Down South - in between the wedding festivities

 My brother is one of my favorite people. When he went away to college, I missed him terribly and in the midst of teenage angst, my exasperated parents would send me to stay with him for the weekend, hoping he could figure me out.   He didn't pry into my life, he just listened, and became a close friend.  

I knew there was no way I would do this trip without him there for support, and I also knew there isn't anyone in the world I'd rather go to Nashville with.  My brother is an incredibly talented musician, and totally into food.   (Just an FYI, because I'm still bitter.  My brother got the dimples, the musical genes, the good teeth and the good eyebrows.  I just got the leftover mutant genes, such as the ability to fold a paper airplane and remember what people ordered at restaurants.)

I'm a California Native, and having never traveled to the south, I was a bit alarmed at how many people warned me, "The South is different..."  However, I knew everything would be okay once I stepped off the plane and saw this.

We actually had to drive an hour outside of Nashville to get to where the festivities were taking place.  I was amazed at how green everything was.  It is gorgeous. 

There were a ton of Civil War sites and we strolled through multiple old cemeteries. 

The place we stayed wasn't quite on par with the Four Seasons, so we opted not to go for a dip in the aluminum pool.  

 There are churches on every street corner, and even the high rises have steeples. 

One morning my brother and I drove a few miles north to cross the border into Kentucky. 

If only we had stayed one more week, we could have gone to the derby!

We made our way back to Tennessee and for my Dad's Bachelor Party, we took him to lunch at Cracker Barrel.   

I was baffled to see Mac'n'Cheese and Spiced Apples listed under "Vegetables" on the menu.  The food was very good and very heavy.  The biscuits were crazy fluffy and I rediscovered that I love carbs and butter.  

 

My Dad and Steplady had a lovely party the night before the wedding for friends and family.

 

One thing I love about my new family, is that they insisted on jeans for the party.  I threw on some pearls to quiet my mother's voice in my head.  I can just hear her saying, "Well, at the very least, put on a skirt and some lipstick..."   I heard her voice in my head a lot on this trip. 

 

 My dad was "coming down with something" and had the chills.  Personally, I think it was pre wedding jitters. During the party, we wrapped him in blankets. 

By the next day, my dad was on the mend, just in time for the nuptials. It was good to see my dad happy, but it was still weird to see his arm around another lady. 

 Want to see something crazy?  I think my new siblings and I look alike.  What do you think? 

After all the festivities, my brother and I had one night out on the town in Nashville.

I found Elvis and asked him to whisper the directions to some good BBQ.  

 On every street corner there was a musician singing their heart out.  We stumbled on this Amish Family preaching and singing... and I would have joined them on their buggy ride home, but they had microphones... which made me doubt their authenticity... 

 My brother and I went into one of the local "Honky Tonks" and settled in to watch some bands.  Within an hour I felt my shoulders relax and I felt all the stress and the grief from the last few months melt away with the sweet soulful sound of classic country songs by Patsy Cline and Johnny Cash. 

For the rest of the night, we slipped in and out of bars listening to different bands.

 We were having the best time. 

 When we got hungry, we hit Jack's BBQ, for some delicious Southern BBQ.  I swear I died and went to heaven, it was unlike anything I've ever tasted. 

The next morning, I was sad to leave the south. My brother and I had the best time together and I found Southern Hospitality to be endearing.  

 

I knew my trip wouldn't be complete without a big ole southern breakfast.   The grits were delicious and I couldn't stop eating them.   

Total # of times I was called "Sugar" on this trip by strangers: 16
Total # of times I was told some form of  "Bless your heart" or "Have a blessed day": 23
Total # of times I laughed with my brother:  1,172

Thanks to the good folks at American Airlines, I arrived home safely...  And thanks to Mr. Man who held down the fort so beautifully while I was gone, I arrived home to find this...

They didn't even notice that I came home until I did a cannonball into the pool, while yelling, "Howdy Y'all!"

My Family, version 2.0

 

One year and two days after my mom passed away, my father called me to let me know that he was engaged to be married.   I knew this was coming, he had been dating like a madman starting three weeks after my mom's passing. My hope was that she would be nice and that she would make my dad happy. 

My dad wanted me to meet his fiance in Febraury, and so I agreed.   I would pick them up at the train station and spend an hour with them.  Mr. Boy wanted to meet her, AK wanted nothing to do with it.  As I drove to the train station, my heart started pounding and the familiar phrase of, "I don't want to do this." repeated in my head.   As I neared the station, I saw my dad with his arm around a petite lady, who was not my mom.   It all seemed wrong, and I hit the gas and drove right on by the train station leaving them standing there on the curb.  Mr. Boy kept pestering me, "Mom, why did you drive right by Grandpa?"   I just needed a moment to think this through.   I summoned all my courage, made a U turn and headed back to the train station.   I picked them up and spent the next hour with them.  

