Read, Watched, Listened

I love reading just about everything, watching comedy and documentary-type things, and have wholeheartedly embrace the podcast.  I also enjoy hearing about what other people are reading, watching, and listening.  Here's my two cents worth.

Read

Present Over Perfect
I am a definite Shauna Niequist fan, and this latest work was another beautiful read.  She has such a gift for storytelling and stringing words together.  It should be obvious from the title, but Present Over Perfect emphasizes a turn away from the rush and the spotlight and towards what's actually important; family, friends, home.  Choosing where and what we say yes to.  However, I do have to say that as an average mom with a messy playroom and an abundance of sticky fingerprints and not all that many engagements to keep in the first place, it was a bit hard to relate to.  I still love her storytelling, but I just can't relate to saying "no" to such big opportunities in life that she is experiencing (i.e. speaking engagements, interviews, books etc.).  I still appreciate her perspective, but it definitely wasn't relatable for me from that standpoint.

Simply Tuesday
This made a bit more sense to me.  Emily P. Freeman's idea that it's in our "Tuesday moments" - Tuesday being the most ordinary day of the week - that we can really thrive and find ourselves.  So much of our life is made up of the Tuesdays, not the big grand sweeping moments that we might like or think it to be.  I loved her perspective about being a bench sitter, someone who embraces the small moments  and marks them as something important.  This book was a breath of life, especially for someone in a season of raising very small children.  Also check out her hashtag #itssimplytuesday on Instagram for some lovely, ordinary, inspiration.

The Life Giving Home
Okay, I guess my books had a theme this month.  Being present, embracing small moments, the importance of the home, etc.  I've been listening to Sally Clarkson's podcast for awhile, and was excited to finally dive into one of her books (which was co-written with her oldest daughter).  She and I have a lot of the same opinions on the correlation between home life and the health of our families, and the importance of rituals and routines to mark our seasons and our days.  I love her idea of daily teatimes.  Her book is full of inspiration (she is definitely an idealist, which helps this self-proclaimed realist to dream a little bigger) and practical stories and ideas on how she breathed life into her own home.  From listening to her podcast and some other interviews, many of the stories were familiar to me, but reading the book was a good reminder and nudge at the beginning of the year to keep up and create some rituals of my own.

Watched

Top Chef
Tyson and I are diehards.  We love it.  We catch up with each week's episode and Last Chance Kitchen online.  This season, half of the competitors are repeats (or "veterans" as they call them) so if you've watched previous seasons, you'll recognize some familiar faces.  There's been some decent drama this season, too, though not in a dumb way, that have made a few of the episodes even more fun to watch.

Listened

The Axe Files

My political-minded cousin recommended this one to me and I can't get enough.  David Axelrod, a former senior advisor to President Obama, interviews people in the political sphere from both sides of the party lines.  Even when he interviews someone that I disagree with (I'm looking at you, Sean Spicer) I come away with a greater understanding of who they are and where they are coming from.  If you're scratching your head and feeling despair over the last election (#allthewailingandgnashingofteeth), I strongly recommend listening to Axelrod's well-reasoned, articulate, intelligent conversations.  Start with his post-election chat with Doris Kearns Goodwin.  Or his interview with President Barack Obama...but you just might need some tissues for that one.  (Side note: also has the classiest intro music I've ever heard for a podcast.)

Thirty

No longer a twenty-something.

I'm not sure what I think about that.  I've been a twenty-something for so long - it feels like about a decade, amiright? - that it's weird to be in a new place.  Like it or not, age is a part of our identity.  We don't really remember our youngest years, though every birthday is a thrill then, until we hit double digits, which is it's own form of excitement.  Pre-teen segues into teenager and then we hit our twenties and it seems to slow down a bit and we stay there awhile.  There are so many milestone birthdays all piled on top of one another 1-10!  13! 16! 18! 20 and 21!  But this is the first *big* birthday in-what? Five years?  Nearly ten?

I want to say it feels different, but it really doesn't.  I mean, I'm pretty convinced that I've been sitting at twenty-five for the past few years so anyway, so thirty doesn't even seem possible.  But here I am.  And when I stop to actually think about twenty-five?  It seems like eternity ago.

