. i even laundered my down coat with tennis balls. it worked wonderfully. the tennis balls help keep the feathers proportionately puffed.

am also excited about implementing a little more structure in my days at home with benji. why haven't i thought of this before?! at gabi's house they had a spring break calendar and the kids loved looking on it to see what was in store. this does not seem like a revolutionary idea, but it ignited a good idea for b and me. so i'm going to (officially) plan a little activity every day with him. yesterday we had singing time and made shoebox guitars with rubberbands. maybe it's just me, but making a calendar for something makes it more fun. when i was young, my mom was queen of naming our activities and outings so they seemed more like awesome field trips rather than just something to do on a dreary afternoon. am not sure if benji will notice, but i think it will keep me motivated about intentional mothering.

am also looking forward to general conference this saturday and sunday. as i've grown up, i have come to realize what an amazing experience it is to listen to a prophet's voice and gain insights from the counsel given. at church last sunday the teacher taught us about carefully listening to the Spirit and then moving towards the Lord, never giving up on doing what's right. i am learning that it's not just about praying for things and hoping for answers, it is more about attempting to solve my own problems with the tools God has already given me and praying for His guidance along the way. our lives will never be free of challenges. dealing with trials is what this life is about. i am realizing that the problem we currently face does not have to be our identity. the way we deal with our dark days is supremely more important in the long run. with God anything is possible.

tomorrow i have two great product reviews. stay tuned and stay awesome.

wishing you a wonderful and productive week.

ALT recap > glad my computer is permanently plugged into the wall and other personal insights

i know my current postage rate is way above average, i simply want to get it all out while it's still fresh in my mind. making up for lost time. i promised a detailed recap, i plan to deliver. here are some things i came to realize after the conference was all said and done.



tidbits learned.

+ i feel abundantly blessed for my support team, aka my family. dan loves being so involved with our son and is always on when i'm working. my parents are extreme cheerleaders, in every aspect. they are always applauding their children, i realize how lucky i am.

+ am feeling equally lucky to have consistent graphic design business, awesome clients and rad people who comment and validate my every thought. glad people want to read what i write. blogging is fulfilling in making real connections. the network and joy of blogging is very valuable to me.

+ i am okay being the small fish in the big pond. however i am so happy we all get to swim in the same waters. creative exchange is where it's at.

+ i loved seeing how kind and friendly and genuine all the big bloggers are. (i am so over referring to popular bloggers as big bloggers. we are all important. we shouldn't be valued by the number of subscribers, comments or followers we get.) i hung out with Ez of creature comforts and didn't even realize it until late in the game. i'm like, oh you are the gal who created Gifted magazine!?! wow. silly me. oodles of talent all around. soak in the creativity.

+ blogging is not a competition. stop comparing / forget stats and subscriptions. concentrate on content. make it fresh and interesting and unlike any others. there are plenty of beautifully designed blogs with no substance; tons of bloggers with nothing new to bring to the table. there is no sense in gauging someone's character solely on what their website looks like. (i am a graphic designer and take some risk in saying that.)

+ i am not the only one who overpacks my suitcase or worries about keeping up with my google reader and wonders if i'll ever get to browse all those pretty blog posts.

+ i am realizing that all those pretty blog posts are not real life. if i can't get to them, life will go on. i really don't need to know everything about everything. even if i wish i could.

+ i know twitter is amazing and facebook can open a lot of doors. (especially for those who want a booming business!! keep the conversation going, breed a new audience, plug products, etc.) social media is an incredible tool for entrepreneurs. but it's not for me; which is a sigh of relief. i am running a buzzing small business from home and am happy with the routine i've got going at the moment. i need to put first things first and second things second. my family is so precious to me; i don't want to blow away the moments of motherhood like dandelion seeds. (which, for me, means i'm so glad i don't have a traveling computer, nor internet on my phone. addicts like me need boundaries.) am giving myself permission not to do what everyone else is doing, no matter how tempting it is. don't quote me or anything. i may start twittering in ten years or so, with the same suspicious cautiousness of wearing skinny jeans. (long live jeggings. i totally get it now!)