I spent 34 years of my life seeing my mom and dad together. It seemed so weird to see him with someone else.  I know he is incredibly lonely, I know he needs a companion, I know he deserves happiness... I know, I know, I know, but my heart still longs to reverse the clock and go back to the "Before".   Before there was cancer, before there was heartache, hospice, death, and a funeral.  He is ready to move forward, I am not.

"Steplady" as she was called in our house, because Stepmom didn't quite seem right, turned out to be lovelier than lovely.  Kind, endearing, warm, and friendly, she is impossible to dislike.  

This past weekend my brother, who has been with me through it all,  met me in Dallas to fly out to Tennessee for the wedding.  When I got to the crowded gate at the airport and couldn't find him in the crowd, I stifled the urge to call out "Marco?"  When we were little, we spent hours in the pool playing Marco Polo, and used that same game to find each other in crowds our whole childhood. 

I arrived in Tennessee with an emotional gameplan.  I simply wouldn't have feelings.   I would stifle them, smile, and go into auto pilot.   I brushed up on Tennessee football trivia, funny anecdotes, and interesting news topics to chat with the "New Family" about. I would be charming, but emotionally distant. 

I spent the last few months building up walls, that southern hospitality knocked down within the first few minutes.  Steplady's adult children were kind, welcoming, and endearing.   They embraced us and celebrated the new family.   I was caught off guard and it was impossible not to like them.   I felt guilty for wanting to keep them at arms length. They were compassionate and knew things were hard for my brother and I.  They wanted me to know, my mother was honored. We had things in common and I couldn't help but instantly fall in love.  I had always wanted a big family, and now I had a large family with lots of siblings.    

My dad and his new wife were married on Saturday.  During the ceremony, I found a spot inside the temple where they were married to focus my attention. I had a multitude of emotions, happy, sad, good, weird, and excited.  The excitement between my dad and his new wife was contagious, and they were beyond overjoyed during the ceremony.  

   

I had been unprepared to hear people call the Steplady by my dad's last name.  I hadn't even thought that she would be called, "Mrs. X", yet after the ceremony people were calling her that in a celebratory manner.    In my world, Mrs. X was my mom, for 49 years she had owned that name and built the reputation it carried with it.  That was the hardest part of the whole thing, and I felt that familiar stab of grief as people congratulated her by calling her by her new last name.   I could hear my mother's voice, "Don't you dare let people see you upset.  This is your Dad's day."  Appearances were important to her, so I quietly slipped away to pull myself together.   Do you ever really stop grieving?  

Pictures and an intimate lunch for close friends and family completed the celebration.   When it came time to leave, I was sad to bid my new siblings goodbye. I am positive there will be multiple visits in the next few years. I never thought that when I wished at the age of ten for a big family, that it would come true 15 years later.  Now when people say, "Do you come from a big family?"   I can answer, "Yes! There are 6 kids, 2 girls, 4 boys."  And maybe I can get away with having a little southern drawl when I say it.  I've always wanted an accent.  Life is funny how that works out. 

Yes gets Down & Dirty, Where does Yes take you, Part 3

Part of an ongoing project called, "The Yes Project", where I resolve to say YES more to opportunities that come my way.  Click here to see the other posts.

My friend Hillary called me during February and said, "Hey let's do a mud run in 2 months!" When I started to balk at the idea, she said, "Just say YES!" and so I did.  I didn't quite comprehend that I would have to train during tax season.   To say I was unprepared was an understatement.   I had felt a chest cold coming on the day before and neglected to read the course map.  I had no idea that we would be running 17 kilometers of our 5k uphill.  (Maybe it was more like 2.6 kilometers uphill.)  It definitely made me reevaluate whether or not this race was a good idea somewhere around the 2 kilometer mark. 

Before I left home, I was inspired by these little love notes on my computer from Mr. Man. 

 This mud run consisted of a 5k with Military-style obstacles interspersed.  We scaled walls, army crawled through tunnels, did push ups, and crawled through mud pits.  Here we are prior to the race, optimistic, and full of life.

 

There were moments during the race where I thought, "I paid to torture myself, what was I thinking?"  But, I am also amazed at how incredible our bodies are and grateful that our bodies do these crazy things. 

 

 There is nothing in the world like crossing that finish line. 

 We came, we ran, we conquered and had the time of our life!

I am so glad that I said yes, and I will definitely say yes to doing it next year!

Grey and Gray

When I woke up this morning to go for a morning walk, everything was grey and a steady drizzle was falling.  The hillside was covered in drops of silvery dew and when I came home the house was warm and cozy. 

