I lied.

I didn't mean to, but I lied.  I lied thrice.

Lie #1
" I am a terrible sewer.  I am not a sewer.  It just wasn't meant to be" (July, 2011)

Here I am, six months later and totally committed to a massive undertaking.  I am in the process of planning, designing and SEWING a spring wardrobe for myself.  My machine is unpacked and I have staked out a nice little corner of our playroom for my mini studio.   I have started compiling designs and ideas into a design book and rekindling my love affair with fashion.  It turns out that it is as strong as ever.  It's probably a little stuck in 2000, but there none the less.


I am severely limited by funds.  Buying fabric and patterns is way more expensive then just buying the stinking garment.  Still...I have dreams that won't die.  In some cases, I will have to refashion thrifties and items that I already own.  But, recycling has it's merits too!


It turns out, I am not as horrible of a seamstress as my previous rants would lead you to believe.  Impatient? yes.  Over ambitious? yes.  Sloppy and rushed? YE-AH-SS!  Horrible?  Surprisingly.... no.


When I told my children about my crazy plan they were really encouraging.  Sometimes, I realize just how good I have it.  When I through out a seemingly unrealistic pipe dream at my kids, they always amazingly supportive.  I am so fortunate to have them as my sounding board.  At those times when I would kill to be having an adult conversation over breakfast rather then listen to random sports trivia that is being pelted at me like a paintball gun, I will remember this conversation.  Upon sharing my dreams to become a good seamstress.  Jack replied:  "Mommy, you ARE a good sewer.  Remember those pj's you made for us?  You can totally do it!"  Not a bad sounding board.

Lie # 2
"I'm kind of over running" (October, 2011)

Turns out I'm not.  In the past I have certainly been a "fair weather" runner.  Which, basically limits me to run between March and July, take a break in August and wrap up the year in September.  Our unseasonably warm winter break landed me back on the track and thinking about signing up for a race.  Oddly, the day after scouring the internet for the perfect race, a friend turned me on to an opportunity to run in the Seattle "Rock 'n' Roll" marathon while supporting a cause very dear to her heart and mine.  More on that to come......


I'm feeling good about completing the 13.1.  My fear is in finishing it s--u-p-e-r  s---l---o---w-----l-------y.  Like, you might as well have walked if you were going to clock in at that time.  So, my goal for now: focusing on my tempo runs while being very kind to myself.  More on that to come.....

Lie # 3
"I am leaving space to create in whatever capacity I am drawn to each day" (Dec. 2011)

Looks like that is going to be a bit hard to do as I sew and train while enjoying motherhood and wifedom.  I guess I will have to settle for being creative everyday without that freedom clause.  I kind of knew that this one was a lie.  But I did have good intentions.


I certainly won't be wishing the winter away this year.  I have a lot to get done before the Spring.

What are your passions this winter?

Gripping, loss and love.

December was an unusual month for me.  My world seamed to slowly tip on it’s axis while gently shaking me off to be at the mercy of the rest of the universe.  Although some of the changes were of my own doing, I still wrapped myself tightly around earth’s leg.  Like a mother to a toddler, she continued to shake me loose and gently back away.    

I gave up teaching for good last month.  Along with it, I gave up a major focus in my life.  I have opened up time, and space and creative energy for myself.  I have been terrified by the idea of adding anything back in.  The risk of, yet again, over scheduling myself and winding myself back up into claustrophobia has paralyzed me.  So, I am left with a space in my heart where music, children and teaching once sat.   I am clinging to this space.  Shake, shake.

At the end of the month, I had a wonderful week and a half with my children and husband at home.  We had time to spend together at our cabin in the woods and in our , more relaxed then normal, Tacoma home..  I woke up every morning to hot coffee, fed dogs and entertained children.  Totally amazing!  Still, I clung to the guilt of not being the wife and mother who wakes up and gets to work so that my husband can relax.   Basically, I couldn’t let go of how things normally are.  Shake, shake, shake.

I spent a lot of time focused on family this month too.  Yes, my life is always focused on family.  But, in December, that expanded beyond the nuclear.  We spent more time then usual with local family.  We also had visits from both my father and my mother and father in law.  Spending time with family is so dear.  I regret that all of my family is not in one place.  Nothing made this more clear then the sad passing of my lovely grandmother last week.  Here it is regret that I cling to.  The shaking continues,  and I tighten my grip.

As I write this, the Northen side my family is mourning the loss of my grandmother, Elvera.    A courageous, funny, lover of life, my grandmother will be dearly missed.  The mother of seven, this amazing woman lived a full life.  I did not know her well.  But, I am thankful for the time that I did get to spend with her.  In reflecting on her life, I see that her greatest gift to me is her example strength and playfulness. 

I was fortunate enough to visit my grandma in California when on a road trip a several years back with John Amelia, and Jack.  In her 80’s she was still full of life, love and strength.  The life that she lived was frequently visited by hardship.  Yet, when I see her in my minds eye, that is not what I see in her.  I see the face a women who knew joy and love.  Who, upon meeting her great grandchildren for the first time, loved them richly and playfully. 

I am at a loss for a really great way to wrap this up.  I suppose it is because we do not wrap up ones life with a ceremony alone.  Closure doesn’t come.  And, it shouldn’t.  I may not have known my grandmother as well as I would have liked, but she will always be a part of me.  She will always shine in my children.  Now that she has passed, I will look for her in their movements and in their laughter.  I will look for her strength in my own times of challenge.  I am inspired to do the same for the rest of my family.  When Jack raises his brows, just so, to momentarily become my father; hearing Liam yell “fooey!” in the voice of his grandmom Cotter; when Amelia escapes to her room to jump into a book as my grandmother Schroeder would have done, we are reunited.  They are there with us, if just for one sweet moment.  If I cling to the traditional concepts of being close to family, I lose.  But, if I unclench my hands and see that they are with us daily in so many ways I am shaken free.  Free to celebrate them, passed or living, near or far.