+ i don't need to keep up with anyone or anything. i set my own pace. hoorah.

+ i can create the balance that i need. i attended all the panels with balance in their titles. i came away realizing that i am master of my own to-do lists. i can seize the art of scheduling. i can prioritize and tackle. i can let the rest fall away. no regrets. (no day but today. a little rent, the musical advice.)

+ be confident and smart and cheerful and happy. value what you do. life is too short.

+ speaking on a panel wasn't as scary as i thought it would be. especially when nice people come to meet you at the end.

+ you cannot do it all, be it all, have it all all at once. pick and choose what you want to focus on.

+ compliment others without hesitation / learn to take compliments too.

+ in a creative industry like this, business cards matter. i was blown away at all the efforts that went into the hundreds of calling cards handed out. i plan to step it up next time.

+ value your time. don't spread yourself too thin. make time for what you're passionate about. put your real effort into what you truly care about.

+ never copycat, only celebrate. use your own creative intuition.

stay tuned: take a look into my purse, one last recap post, another weekend roadtrip planned and a husband's birthday to celebrate. oh, and a pie to bake. suggestions welcome.

my resolutions in a nutshell w/ a burst of ALT enthusiasm.

confession.

i haven't written down my resolutions yet. i know. it's so unlike me. it's almost like i'm afraid of them. almost like after last year with the ups and downs; anticipation, excitement, disappointment, sadness, and frustrations of a failed pregnancy and other sudden-alities (yes, i made that word up. it means when reality hits you in the face and you're like, wait, this wasn't going to be my life, but there it is, in black and white). this year, among a long list of goals, i mostly want to learn how to roll with the punches. can i sign up for that class? is there a punch card to learn how to roll with what life throws at you? i want to learn how to be the best me without having a checklist of what i'd like to learn, accomplish, do, be, manage, micro-manage and so forth this year. i wish for more solid footing, no matter how rocky the trail. i want to learn to feel the emotions of something without being swept under the rug with them nor caught up in their waves.

i want to be strong in faith / strong in heart. i learned a valuable lesson this past year, i don't have to be the rock, i just need to have a rock to cling to. thank goodness for God and His all-knowing power. i have to tie my faith to something bigger than myself. i am not always so steady. however, He is. i often wonder (and wish i knew) what is to come and what is in store, around every corner. i have to let Him lead me into the life He has planned and then follow the whisperings to do what is right, to do what i know i should, to live under the influence and inspiration of God and His light.

there is a quote from aristotle, the more you know, the more you know you don't know. that's how i've been feeling. as if i finally understand every nook and cranny of my wooden box, every knot and nail. like i'm the big man on campus–in my box, that is–until one day, bored of my boards, i start looking and seeing my box for what it is; made of slats of wood. and suddenly, without warning, i see the truth. i see the inbetween space, the seemingly insignificant space i'd ignored all this time. there is sunlight coming through those slats! glorious and warm. a whole world out there, just waiting to be understood. suddenly my thorough knowledge of my box is no longer enough.

i want to be kind and sincere. i want to remember what matters. last year i realized in a very real way, i'm not really in control here. i mean, i am. in a lot of important ways, i am. (i am very in control of my attitude, if my bed gets made, if i eat healthy, if i wipe up spills, if i make good choices, if i am on the ball and work hard and live up to my promises and adhere to my deadlines and make my boys happy, etc. etc.) however i am not in control of the problems that may come, the unknowns that will land in my lap, the stuck sensations of hopelessness, the overwhelming feelings, nor the sudden attacks of i'm-not-good-enoughs or i-feel-like-being-lazy-forever, the small challenges that dribble in. but i am lucky to have power to channel my energy, change my course, rethink my plans and re-route my attitude. i want to embrace what i do have control of and be grateful for it.