 

My children were sleeping soundly while the clock chimed that it was time to get ready for the school day.  Yet,  I couldn't bring myself to wake my slumbering children, their bodies must really need the extra sleep.  Perhaps we could skip today, stay inside, read books, and watch movies.  So we did just that.    

While the kids slept until well past 10, I worked on this chair, my very first attempt at a "Tufted Chair".  Destined for Mr. Boy's room, I think it might just end up in my room, it looks like a perfect spot to curl up with a book

 

I have been dying to paint the living room grey all tax season long, but I have a long list of fix-it's that need to be tackled first.  So, I used my favorite trick of painting swatches behind a painting, so that you don't random squares of paint on your walls while you try to decide the hue.  

 

What do you vote for the top (Bay Waves) or the Bottom (Gravity)?  

Where does YES take you? Part 2

**Part in an ongoing series where I make an effort to sayYes more to the opportunities that come my way, aka The Yes Project**  

Let me introduce you to my pal Mrs. Berg. 

 

She is my kryptonite, I just can't say no to her.  Whenever Mrs. Berg is around, things get a little crazy and it's always a good time.  One minute your on the set of a tv show, next thing you know you are in a van pulled over on Sunset Blvd, and while one of you is puking in a trash can, you are all high fiving each other as you proclaim this, "The best vacation ever!"   

Mrs. Berg and a bunch of my friends came into town for a girls weekend right in the middle of tax season.  It was brutal, because I wanted to spend my time with my friends, but I had to work.  I loved that they worked around my schedule and we spent late nights giggling together.  

 

Cupcakes?  Yes please, and one thing is for sure, these gals know their cupcakes.

 

Thanks to Mr. Neighborstein and his sweet hookup, we got to be VIP guests at The Tonight Show.  (My apologies Conan, I feel like a cheater, but you haven't sent me VIP tix.) 

Again, I must point out that when Mrs. Berg is around, you never know what will happen.   We got lost trying to get back to our car, and ended up using this phone for help.  It doesn't give you the kind of help you think it would.

Then on another night, Mrs. Berg hooked us up to be guests in the studio with the Tim Conway Jr. Show.

   

I think I might have a career in radio, because I received two Golden Mic awards for my performance.  They are shockingly lighter than they look. 

  

 It was a crazy few days crammed with lots of great memories.... so glad I said, "Yes, Mrs. Berg... I'll go anywhere with you."

Easter

There are two times out of the year that I get to take my darling children and dress them in ridiculous outfits,   Christmas and Easter. Even Baby Roller Hand gets a new dress to match the kiddos.

 

And then I force them to put their arms around each other and pretend to love each other. 

I beg and plead with them, "Please smile, Please, I beg of you of you, just one good picture."

Personally, I love little girls in Easter Bonnets and girls in white dresses with blue satin sashes.

 

Finally, my countless bribes and endless pleading pays off.  

 

Do you think these guys are going to mind if I make them dress in matching clothes when they are in college?

Mind Reading

Mr. Boy is obsessed with my cell phone. He constantly asks to play on it and we are trying to be one of those family's that actually communicates verbally instead of via text.

The other day Mr. Boy was relentless in begging to play on my phone. I was trying to hold him off during our ten minute drive to baseball.  Surely, we can handle a ten minute car ride without Angry Birds.

 

Mr. Boy:  Moooooom, why not?

Moi:  Because I want to talk to you.  Tell me something funny that happened at school today.

Mr. Boy: I don't really like talking, you know that I'm not the talking kind of guy. And nothing funny ever happens at school.  School is boring.

Moi:  Tell me something terrible that happened today at school.

Mr. Boy:  Nothing happened

Moi:  Did aliens invade your school today? 

Mr. Boy:  Stoooooooop! Mom, just let me play with the phone.  

Moi:  No.  

*notices pensive looking man waiting for the bus* 

Moi:  Mr. Boy what do you think that man is thinking about?  

Mr. Boy:  He's wondering why his mom won't let him play on her iPhone.  

I could not help but burst out laughing, I mean c'mon, he gets at least two points for being witty.  If only he was that determined in learning fractions....  how on earth am I going to survive the teenage years with this kid? 

No really! It happened to a friend of a friend of mine..

A long time ago, my dear friend Cinnamon (yes that is her real name) introduced me to her oldest friend, Tamitha.  We became friends in spite of, in lieu of, or because of Cinnamon.  I think I knew we would be friends forever from the first time we met.  

One day we met up for lunch and when I unloaded the challenge I was facing,  she just looked me in the eye and said, "That's hard, I don't have the answer to that, but I know you are going to be okay regardless of the outcome."  Instead of being tritely comforting, "You'll get through it." or "It's not a big deal" or "It will work out."  She gave me love and reassurance. We've spent many hours laughing and crying over the years, and it is always a good time when we are together.   Right now, she is facing a big trial and I am in awe with how she is handing things with nothing but grace. 

