a new year resolution

When I moved to college, I created a 3-ring binder with all the recipes I thought I would want or need.  They were organized and mostly handwritten.

Throughout college, the binder became increasingly disorganized {and encrusted with flour}.
With marriage, I "graduated" to cookbooks and tried to transition to a recipe card filing system. 

Recipe cards seemed to work for a lot of people but for a variety of reasons, they did not work for me.

{exhibit a: the recipe box}

Over the years, I amassed a large quantity of recipes that I placed in my recipe "box." 
I do have a tidy shelf of cookbooks {of which I use 3 with regularity} and then...
I have the recipes in my box.
These recipes are clipped {or torn} from magazines, glued onto index cards from friends, printed from the computer, and handwritten onto scraps of paper.  One year, friends and family members sent us their favorite, mostly easy recipes as inspiration for surviving the addition of a newborn baby. 

All those went into the box.

I have created my own recipes for things that I write onto whatever paper is laying nearby. 

Or paper scraps with recipes scratched down while at a friend's house for coffee. 

{exhibit b}

Last week I needed my recipe for spinach-artichoke dip and I went to my box.
The box has no real order; the front is the back and the back is the front. 

Directing someone else to find a recipe in the box can get a little tricky but I knew exactly what I was looking for: the black and white, red hot pepper card with the smudge of spinach on the edge. 

 {exhibit c}

And while I was rifling through this time, I thought to myself:

{Self, this box is out of control!

At least half of these recipes are ones you have never made.

and let's be honest here, you likely won't ever make them...}

And so, a resolution was born:

{exhibit d}

What is your resolution for the new year?

disappointment

i received some disappointing news today.

it is not the end of the world and i will recover.

but i feel a bit crushed and un-moored - somewhere deep in my core.

the resultant pressure is revealing some of those unresolved spaces i carry with me.

and there is not a double tall non-fat toffee nut latte or basket of fried chicken that can fix this right now.

my mind is all over and nowhere in particular.

i am keeping myself busy.

but i have to remind myself to focus.  

to find something to keep me moored and present in the moment.

so, this orchid is it.

my focus. 

i think about how it has yet to bloom and that resonates.

tender care. some water. some light. some time.

{it will bloom}

 

potential and beauty exist - even when it appears/feels otherwise.

cinnamon sticky buns

A few have asked for the sticky bun recipe from my last post.

These are perfect for hosting as you refrigerate the buns overnight and then bake the next day!

Please know, it looks more daunting than it really is.

Here goes:

{I am pretty sure I snagged the recipe from simplyrecipes.com}

To make the dough:

1/4 cup warm water
2 1/4 tsp (1 pkg) active dry yeast
1/3 cup sugar
3/4 cup milk
4 T unsalted butter
3 large egg yolks
1 T finely grated orange zest {my kids like a bit less as a little zest goes a long way for flavor}
1 1/4 tsp salt
4 + cups all purpose flour {it also works to use some whole wheat flour, if you are into that}

In the bowl of an electric mixer, dissolve yeast and 1/3 tsp sugar in the water and let sit until foamy.
{i like to do this part in a liquid measure so I can get the other parts going in the mixer while I wait for the yeast to do its thing}
Combine milk + butter + remaining sugar + egg yolks + orange zest + salt
Add yeast mixture, mixing on low

Add 3 cups flour using the paddle attachment on your mixer and then replace the paddle attachment with a dough hook to incorporate the 1+ cup of flour on a low speed. Once mixed, increase mixer speed to medium to knead the dough into a smooth, slightly sticky ball.

Place the dough into a greased bowl, turning the dough to get a little butter on all "sides," and place in a warm place with a plastic wrap cover.  Let rise until doubled in size {approximately 1-2 hours}
Once doubled, punch down, and turn onto a lightly floured surface.  Let dough sit for approximately 20 minutes while you prepare filling and sticky topping.

To make the topping:

3/4 cup brown sugar (firmly packed)

4 T unsalted butter

3 T honey

1 T light corn syrup

1 1/2 cups pecans (coarsely chopped)

Melt the brown sugar + butter + honey + corn syrup in small saucepan over low heat until sugars are dissolved.  Pour into the bottom of a greased 9 x 13 baking dish. Spread the mixture evenly over the bottom of the dish and sprinkle with pecans. 