Thirty is definitely NOT twenty-something.

Twenty was college and classes and friends and parties and roommates and projects and papers and deadlines.  At my twentieth birthday, I hadn't even met Tyson yet (though that was just a few months away).  I wasn't looking to meet anyone and I had halfway convinced myself that I would move somewhere out east after graduation in a couple of years.  I wasn't officially in my university's interior design program yet.  At twenty, I hadn't even met most of my core group of friends in college.  I wasn't writing as much as I do now and I hadn't realized how much I enjoy food and the process of cooking, which are things that seem so integral to my life right now.  I probably did still drank the same amount of coffee, though.  Pulling all-nighters hasn't really changed.  It's just that now it's with a baby instead of a design project (although really, both of those things are kind of my babies).  Otherwise, thirty looks absolutely nothing like twenty.  Twenty was very different.

Twenty-five.  At twenty-five, Tyson and I had been married for a little over a year.  I was working my first interior design job as a closet designer, though I didn't yet know that it wasn't going to last but a few more months.  We had moved the previous fall to a new apartment in Madison, but we didn't really know how much longer Tyson had left in school, much less what our next steps would be.  We certainly didn't anticipate having twins in another couple of years, or adding a third baby to the mix almost exactly two years to the day after that.  Twenty-five was still so fluid.  So many unknowns.

Now thirty.

Thirty is settled.  It's an interesting switch, since my life at forty will probably look very similar to life at thirty.  Of course I realize that anything can happen.  There will be hard things and happy things and new life and losses along the way, sure.  But it's incredibly likely that we'll be in the same house, with the same kids, albeit a decade older (even if kids in their double-digits seems absolutely unfathomable now).  We'll (hopefully) have many of the same friends.  Thirty is more determined, and life is settling into a pattern that was absolutely unimaginable five years ago, ten years ago.  Heck, even two years ago.

It's almost like this is my first "grown-up" birthday.  In many ways there are fewer unknowns.  Most of the big questions in life have been more or less settled: marriage, kids, house.  There's not the "where will I even be what will life look like" questions that there were at twenty, or twenty-five.  My kids will have memories of me in my thirties.  They'll start to make memories and form attachments to our traditions, our values, our family life, during this decade.  Heck, I remember my mom wearing a faded pink sweatshirt around the house, emblazoned with the words "thirtysomething" printed in teal.  For all I know she wore it into her forties.

In fact, I should ask her if she still has it, tucked away in a drawer somewhere.  I could use it for about the next decade.

These Are the Days

I lay snuggled up in bed last night, propped up on pillows as I finished Emily P. Freeman's Simply Tuesday.  Towards the end she talked about writing down in her journal "these are the days of..." and listed what was going on in her life.  I immediately set her book (well, my tablet) aside, grabbed my journal, and started scribbling.

These are the days of:

• (too) early mornings with (too) early risers
• leggings and comfy shirts
• Cheerios for breakfast
• ...found later scattered on the floor and tucked into folds of clothing

• not enough coffee (at least of the hot variety)
• knowing all the words to the songs in Daniel Tiger and Super Why
• living in danger of being loved to death by a big brother and sister

• wiping too many bottoms
• being bundled in a dinosaur coat and a polka dot one

• three in the Target cart
• picking up too many toys
• savoring the quiet of naptime (blessed naptime)
• resenting the apperance of a too-short napper

• the infectious excitement of a baby when I walk into the room
• lazy (as much as possible) afternoons

• Frozen sing-alongs
• negotiating the battlefield of two toddlers and a baby playing with the same toy

• counting down to the 5 o'clock hour
• everyone around the table
• a couple of kids who are constantly being told to "sit down at the table"
• post-dinner games of memory
• everyone in the tub

• early bedtimes
• picking up too many toys again
• snatched moments of "me" time 

• snatched moments of "us" time
• collapsing into a comfortable, fluffy, never-made-because-why-bother bed
• night wakings
• a pep talk the next morning to motivate myself to go at it for another day

The Year of Creativity

Create.

That is my word for this year: 2017.