so i am going to keep trying. i am going to keep my yoga mat in my car for weeknight sessions, i am going to keep talking myself into zumba class, i will do a better job of talking myself out of watching lame television (anyone else here read Kardashian Konfidential over christmas? no? just me?), i will continue to create, i will continue to snuggle my boys a lot, find new ways to be stylish with old stuff, rack up minutes with my mom and dad, read a book or two, try new recipes with reckless abandon, find joy in what i do, and be disciplined in life and confident from the inside out. and manage to eat breakfasts that don't consist of cookies (starting today). am hoping to focus in on what's real, what matters and what i believe in. i hope to build more meaningful exchanges with those i care about and do something from scratch every single day, whether it is baking bread, writing a letter, molding play-doh, or jotting something genuine on this blog.

two thousand eleven, let the games begin.
thanks for reading. as always, i so appreciate you.

p.s. my sister was right. the i just cut my bangs look goes away after a week. 

[the countdown to ALT is on. i'm getting packed up and heading out very soon! i love that it's taking place in my hometown, my favorite town. i also love that i'll have a personal stylist / babysitter / amazing blogger mom to stay with (whom i can come home to and discuss all the thrilling details with)! it's so nice having a mom who gets blogging, talking about blogging with people who don't see its value can be frustrating. which is why this conference is going to be so rad. it's going to be a crazy phenomenon to meet so many bloggers who i feel like i know but don't actually know. some of them, i may not even recognize until i discover their www. i am going to be so starstruck (and hopefully not too goofy). after reading every one's recaps from last year, i realized how much i wanted to be apart of it; so i'll attempt to pay it forward. i plan to give a full report when i return next week. no laptop, iphone, or twitter account for me (i hope they don't kick me out). i'll be the one playing it old school, with a notebook and pen.

i've been thinking long and hard about our upcoming panel, blogging personal stories. (we speak on thursday at two o'clock, i'd love to meet you!) i indeed feel passionate about it; stories are the threads that can connect us, make us better people. stories are what makes us laugh and makes us cry; stories are what bring us together (no matter how different we are)! i'll be speaking with karey and nie nie who are incredible women and currrently, super fun email penpals. nie nie is a household name around here (a rockstar in the realm of blogging true life stories), it will be a smashing thing to meet her. i have a feeling i'll be all huggy and teary-eyed, like i'm this long lost friend (which technically i'm not, however much i feel for her). i wonder if she gets that a lot. stephanie is definitely a hero of mine and i will never tire of hearing her incredible story. you must set aside time to listen to this recent interview. (like right now while you're browsing blogs.) the interviewer, ruth todd asks such detailed questions. i listened to it while i was scanning documents and later, had a free moment to browse my google reader. after listening to their story, the blogs full of fancy things looked so much less enticing. i didn't feel overwhelmed with jealousy or the gimmie gimmies. i felt grateful for what i have. because that is how personal stories can make you feel. they are a gifts of words, ready for us to absorb them. lots more to come. xo.]

good night christmas.

i hope it was merry. i hope it was magic. i hope it was one for the scrapbooks.

we played all day long. after the gifts were unveiled, we leisurely sat and watched our boy race his cars. i sprayed new perfume and poked sparkly earrings into my ears. in traditional christmas fashion, dan immediately put on the new shirt i got him. which always makes me glad. the sun shone and we went sledding in an empty park with snowy hills until lunchtime. it was pretty perfect. except for the jump that threw me off the sled and onto the ice. moaning and then laughter.

right now, right here, my boys are asleep. the twinkle lights are steadily glowing and everything is quiet. the wrapping is put away and the presents are still out on display; ready to play another day.

i am tucking myself in with a lot on my mind. we read books with cups of wassail and watched a disney, an austen and an alcott tonight. (i secretly wish jo march ended up with laurie. but still, i am charmed with the story as always. and it reminds me how much i want to write something decent.)