To make the filling:

Combine 1/2 cup brown sugar {firmly packed} + 1 T ground cinnamon

Melt 4 T unsalted butter in a small dish, keep separate

To assemble:

Using a lightly floured rolling pin, roll the dough out into a rectangle (approx. 12" x 18").  

Brush the dough with melted butter and sprinkle with the brown sugar+cinnamon mixture. 

Starting with the long side, roll the dough into a log and lightly press the dough at the seam to seal.

Slice the log cross-wise into 15 pieces and place each roll into the baking dish; crowd the rolls so they "just" touch but leave a little room in between for the rolls to rise.

Cover with plastic wrap and place in the refrigerator overnight.

To bake:

Preheat oven to 375 degrees.

Take rolls out of refrigerator and set atop stove while oven is preheating.

Remove plastic wrap and bake in heated oven until tops are golden {approx. 30 - 35 minutes}.

Remove plan from oven and immediately invert the rolls onto a serving platter {a large sheet pan or tray works well too}. Let cool for a few moments and serve warm.

Enjoy!

...and so, i bake

Whenever tragedy befalls a community - nationally or internationally - I feel internal conflict.

You know, the kind of tragedies that grip the attention of people across the globe:

{school shootings, hurricanes and tropical storms, earthquakes, plane crashes, bombings...}

In the moment I am listening to the news across the radio or reading a news article or blog post, I feel the burden of that community's pain. I feel compelled to DO something - to "help" in some way. 

I am drawn in.
I listen a while longer or read "just one more" account.

However, as I withdraw my attention from the stories, I feel the distance of disengagement.
I find myself overcome by the banal tasks of my life - wildly unaffected by the drama unfolding hundreds or thousands of miles away - and I feel a sense of guilt.

Life's equilibrium has shifted, in ways that will take a lifetime to reconcile {if ever}.

And yet,

Life goes on - in ways as ordinary now as moments before the tragic event.

It does not seem fair.  

But neither does it make sense for the completion of all life's tasks to cease.

Compassion: Relief: Guilt

 {internal conflict}

I find I don't really know what to do with the conflict.

I try to remain mindful - emotionally and intellectually present when others want to discuss - but I also need some distraction from the weight of (inter)national grief.

Sometimes it feels overwhelming and so, I bake.

I immerse myself in the kitchen.

 I create something to share.

Then I sit down with my family {the people I love} - we talk and eat and laugh.

For a time, my mind is quieted

Tragedies leave an indelible mark:

We do not ever know what the days, weeks, and years ahead will bring.

But right here and right now,

my heart is grateful.

functional depression

I went to my physician last week for my annual physical.

As a prelude to the physical exam, she completed a depression screening.

Standard procedure, she said {as if she needed to justify asking those questions}

My responses didn't seem to trigger anything in the screening and so we moved on.

But my responses might have triggered something if I had met with her 2 weeks ago.

Because 2 weeks ago, I was in a funk.

Not the kind where it impaired my daily function, per se, and not one that would likely meet a clinical threshold but one where I was sadder than usual and felt despairing, disconnected and out of focus.  I went about my business - work, kid schlepping, home-making, being a spouse/friend/daughter/sister but I didn't feel much joy and I found it exceedingly difficult to remain fully present in...anything.

I am, by nature, a bit of a malcontent. 

In general, I find that part of my being to be an asset.

It serves me well in thinking outside the box and pursuing new endeavors, being open to perspective, or looking for ways to increase efficiency and creativity.  I like holding myself accountable to the patterns of life - to be mindful and remain attentive to possibilities for improvement/adjustment.  

But when it spins me into a funk, it crosses into a realm of liability.

My Dad, a massage therapist, specializes in what he calls "functional touch."

It is a slow, intentional, persistent, mindful approach to body work.

He spends hours working with the deepest set patterns in our bodies - attending to the tissue that has been forgotten, twisted, deadened, and deprived of circulation.  

The process to restore a body's tissue to health can be long, it can sometimes feel worse as you go about it, and demands your attention.

As I rolled off his table last week, I thought about how the narrative of my funk could be more functional than despairing.  How the ebb and flow of life is like our tissue - 

deeply set into patterns {likely established before our conscious thought} about which we remain fairly oblivious until/unless there is a problem {pain, discomfort, dis-ability}.