It's a new thing for me, to choose a word, a theme, for the year.  I've never been much of a resolutions girl or even a writing-down-my-goals girl.  Resolutions have always seemed a little, I don't know, forced? overly hopeful? just plain cheesy? to me.

But a word?  A word I can do.

For Christmas, Tyson gifted me "The Year of Creativity", put on by the ladies of the Coffee + Crumbs blog.  It's essentially a year long class, prompting (or maybe at times forcing) the act of writing and cultivating creativity.  He knew I wanted to participate, but that it was something I would never gift myself.  (Shout-out to the hubby: you're a keeper!)  This gift, this year of creativity, is what inspired my word this year, and to even bother to choose one in the first place.

Create.

And I mean create in the fullest sense of the word - to create with my writing, certainly - but also in other ways as well.  To create areas of my home that are cozy and inviting and welcoming, areas that have been somewhat neglected since the chaos of moving and then Tyson being gone and surviving our year of #threeunderthree.  To create food, good food.  I mean, I love me some food.  And I love the making of food.  The entire baking and cooking process is so interesting and therapeutic and, yes, creative, for me.  And to create a peaceful, not frantic, schedule for our family so we can soak up these "little" years.  

This isn't a post with a pretty picture.  I don't have such free reign to create during the "pretty" hours - the sunlight streaming in and a clear, well-rested head with a mason jar of fresh-cut flowers nearby and everything arranged just "so".  That's not how this stage of life works right now.

Much of this creativity is happening in the after-hours, the fringe hours of my day.  It's dark, shadowy even.  Blurry.  It doesn't photograph well.  But this is where my creativity is happening.  This is where you will find me for much of this coming year.  

Kitchen table.  Dark.  Tea.  Or maybe a glass of wine.  Pen.  Journal.  On a good day something sweet will be nearby.  Quiet, above all else.

Tonight, I've actually created several things.  I've created a clean home (i.e picked up 1029 toys).  I even created perfect scenes in the twins' dollhouse as I re-arranged the jumble of furniture for the night (#interiordesigner4life).  I finished creating invitations for the kids' birthday party and sent them off to the printer.  And now I've created this.

The year of creativity has begun.

Post (Super Mega Ultimate Christmas) Weekend

I love scrolling through Instagram and Facebook and seeing everyone's festive Christmas pictures and activities.  Presents and kids and food and fancy clothes and twinkling lights and cookies and bows and sooooo much glitter and new toys, trips, and surprises.  It brings out both the designer and the nesting side of me, seeing everyone's decorations and Christmas outfits and activities and edibles and  then (maayyyybeee) silently critiquing or coveting other people's decor, fashion, and food choices.  Mostly coveting the food choices, let's be honest here.

Knowing, of course, that behind it all are parents and people who are sleep-deprived, who actually feel absolutely out of ideas and energy, and have spent way too much time just trying to find the time to get everything done, with real relationships and family to navigate, love on, and/or avoid.  So we chug some more coffee, close up the social media and work on getting our own presents and houses ready and cozy for our families, and maybe even call it GOOD E-FREAKING-NOUGH and take a little break before the chaos to put our feet up and drink a glass of wine or hot chocolate by the fire.  

And hey, some of our pictures look dang good. 

Or even downright delicious.  A good cookie plate might be one of the most beautiful sights of the holidays.  Chewy gingersnaps, M&M pretzel melts, caramels, and festive chocolate bark.  (Easiest "recipe" ever.  Melt some good dark chocolate bars down (30 second increments in the microwave if you want to make it even easier, and stir, stir, stir between each one.)  Pour chocolate out onto a baking tray lined with parchment paper and spread in a thin layer that is roughly the same thickness throughout.  Sprinkle liberally with toppings of your choice.  I used cranberries, pumpkin seeds, and a healthy dose of sea salt. Refrigerate the entire tray until chocolate is set and then break it all up into small pieces. Voila!  Ridiculously easy homemade chocolate bark.)

(It admittedly makes me a little emotional to see beautifully wrapped gifts torn to pieces.  #realdesignerproblems)

Caden and Brooklyn absolutely lost their freaking MINDS on Christmas Eve when my parents showed up for our small family celebration.  Brooklyn was SHRIEKING with delight as they ran back and forth from the door to the tree, helping to haul presents inside.  "Presents!  Presents!  Presents!!!"  