   

Recently, Tamitha turned 40, and her loving family threw her a giant elegant bash to celebrate. Tamitha is the one on the left, Cinnamon is the one on the right. i'm the one in the middle in case you couldn't tell.

 

After a lovely dinner, the party took a turn.  And just like every good party,  everyone was dancing with a Gorilla and I ended up wearing a lampshade on my head.   

In other words, the party was fantastic! 

St. Patrick's Day is Mr. Boy's Day

To celebrate St. Patrick's Day, we had a grand evening where we crammed 50 adults and children into our home, while the rain came down outside.   I love this pile of coats and boots by the front door, it's a rare sight around this town.  

 

While our guests enjoyed Corned Beef & Cabbage or Bangers & Mash, my mind kept wandering back to the real reason why we were celebrating St. Patrick's Day.  Nine years ago on St. Patrick's Day,  Mr. Man & I nervously walked into the adoption agency to meet a birthmother who had chosen us to adopt the baby she was carrying.  We were terrified at meeting this woman, and had a wide range of emotions that day.  Would she like us?  What would this relationship be like? Strained? Awkward? Intrusive? When we walked into the room and saw her, it felt like we had known her for 100 years.   We laughed, we cried, we talked, and when it came time to say goodbye, I knew that my life had changed forever.  I was going to be a mother. 

 

Four months later after multiple visits, our beautiful 1/2 Irish boy was born and placed into my arms.  In the last nine years, I have given thanks each and every night for the courageous birthmothers of my children and of children everywhere. 

 

I see so much of Mr. Boys birthmother in him, in his smile, his eyes, and his sense of humor.  I love it, because it reminds me of  the women I love so dearly, who made me a mother. 

Good Fortune or Just Optimistic?

 

It's tax season and and I'm right in the middle of the chaos.   My office is still part of my old OC life and so I'm in the car driving for 2 plus hours or more a day.   I feel like I'm constantly on the road.  Then add the kids after school activities and I practically live in my car.  It's temporary and I know this, but I can't help but dream about vacations, beaches, and the Super Ultimate Mega Summer Part Deux. 

Today at lunch we got Chinese Food and when I opened my fortune cookie, I couldn't help but laugh.  "You will travel far and wide."   Really?  Is it possible the fortune is referring to the 100 plus miles I'm logging each day as I zig zag to the office, baseball, and ballet?  Maybe, but for now, I'm going to pretend that this fortune is a prediction there is a sunny beach and fruity drink in my future. Anyone care to join me?

My Secret Talent

 

I always admire people who can sing or dance... their talents are so visible.  When I was growing up, our family didn't pursue after school activities.   While other kids did sports, dance, or play musical instruments, I hid out in the treehouse spying on the neighborhood.  

I was convinced up until the age of 18 that I was destined to be an Olympic Champion Ice Skater.  I'd never tried it, but I just *knew* it was my destiny.  If only my parents had let me take lessons, I would have gone straight to the top.  Then when I was 18, I tried Ice Skating multiple times.... I was terrible at it.  Maybe it wasn't my destiny.   

My brother hogged all the musical genes and the dimples, so I got stuck with the less obvious talents.  It has always embarrassed me when people ask me what my talents are, because when you say, "I can recall what people ordered at restaurants."  they don't seem all that impressed. 

Last week, we attended the Blue and Gold Banquet for Cub Scouts for Mr. Boy.  The after dinner activity was a paper airplane competition, which just happens to be my secret talent.  I can fold a wicked fast paper airplane.  I helped my children fold their planes and gave them some pointers.  They both placed first in their divisions and my children thought I was amazing.   

Sure, Paper Airplane competitions don't come with the fancy sequined outfits and the grandiose music, but for just one day my kids thought I was the most talented human on the planet.  

What's your secret talent? 

Missing those who have gone before us...

 

Last night while I was sleeping, I had a dream and heard my mom's voice.  The desire to see her was so strong that I sat up in bed and called out, "Mom, wait come back!" Then I realized I had been dreaming.  It's funny how you think you are fine but then have these moments where you miss your loved one so intensely.  

But this last week, I am missing my Mr. Man's Dad, my Father in Law.  He was an accountant like me, and while I spend my days wading through tax returns, I think of him.  He passed away seven years ago this month from ALS (aka Lou Gehrig's Disease). More than anything, I miss his fatherly guidance and wisdom.  He was the wisest man I've ever met and right now I wish I could sit down one more time with him. 

Mr. Man was my age when he lost his dad, and I truly couldn't comprehend the loss that he felt, but now I do. Even better, he understands the loss I feel, which I guess if these are life events you have to go through, it's nice to have someone who understands.