On the other side of my funk, I am able to see how it was restorative. 

I feel more resilient to the wonky-ness life is throwing my way.

I feel more attentive to life's priorities and feel better equipped to handle competing demands.

I feel as though I have greater clarity.

I feel more alive.

hold you stuck

just over a year ago, our youngest transitioned out of his crib.

we immediately regretted it.

there are few things as frustrating as a child who rebounds out of his bed.

100 bazillion times. 

we exhausted all the strategies.  

we took turns. we were nice. we were consistent. we were creative. 

we almost transitioned him back to a crib. 

but that boy, he is nothing if not determined so every night was a long, ridiculous ordeal.

one night, i traveled to my wits' end and crawled into bed with him.

i placed his legs in between my thighs, crossed my ankles, and enveloped his little torso with one hand free so he could suck his thumb.

yep, that is right folks, i restrained my kid.  

it was a soft restraint but a restraint nonetheless.

as his giggles turned to defeated cries and he pushed against my embrace, i questioned myself 

i am pretty sure this is not a strategy for the annals of parenting awesome-ness {just sayin'}

all of a sudden, his body went slack.  he stuck his thumb in his mouth and pulled his other arm free to place down the front of his jammies into the crook of his armpit.

he turned into me...and fell asleep.

in the days and weeks that followed, the bedtime dance became more predictable and less frustrating   we restrained him less and less, until it became a distant memory.

but this past week, as i snuggled next to him at bedtime, he surprised me with:

Mommy, i want 'hold you stuck.' 

he then proceeded to place his legs in between my thighs and wrap my arm around his torso.
he sucked his thumb and placed the other hand down the front of his jammies into the crook of his armpit and snuggled close.

Ishme {I asked} why do you want me to hold you stuck?

"Because I safe."

I pulled him tight and kissed his little head.  Yes, bubba, you are safe.

"Thank you, Mommy. I lovah you."

And I know that feeling - I still encounter it as a grown-up:

Sometimes we need a little "hold you stuck" in our lives.

In the hustle and bustle of everyday life and routine, it serves as a reminder that we are safe. 

We are not alone.

We are loved. We are going to be okay.

a good kind of peer pressure

After 8.75 years of sucking his thumb, our son quit.

I think this as a huge milestone.

Quitting the thumb took me over a decade. 

{No joke} 

There may or may not have been a day in high school when I locked myself into a bathroom stall and...

My parents {even my sisters} employed many strategies to help me quit:

finger condoms, "consequences," tall tales of thumb-sucking horrors, and stomach-lurching concoctions

But our son needed none of those things.

He just decided to quit.

{because}

One month ago, he went to the dentist to have his teeth cleaned.

His mouth is quite a fright {orthodontically speaking} and the dentist reminded me that we will need to start thinking about an orthodontic plan soon.

You mean, I will need to get braces? our son asked.

Yup, I said, expecting to hear anxious grumbling.

Instead, I heard "AWESOME!" as he offered his dentist a high five.

Kind of stunned, I replied "Well, we won't be doing braces until you stop sucking your thumb."

He was quiet for a moment and then tells me he is going to make a plan for when he will stop sucking his thumb, "but are you sure I can't have braces at the same time?"

We discussed braces and thumb-sucking all the way home, a commute during which I learned that all of his peers are getting braces and he "definitely need[s] them which is good because...they are cool!"

Hmmm, braces are cool?!!?

Well, that was certainly not my take on the issue but thanks to his peers,

our son decided {that night} to stop sucking his thumb.  

As in, done.

Just like that.

Last night I told him how impressed I was with his accomplishment.

He patted my face and replied, 

"Mama, I told you I would quit when I was ready."

election reflection: dinosaur opposites

this year's election felt like a big deal to me. 

i could hardly wait to get to the polls on election day.

i still remember it was an election year when i turned 18...and i didn't vote.

and 4 years later...i still didn't vote.

at the time, it didn't seem like a big deal.

at the time, it didn't seem like my vote mattered.

at the time, i wasn't really paying attention.

but somewhere in the process of growing into myself, i started to pay attention and i started to care.

i started paying more taxes

i started working more closely with folks who were "other"

i started to understand public/social policy outside the lens of religious and peer bias.