As you can see, there were absolutely no presents.

(Professional present inspector.)

(Professional tag-ripper-offer.)

(One making weird faces.  One twirling.  One completely oblivious.  We're going to call it a success.)

(Two destroying.  One still oblivious.  Also a success.)

Not really pictured: a whirlwind of present opening, followed by...

Jammies.  Christmas jammies.  

"Dear Santa, Define 'good'."  If there is a more appropriate set of Christmas pajamas for these three I'm not sure what it is.  The older two look a little guilty just standing there.  ;)

(Fun fact: on Christmas Eve, usually later in the evening, I end up decorating a bucket for one lucky recipient the next day.  A bucket?  Yes, seriously, a bucket.  We draw names on my mom's side of the family and one year my dad drew a name and they needed a bucket, apparently? for some reason? and my dad took the idea and RAN with it and now whichever name he draws each year receives a bucket.  A themed bucket.  One year it was bedazzled with rhinestones for my fashionable cousin (who literally took it to the bar with her as a "purse" on New Year's Eve), another year we stepped our production up a notch and used COLORED sharpies instead of just black ones.  And there's a letter with it and everything with the bucket company's name and instructions for your bucket and things to do with your bucket (i.e. take your bucket for a walk, portable bathroom, as a companion at the bar which apparently my cousin ACTUALLY DID) and I don't even know anymore but it is seriously a family tradition around here.  Ten years strong.  If that's not a tradition I don't know what is.  It's like not even weird to us anymore except that now I'm typing this out and it makes NO SENSE except really, it totally does.  People, THIS is why I have a design degree.)

One last round of playing with their new goodies before a reading of The Night Before Christmas...

...and then it was off to bed.  

Which sounds so simple, but a peek behind the scenes would have revealed a little baby who has had issues falling/staying asleep lately (he's stopped sucking those middle two fingers *sob* so now apparently has no other way to sooth himself now) and a couple of bigger kids whose frequent and multiple bed escapes may have elicited a threat of "if you don't stay in your beds I'm going to tell Santa not to come".  And apparently it worked, because...

...he came.

(The anticipation.)

It was hard to tear them away from the dollhouse to open any other presents.  Which was slightly unfortunate, as I had wrapped up the dollhouse people as a separate gift and after making his initial inspection of all things dollhouse Caden realized that "there no people! I need people!" and ran off to the playroom to find...I don't know.  Lego people, maybe?  And it was all we could do to get him to come back to the Christmas tree to unwrap another present because "maybe Santa left you the people as a separate present why don't you try unwrapping THIS VERY SPECIFIC ONE here and let's see".  (Spoiler alert: it totally was the dollhouse people.)  Then Brooklyn opened up the set of pets for the dollhouse and was literally SHAKING with excitement.  (Spoiler alert again: we've already lost the cat and the rabbit.  Looked high and low and in every conceivable nook and cranny.  #reallifewithtoddlers)  (UPDATE: we found them IN THE BRANCHES of the Christmas tree.  Of course.)

(Gifts unwrapped.  Aka daddy's naptime.)

I am so thrilled with this dollhouse.  It's big enough for two to play with, came with most of the sets of furniture, and is beautiful.  Even with only a girl, I would prefer a gender-neutral house  anyway (Just...enough with the pink and sparkles already.  I don't need bedazzled shingles.), and this one has so many great features.

(Enjoying his first Christmas.)

The only thing Caden requested for Christmas was a doctors kit.  I'm happy to report that Santa came through on that one.

(Be still my heart.  Gorgeous clothes and new dollhouses, curly hair and twinkle lights nearby are what Christmas is all about.)

Tyson more or less has most of this week off now.  It used to be such a letdown - could anything be more disappointing to a child than the day after Christmas? - but now it's one of my favorite times of year. The wind is literally howling outside (hello, wind advisory) some snowflakes are swirling, and we are settling into a week of pajamas, comfort food, cozy blankets, new toys, and family time.  I mean, we'll be going slightly stir-crazy by the end of the week, but hey. 

Sometimes that's okay.