Kith and Kin

I woke up late today. The happy oversleep of a good time the day before ... snuggled in a pile of blankets and warm but not just from that; also from (to quote Clark Griswold) “the warmth of kith and kin”. I don’t know what kith is but I’m guessing it has something to do with that feeling you get when you’re surrounded by family. Different generations in one place. Walking from room to room and passing conversations between Aunt and Neice,  cousin to cousin. Out in the yard the next generation,  the great grandkids are jumping in a bounce house while the older great grands are playing giant versions of jenga and connect four. Siblings reconnecting over food and little pockets of family tradition rebuilding themselves all over the house. I’m laying in bed in awe of being a part of the magic, ordinary perfection of the day. Good food and too much, laughing and Christmas music and crazy ornaments all surrounded by the people you love.  The people who collectively make you YOU. I think that’s what Clark Griswold was talking about as he stood frozen with his family staring out at a tree in the snow. I’m going to lay here and enjoy my happiness hangover a bit longer.....

Straycation

For a little over 20 years my family has kept an annual summer trip tradition thanks to my dad and his big sisters family. So many great posts to be shared about the trip in general but today I’ll be specific. Each year I’d pack my kids and all their equipment up and schlep it to the Eastern Sierra’s for two weeks.  Part of my ritual was to walk down to the payphone each night to call the husband back home who could never go because he was working. Twice in twenty years he joined us. Most of the time we fought about how long Id be gone, what was he gonna do for food, what about the laundry? I’d worry about what he was doing without my watchful eye. How far would he stray this year. My kids bathed in the kitchen sink and learned how to bait hooks and clean fish. Their dad learned the boundaries of what would become jokingly referred to later by my friends and I as his “straycation”.  (Spoiler alert .. He did the same stuff he was doing when I was home, just without my prying eyes). I never fully relaxed despite my parents valiant efforts to allow me naps and quiet time. What a shame I could never let go of what wasn’t mine to control to begin with. One year he threw a party for a young neighbors birthday and forgot to turn the spa off afterwards. For a week. That was expensive. I found out later that he regularly hosted parties in my absences or just never came home at all. After my divorce I went back to work and the two week trips were left to just the kids and my parents but we kept the tradition alive. I’d join for a weekend  or longer if I was able. Slowly, I started to relax a little more. No more payphone  calls for bad news. This year, for the first time I have invited a guest. My boyfriend is joining us. He’s flying to California just for the trip. The point in this very abbreviated story is this - the people who want you and your time make it happen. They show up. No prodding or pleading required. No watchful eyes necessary because the words match the deeds. I spent too long trying to put a square peg into a round hole. What a disservice I did to that square peg and to myself. Like the saying goes...if you have to force it- it’s probably shit. Cheers to traditions and the gift of family. Eastern Sierra’s here I come.

Just another,, just another day

On a regular Monday night my life all of sudden shifted, like I could physically feel it. In the past that feeling only ever came after loss or huge change. For example; when i graduated  high school, or when my first grandparent died, or when I realized my marriage was over.  The heavy shift from one reality to another that just occurs with no warning and then BAM your life looks different than the day before. It feels different.  It’s almost tangible and it’s been that kind of week (yes I know it’s only Tuesday). My bonus son slept over and went to breakfast with my little unit minus one yesterday. That night  my two kids who still live with me, along with my daughters boyfriend went to sushi with my boyfriend and I  (my unit minus one). The meal was really good, normal exchange of family type conversations along with some razzing about my son taking his hat off for dinner. I had somewhere I needed to be other than home right after the meal so I left the three of them to ride home with my boyfriend. I got into my car to drive away and had to pull over because right in that moment I realized that I LEFT the three of them to ride home with HIM, like a family. Then it hit me... We are a family. He’s not their dad and he doesn’t try to be, he just loves them where they are. He’s not my husband and I don’t know if he’ll ever be but he’s present and he accepts us all for who we are and offers his help if we ask. Like we do for him. Like the best kind of family would do. We are present for each other in all the moments good and bad and last night in my opinion, we became a family. The shift occurred over a mundane task but I didn’t second guess it happening or even have to ask if he minded because I already knew he wouldn’t. That feels like heaven. It’s brand new in my life and probably in theirs too. Cheers to my new little family. My kids are loved.. all of them and so are his. Our blending might look like a crazy afghan to some but to me it’s the most beautiful, ordinary, tapestry. It’s love.