i started feeling more uncomfortable with my ignorance

{it was not bliss after all}

however, paying attention and caring brought with it another kind of discomfort:

{not all people in my spheres are like-minded}

 in fact, a quick review of my facebook feed the day before the election illustrated that truth in spades.

 a truth i knew from years of discourse with family and friends but 

this year's election revealed our unlike-mindedness did not represent a spectrum of ideas 

{as i once believed}

rather, at a profoundly fundamental level, 

the people in my spheres are diametrically opposed in political & social opinion.

on one hand i have deep appreciation for this reality

on the other hand, these fundamentals were precisely why i felt this year's election was a big deal.

i went into election day feeling like it was a battle, one with very high stakes.

this year felt like a battle of the dinosaur opposites in my son's book-of-the-week

{big-small, weak-strong, good-bad}

and so, though i feel disappointment over

the country being taken into "battle;"

some of the decisions made by the current administration over the last 4 years;

the results of some proposals & races; and

the residual feelings of resignation, disgust, and frustration left in the election's wake,

i feel encouraged.

by what the results of the election represent: {a sense of progress}

a shift toward the margins, rather than further barricading the marginalized.

i feel relief.

that "some monster of American history...went into battle last night, and is presently limping away mortally wounded." 

{thank you Ta-Nehisi Coates}

i feel hopeful.

that our country will be able to mature past our tendency to maintain concrete dualities

and engage in conversations & policy development that honor the value of the both-and.

and i remain ever-hopeful that the timeless message of a children's book rings true:

whether big or small, there's a welcome for all!

things do not go as planned

i watched a man bleed to death the other day.

{strangely} 

it wasn't particularly gruesome or even dramatic in the way one might imagine.

everything had been reasonably contained and family was at bedside, holding his hand.

his last moments were humbling:

a medical team having to admit there was nothing more they could do

a family having to acknowledge it was time to say goodbye {we love you}

and a respectful quiet settling into a space that is otherwise bustling.

the patient's wife laid a final kiss on his cheek, squeezed his hand, and stood up

she inhaled deeply, with eyes closed and walked away.

as i escorted her away from the bedside, she very quietly said:

"this is not what we'd planned to do today"

the words were so ordinary and yet, so extraordinary.

 

and so it is with life:death.

we plan our days and nights {often} without regard for the unexpected. 

but the unexpected comes, i have learned; 

it always does.

and it is remarkable to witness how

{in those moments}

people find the strength and courage

to make more plans.

{outside my window}

 

{outside my window}

it is a rainy and cool fall day.  the leaves are soggy and trampled.

but they glisten ever so slightly as the sun tries to make an impression through the clouds

{i am thinking}

it is a great day to be alive. 

an elementary thought, for sure, but it was all that came into my mind as i sipped my coffee at the kitchen window

{i am thankful for}

my sister. it is her birthday today. i wonder what her day has in store?  i wonder if she will feel overwhelmed by the affection people feel towards her.  she is well loved.

{from the kitchen}

molasses cookie dough is chilling in the fridge.

it seems to be the perfect day for those. the oven is warming up and it is about to get delicious.

{i am going}

on a date tonight. 

we are trying a new place. i always worry that we will run out of things to say to each other {for real} but that has not happened yet. ever.

{around the house}

are piles and bins of things that need to be put away.  i think i would rather write letters.

{a message to my readers}

happy fall season to you and yours!

slowing it down

all my life i have taken comfort in the phrase "life is busy"

as though busy is something to be proud of

i mean, busy makes sense to me &

busy feels valuable and so

busy somehow became my antidote to boredom.

{you know that evil state-of-being from childhood}   

for better and worse, i have carried that value into my family life.