i have big plans up my sleeve–as usual–am wondering if they will show themselves this year. i am starting it off with a little re-invent with the blog. (did you see the new header?) baby steps. i hope to figure out how to balance everything i dream to do with everything i must get done. i want to make the most of the moments. i can't stop thinking about the fact that i will turn thirty in 2011. that, in itself, gives me pause. for tonight, i am off to cuddle up and gather up our mugs and leave the dishes in the sink.

merry christmas.

p.s. i seriously love that blogging can be a vehicle for whatever you wish.
thanks for coming along for the ride.

leaves in a library book and other quiet thoughts

we worked together collecting leaves the other afternoon. benji works energetically at whatever task is at hand. i now see what is meant when the scriptures urge us to become like a little child; full hearted and fully present. complete and true. loving and wholly trusting. forgiving and forgetting. cheerful and ever optimistic. good to the core. i am striving to become more childlike. having one as my sidekick helps me see life's important details more clearly.

we went swimming indoors yesterday morning. a spontaneous decision i made while tossing the towels in my giant swim bag. we hurried and left the house before i could remember to bring along a to do list. it was the perfect activity. we had no schedule, no time commitments, nothing pulling at my mind. we splashed in the water and kicked our legs and had the whole pool to ourselves.

i taught him the word again as he kept wanting to leap to me from the steps. again, again, he'd say. i was my favorite self and my heart felt full and lucky. he was happy as a clam and didn't seem to mind when swimming was over. no tantrum today, hooray. it wasn't so tough to wrestle him out of his swim trunks and into dry clothes. i asked myself, why don't we do this all the time? i then promised myself we'd do it more. make it a routine, a special outing for b and me. somedays i feel sad that i am not carrying his little sibling at the moment. it hits me that my second pregnancy ended too soon and i start feeling blue. but then i try to brush myself off and tell myself that the reasons will unveil themselves in due time. i then attempt to give my boy all of me. that is what i have at the moment. that is what i can do for him. i can give him my whole heart and let the worrying subside. i can wrap him up in my mothering ways and seek the brighter side of life. after swimming we treated ourselves to a wild berry smoothie from mcdonald's. we even took one to dan at work.

dan was happy and gave us kisses. my boy in the backseat sipped on the straw with puckered dimpled cheeks. i wished i had my camera with me. he looked cute in his striped shirt sipping strawberry smoothie from a straw. i thought it would make a sweet page for an alphabet book.

then there was sad news mentioned about a friend of dan's who has been battling cancer while living life to the fullest degree this past year. he passed away. the familiar pang of sadness settled into my heart. i thought of his loving wife who must learn (even moreso) about strength, faith and courage. i thought of their kids who will now cling to memories. i cried my way home. i thought of lauren, a little girl in our neighborhood who has been suffering from cancer. she, too, recently passed away, living shortly after her eleventh birthday. i wondered if somehow their families can feel the caring thoughts from acquaintances from afar. i hoped so. i hope they can somehow find love and peace and comfort in the loneliness of their sorrows. i pray they can feel God's love in a real way.

my soul is quiet for them today. i believe in families that last forever. i believe in life after death and i know death is not the end of our soul's existence. times like these i cling to that knowledge and take refuge in it like a cave in a windstorm.

i am amazed at the journey of life and the genuine undying love we can offer each other; the friendships we can build and the memories that can grow from the little moments we share. the meaningful carvings we can whittle into each other's hearts. i marvel at the way death can breathe newness into the lives of those living; to rejoice at what we have been given and let our small worries scatter away. i am ever reminded of what is right and good and important again.

again.

we will be with them again.
i know this for sure.

p.s. i will be Blogging Golightly next week so i can tie up last minute strings for the upcoming harvest boutique. am getting super excited and nervous, but mostly excited. i also have a goal to figure out what this boy will be for halloween. thank you for your purchases from the mini mart shop this week. i entirely appreciate it. your kind comments really do me good. customers who take the time to email me after receiving goodies are almost too good to be true; i can't get enough of your awesome feedback. i'll be shipping your orders tomorrow. the new harvest postcards are going fast, so please don't hesitate to snatch yours up.