Happy or Content

Happy is a really important word in our culture. If you’re  not happy then you’re expected to do something about it. Take a class or a pill. Get an injection, have a surgery. Buy the things. Take a trip. Happy is a fleeting feeling. Happy is simple and one dimensional. I have been happy with a whole bunch of things, people and situations but the happy wears off. Kinda like the flavor in a stick of Fruit Stripe gum. Intense and delicious for a short period of time and then it leaves you flat. You can chase happy for years and spend tons of money for those few, sharp tasty moments or you could be patient and wait for content to find you.Content is the wise older sister of happy. Content let’s you feel a kaleidoscope of emotions. It isn’t one dimensional.  You can be content and still working on a goal while happy makes you feel like it’s ok to stand still. Content let’s you bask in all the satisfaction  of finally living in the glow of what you’ve prayed for, wished for, dreamed of. Happy let’s you feel it on the surface, content gets in your bloodstream. I have been happy to be my children’s mother every day of their lives. I am content to see how they’ve turned out so far, good, solid perfectly imperfect humans. I was happy when I was single. Most days. More days I was happy to be out of a dysfunctional relationship and taking care of my kids,  trying to figure out what to be when I grew up. Today  am totally content in my new role as a girlfriend. I don’t feel the need to adjust myself for him, he loves me in all my stubborn, feisty, weirdness and helps me grow without making me feel defective for it. Happy is fine but content is better. Which one are you?

Magic City- Magic Man

I can remember vividly standing on the bridge at Wabash and Wacker locking my heart to the city with a little silver padlock that I bought at the Walgreens down the road because I’d come to the conclusion that this City, along with my family and friends, was my true love. I’d decided to stop dating for a while at that point because the dating pool was more of a muddy puddle. I also remember looking around me at the men who passed by and and thinking that if that elusive right guy did exist he was probably in this city... or somewhere nearby. He damn sure wasn't in California. I said a quick, silent prayer for the City to help that right guy find me. Chicago had saved my life a couple years before so I figured it could do it again. That was in 2013. Flash forward 4 years and a couple of  good lessons later and I’m riding shotgun to a Vons parking lot  in Calabasas with my bff to deliver food to her husband and his crew who are working to restore power after some historic wildifires nearly ruined my state. I get out of the car to grab the food bags and her hubby introduces me to his devastatingly handsome coworker. As I shook his hand I remember thinking to myself that his wife was a lucky woman. While still shaking his hand I wondered if he actually was married... couldn't see any evidence on his strong, working man hand. A month later that same handsome man turns out to be the guy my bffs hubby wants to set me up with, so clearly not married.  He walked into the local sports bar to meet us for drinks and my heart skipped a beat or three. I remembered his eyes immediately. I looked into those eyes as he sat next to me at the table and all I could think about was kissing him or holding his hand or slow dancing  like teenagers. I just wanted to be as close to him as possible for as long as possible. It’s been almost a year and I don’t feel any different except maybe I feel it even more, on a deeper level. Chicago conspired with God and my best friends husband to send me the man I’d been waiting for.  A good man, an old school gentleman who loves his mom and treats his ex wife well. A man with Midwest roots and California sunshine in his heart. A man with the most beautiful  eyes and most glorious beard I’ve ever seen. I could gush about him all day but I won’t. I’ll just say if you’re still looking for your magic man, don’t give up. He’s out there, waiting for you to be who YOU need to be. Say your prayers, do your work and maybe make a trip to the bridge at Wabash and Wacker .. bring a padlock if you do.

diaper guilt

When I think about it I’m a weird mix of hippie and capitalist. I’ve always known this about myself but just recently started feeling the sharp angles of the two grinding against each other. For example I buy a lot of my clothes at thrift stores because I like the idea of not buying brand new, it feels a bit like recycling to me. Plus you can find some really cool stuff for less dough. I like the idea of hand me downs and I used to host clothing swap parties when I had a roomier house. There’s a book swap coming soon to my tiny living room because I got over having a small house and I’m gonna do it anyway but I’ll still drop as much extra cash as possible on fresh books when I can. I use reusable water bottles but I insist on straws in public places. I’ve worked in restaurants, I know what goes on with the glasses. I keep the heater so low your nose would freeze but will shamelessly run the swamp cooler or A/C until we get the same result. Also, I use K-cups. Like A LOT of K-cups. I’ve tried the reusable one but it gets grounds in my cup.  I have to have very high thread count sheets and down pillows but I’m pretty sure you’re a tool if you eat foie gras. Some stuff I’m flexible with and some stuff has my kids scratching their heads and asking if I grew up in the Depression. Another thing is I can’t throw food away. I will find ever more creative ways to redo the leftovers that having one less kid in the house has created. I’ll home remedy almost anything rather than buy commercial medicine. I’ll reuse things until they have no life left in them. Also - I have a diaper guilt. 3 kids worth of disposable diapers plus thousands of K- cups divided by all the plastics we use = I’m personally freaking out. Some days I wanna start a compost heap, then turn my remaining  1/2 acre of goat head infested dirt into a farm and get chickens, goats and possibly a cow. Then I take a breath, the capitalist takes over and I compromise with going to a farmers market and cooking jointly with friends or family all commune style. It’s a fine balance and some days I do better than others. Today was 50/50. In the end I’d like to be 80% hippie and 20% capitalist with great vintage style and a welcoming vibe to my home. Happy Friday!