  

this summer"life is busy" started to feel like an albatross

something to be ashamed of

busy started to leave me feeling creaky in the mornings

busy began to feel like a sentence, less of a choice

busy left me feeling vulnerable

sure,

 i get lots done

{but there always seems to be a mountain of "to-do" left in its wake}

 we have fun in the moment 

{but the energy output often feels disproportionate to the the enjoyment derived}

i feel greater connection to the world around us

{but i've been feeling less connected to the "we" of my little family} 

so,

my husband and i decided to slow it down 

to be more intentional about how we spend our time and about our decisions for activities.

 and honestly, the result has been a mixed bag:

we cannot get away from some obligations to be busy 

{reality of working}

some folks reflect their disappointment

{"no" is hard} 

the requests and demands seem to be increasing as the littles get older.

but 

our boys don't seem to mind the added unfettered play time

we have time now in our "routine" to do things like read books together every night

or spend an afternoon pretending to be puppies

my husband and i get to eat dinner and talk and watch a show or listen to a podcast together after the boys go to bed instead of having to figure out a way to do those things all at once.

i don't creak as much in the morning when i wake up

i get to cook more and bake more

and we have been able to schedule regular massages with my dad instead of going from crisis to crisis

{it has only taken 6 years}

i have time to write a couple of letters

and sometimes 

i just sit with nothing to do

we talk more and rush less.

and

this season feels good.

 

part of me

"part of me wants to do all my ideas for today," he states, "and part of me just feels so tired."

this, our eldest's summation as he lies in bed surrounded by his stuffed animals, sucking his thumb, and completely covered in a blanket. i was lying next to him, debriefing his moments down in depths of despair from 20 minutes previous.

tonight

he had a difficult time going through his evening routine in a timely fashion.

he was easily distracted by everything.

he got lost in the bathtub, entertained for ages by the sound of water lapping at his ears.

it took him nearly an hour to meander back down the stairs to brush his teeth

and, once downstairs, he was

devastated to learn that so much time had lapsed, he would not have time to pick a show to watch.

we let him tantrum for a bit, after which he completed his night-time routine & crawled into bed. what he said makes so much sense;

his reflection of life's dualities felt at home in the core of my being.

we discussed how to manage those competing parts of ourselves 

&

the role of parents/adults to help kids confront the inevitable clash between desire and reality.

now, i sit here thinking

 about how the important conversations in life happen when you least expect them

and i am thankful

my first wedding

"Ever married two dudes before?" they asked as we sat down to plan the ceremony.

"Nope," I replied, refraining from disclosing further that I hadn't actually married anyone before.

"Well, it is an honor that you are willing to officiate our wedding."

{the honor is all mine, I think}

Today was their wedding.

The grooms were nervous and giddy as the guests arrived.

{i felt nervous as the guests arrived}

Officiating a wedding is kind of a big deal. Officiating a gay wedding feels like a really big deal.

I had spent a long time on the ceremony - getting the language right.

The couple had written their vows but did not have strong preferences on the other elements of the ceremony.

I suggested a reading from Plato. They loved it.

The guests arrived from near and far.
They gathered together just beyond the altar upon music's cue.
They whispered oohs and aahs during the processional.

The guests said "we will" when charged with supporting the couple in their marriage.

And they cried during the readings and the vows.

Everyone held their breath when I pronounced the couple as

Mister & Mister.

{no one knew I had been practicing that line all week - worried I would get it wrong}

I wish there was a way to capture the feeling of that moment when the grooms turned 

to face the guests, presented for the first time as a married couple.  

That one moment was so full of joy and affection for them.

As if they were being embraced from the outside in.

Congratulations you two!

May your joys be many and your sorrows few!

As I watched them recess back down the aisle as husbands
 -  ready to party with their family, friends, and co-workers -

It didn't feel like my first wedding.

All that worry

All those nerves

And in the end, I felt right at home.

intimidating quiet

this morning is the first in months that i am home. alone. 

without children or spouse. without a looming deadline. without a trip to plan. 

the quiet is intimidating.

i had my usual morning phone check-in with my partner.

he thought if i was in a 3-pane comic strip, my character would take a nap.

 it made me feel a little embarrassed

because that is exactly what i felt like doing...taking a nap.

but unlike the comic strip, he said, my nap would be well-deserved.

nice save. 

sort of.

 he is right, a nap would likely be legit

{this past week, for a lot of reasons, has not been stellar for sleeping}

but if i am honest with myself, 

a nap = a strategy to avoid confrontation with reality.

the quiet is intimidating 

because it demands i be present in reality.

so this morning i am going to take reality at MY pace.

i am going to sit, intimidated, for a moment

{let it wash over me}

and then i am going to take reality on

one thing at a time

until it is nap time.

yay - whaa - yay

Our son could not sleep the night before we departed on our cross-country road trip.

I asked him why he was having trouble and he told me he "just keeps feeling...yay - whaa - yay"

{yay}

we are headed on adventures 

{whaa}

we are missing out on things at home

like video games, soccer practice, and play dates

but 

{yay}

we are headed on adventures with friends and family we don't typically see

we are going to do things and eat foods and see places that are new and exciting

We are now in the middle of our road trip and his sentiment continues to resonate.

Everything is a little {yay}

&

Everything is a little {whaa} 

because time with good-for-the-soul family and friends is never enough

But mostly the {yay} wins out

july has gotten away from me

this month i started a number of posts and saved them as drafts.

they are not finishing themselves

and 

i have not found the space i need to finish them.

this season, life feels like it has rattled on like a freight train, leaving me gasping for breath.

i've tried to be intentional about filling any free spaces with contentment for staying in the moment and 

being present with the ones i love;

rather than getting lost in my internal pressure of the oughts and shoulds.

august is almost here and in one week i am taking a month of vacation.

i look forward to it, with flutters of anticipation and excitement.

a time to be with the ones i love and see the country.

a time to rattle on like a freight train, leaving life gasping for breath.

until then, be well.

love,

d

second chances

{thank you for giving me second chances}

for mother's day, my husband encouraged our oldest kiddo to write me some encouragements.

so he cut some strips of paper.

he wrote some "inkrigmints"

and then left them in my wallet to find later.

he left 4 notes.

they are little treasures i carry with me nearly 2 months later.

but the one about second chances stood out.

partly because his spelling is such a work-in-progress

but mostly because it feels raw and genuine 
{and took me by complete surprise}

this note highlights a part of our relationship that feels so tacit and subtle and yet, so significant.

i can't help but wonder what exactly he was thinking about when he wrote it.

but i smile hearing that he feels like he has space to totally mess things up in my presence and

he will still get a "do-over" and  

i will still love him.

always

life should be...

"Life should always be abundantly joyful and effortless"

I saw this on a sign outside a local chiropractor's office.

I think it is supposed to be read as encouragement.

But I keep getting stuck on the "should be" and the hyperbolic nature of the sign.

I mean, I do believe one should certainly be on the look-out for the moments in life which are abundantly joyful and/or effortless.

But if life were always those things, how would we recognize those truly spectacular moments?

 {those moments that leave us in awe of this world, the people around us, and the promise of richness to come}

How are we to make sense of the abundantly gritty, effort-full, deeply sad, or confusing moments?

Obviously, I keep getting stuck on the realities of life.

Life is:

sometimes abundantly joyful

and sometimes effortless

{but}

Much of the time, it is a lot of hard work and we have a hard time finding the joy.

So I have revised the saying in my mind to read:

Life should always be open to find abundant joy in our effort.

a loaf of bread

last night my husband made an extra batch of dough.

to rise overnight and bake for some friends.

tonight, with the kids in their jammies, we set off to deliver a warm loaf of bread.

our oldest kept asking "why are we even doing this?"

because

it feels good to complete random acts of kindness for friends.

&

a warm, fresh loaf of delicious bread is nearly always a welcome treat.

today

{Outside my window...}

it is getting ready to storm. I am perched on the back of the couch alongside our 2 year old, watching a construction crew frantically trying to get in as much work as possible before the rain comes.

{I am thinking...}

about how lovely it would be to have a Memorial Day 2012 reprise - complete with family snuggles in the hammock, sprinkler play, cold beer, and dinner beneath the newly strung lights on the back patio.

{I am thankful for...}

a good night's sleep next to my love

{I am wearing...}

a plum skirt and neon green shirt.

i think they go well together but i can't be certain so i felt a little self-conscious when dropping kiddo #1 at school

{I am creating...}

space in the basement to hang a bike, piles and piles of laundry,  a birthday dinner menu

{I am going...}

to finish my coffee before it gets cold. 