You say it’s your birthday

Once upon a time 40 years ago a beautiful young girl gave birth to her own beautiful baby girl. That baby girl wouldn’t be raised by the young girl, but she would be raised with love and laughter nonetheless. Flash forward to 2 years ago when I got to meet that beautiful baby girl for the first time. She had a big wide smile like mine - the kind that squinches up your eyes and takes up your whole face. She had an easy laugh and a calm yet electric way about her. She had great tattoos and was taller than I expected. I looked at her and knew she was family. She’s my cousin and we all, the whole family, including that  beautiful young girl who was by then a Grandmother, had waited a long time to meet her. It was a moment both ordinary and extraordinary at the same time. Sure we’d talked on the phone, facebooked and emailed before the big day but nothing beats the flesh and bone. The hug that lasts for several minutes and closes the gap on all the years from her birth to that magic day. Today is that beautiful baby girls birthday  and also the birthday of one of her brothers. How amazing is that? Amazing happens all the time in my family and for that I am grateful. For the family who gave my cousin all those years of love and laughter I am grateful. For all the people who helped my Aunt, the beautiful young girl reunite with her one and only baby girl I am grateful. For my God who watched over it all and all the forces of the universe who helped it happen, I am grateful. Happy birthday Cousin. I love you.

The Evil Stepsisters

Day two - Dementia and Alzheimer’s have been on my mind. Also, those names remind me of the evil stepsisters in Cinderella. I have been afraid of developing one or both of these diseases ever since I knew what they were. My memory is my best friend, my own personal time machine. My grandpa told me as child that I had a photographic memory and while I’ve never been tested I can tell you for certain where my family sat at Vinces spaghetti house back when it was still in Ontario. I can close my eyes and see my Mimi’s living room exactly as it was in 1991. I can remember what I wore my first day of high school and where I bought the outfit. I can walk into a friends house and tell them what has been moved on a shelf. Point is I have an uncanny knack for remembering with great and specific detail moments, people and places as far back as toddlerhood. My short term memory has always suffered thanks to my thyroid disease but my long term memory is an Olympic gold medalist.  Thanks to those evil stepsisters there could come a day where I don’t remember my own damn name, the faces of my family or how to write. Those damn sisters could toss out  all the song lyrics, my encyclopedic knowledge of all things 80’s, the States and Capitals like they tossed clothes onto the floor for Cinderella to wash. Worry gives you something to do but doesn’t get you anywhere so I won’t worry about the evil stepsisters. Instead I will exercise my brain in all the ways I know. I will take suggestions about other ways to fight. I will eat brain food and drink plenty of water. PS... the stepsisters names are actually Druzella and Anastasia. I remember because my Mimi & Grandpa took me to see Cinderella at the Foothill Center movie theater in Azusa and I had frozen junior mints for the first time that day.

New in 19 - Day One.

Day One. The cursor blinks at me as I decide what to share for the first blog of 2019. My day one began with tears driving out of LAX after dropping my son and his girlfriend at their gates. Drove home on a freeway so empty it made me wonder if I’d missed the Apocalypse. Crawls back into my deliciously comfy Christmas gift jammies and went to sleep for a few hours. First productive activity  

was to successfully unsubscribe from over 30 emails because as part of my New in 19 plan I have decided to accept less clutter into my life and the Inbox was an easy win. Less emotional clutter, less physical clutter. Less STUFF period. If it is not beautiful, useful, or necessary to my health and well being it is not allowed to stay. Be that human or otherwise. My next goal for the rest of this 24 hours that I get to live in is to finish a book started before Christmas, then I will eat some leftovers from my NYE lunch, visit with my parents in person and then I’m not sure. As a precursor to my New in 19 plan I ditched cable and I have until the middle of next week to decide what to replace it with. I am enjoying the freedom from the Box but let’s not be crazy....I can’t miss my Chicago shows. I’m happy to report that of the roughly 20 things on my 2018 Vison Board only 3 remain to be accomplished. Thank you 2018 for the lessons and the blessings. Thank you in advance 2019 for what I believe will be more of the same.  I realize as I wrap this up that I have mentally committed to one blog per day for this year. To quote Anne Lamott “I don’t think you have time to waste not writing”. I love you Day One.