I am trying to stay in the present today - a task that is very difficult for me to do

{I am hoping...}

for many things - the list feels all a-jumble at the moment

{I am hearing...}

birds tweeting amidst the whirring-beeping-clanking of bulldozers, the squishy click of a nearby thumb-sucker, and a neighbor's lawnmower

{A few of my favorite things...}

freshly cut grass, a thunderstorm, time with family, learning new things, clean dishes, the scent of a freshly bathed child, anticipation for upcoming adventures,  riding a bike, and 

hand-picked strawberries

parallel play isn't just for kids

to say the last couple months have been crazy-pants for our household is a mild description.

we have purchased groceries that remain rotten in our refrigerator.

we have gone days without seeing each other for more than 15 minutes.

our eldest has stated they have had a babysitter or been without "mama snuggles...way too much" and

my husband has rented videos from the library - most of which have had to be returned. 

unwatched.

so tonight, when we have "nothing" to do, i suggest we watch a movie together.

then 2 hours later i took my suggestion back.  

indian giver.

the kids are in bed. 

we finished dinner together outside on the patio.

and now i just want to sit close and "do other stuff."

i feel conflicted with wanting to spend time together - engaging in something together and 

trying to capitalize on the quiet time to get through some other tasks on my "want to do" list:

write.

read.

watch trashy t.v.

listen to music.

drink wine.

stare into space with my feet on the coffee table.

the end result:

wine and feet are on the coffee table.

our legs are touching and his hand intermittently rubs my back.

he is playing a video game while i tinker on the computer.

what women want

here is the deal: 

in honor of mother's day, partners are asking, kids are creating, and retailers are directing what women want

but i don't {often} see women weighing in on their desires and preferences.

maybe we don't want to seem needy or greedy or bossy or...

maybe we are too busy to put it out there so i have decided to do it - for the greater good.

{affirmation}

every woman likes to hear she is wonderful.  

not just the statement of fact, but why you think she is so great. 

because these are the details that help us get through those dark moments in our heads, where we are convinced that we are failing at some or all aspects of life.  

be generous with your affirmations and be specific. you don't have to blow your wad all at once, consider leaving or offering single affirmations about the day {or week or month or year...}

{gratitude}

every woman likes to hear she is appreciated.

not just the statement of fact, but why you appreciate her.  

because these are the details that help us continue to give and give and give and give, beyond the point of exhaustion and resentment {yes, resentment}.  be generous with your gratitude and be specific.  like affirmation, you don't have to worry about going over the top with gratitude (unless you aren't being genuine and intentional with it); consider extending gratitude throughout the day.

{time}

every woman likes to have a little time to herself.

time that is unfettered by the "need to's" and "should do's" of life.  

time to sit and do nothing but read a novel, watch t.v, wander the mall, sit in a coffee shop with our favorite beverage, hang with a friend and not worry about naps or dinner, take a nap, or have a pedicure. {please note: this list is not all inclusive} we don't want to have to ask for it. we don't want to have to justify it. we don't want to have to account for what we will do with it. and we don't want to feel bad about taking it. maybe the time can't happen on mother's day so consider looking through your busy schedules and see if you can find a solid chunk of time you can freely and graciously offer the woman in your life.

{service}

every woman likes to have things done with her in mind.

we do a lot in a day. some of it is obvious and noticeable. some of it is done so tacitly, it doesn't even strike you as an item on the to-do list. i guarantee our list(s) are long and we never feel like there are enough hours in the day {or week or month or year} to accomplish what we want/need to do. 

consider what is on the plate of the woman in your life and see about picking up laundry, cleaning bathrooms, washing floors, planting a garden, pulling weeds, dusting, or organizing the kids' outgrown clothes, managing the family calendar or finances, or keeping a vase filled with flowers. {again, this list is not all inclusive} 

and remember, service is something you can spread over time, rather than relegating it to one day.

{things}

every woman likes to receive gifts.  gifts of value...or not.  

the key to giving a gift is to gift something that demonstrates you know her.  

(if you don't feel like this is your strength, ask a confidant in her life). 

maybe she has been dropping hints or maybe not, but whatever you gift consider who she is, what she believes in or values, how she likes to spend her time, things that drive her bonkers, and ways she feels loved.  consider a "frivolous" magazine, a gift card to a favorite place, a new item for the kitchen or home, a book or album, a pedicure or massage, an article of clothing, or some bling.  

be creative, but whatever you do - don't gift something out of projection {with your likes in mind}...

go with empathy {what she wants/needs}.

keep in mind: things and time go well together.

listen, if you and your kiddo(s) are able to construct a mother's day {or any day, really} keeping these five themes in mind, you will be offering a woman what she wants. 

she will feel loved and appreciated and encouraged.

ladies, does this sound about right?