Dear Running, you are nothing but a pain in the meniscus.

When you are feeling broke, everyone else is getting promoted or going on vacation.

When you are watching what you eat, the rest of the world starts baking and indulging. 

When you are lonely and single, everywhere you look you see sickeningly happy couples. 

When you give up caffeine, every parent is sporting a starbucks cup at after school pick up. 

When your child throws an ugly fit in the library, you are surrounded by smiling, whispering, children.  

When you injure your knee in January, the entire planet decides that February and March are for running.  

It has been decided that these months are for running, happy running.  Not the type that leaves you scowling in the rain checking your time every 3 minutes.  Rather lovely, endorphin filled running that leaves you in love with life.  I want to be filled with endorphins, flying around the city.  Alas, I am walking dogs and trying to ignore the dull ache in me right knee.

I don’t know how this happened.  Maybe it was running, maybe it was another fitness adventure.  Blooming with the new year, a dull pain emerged in my outer right knee.  Naturally, I ignored it and relied on my bodies super healing powers to take over.  That didn’t work, so started icing after working it.  But, the irritation became mild pain.  Once I started (lightly) training for a ½ marathon at the end of January, it stubbornly dug in it’s heals.  I dug in mine too.  Knee postured. I stuck out my tounge.  Jab-cross-jab-hook-strike. OUCH!!!  

Post runs left me unable to walk down stairs with out clutching the side of the walls.  I couldn’t cross my legs when seated with out irritation.  Going from seated to standing was reminiscent of my arthritic grandfather rocking out of his armchair.  My knee threw up it’s arms in victory and started singing that horrible “We are the Champions” song by Queen.  I gave it a raspberry and put up my feet.

I woke up with remorse for my poor behavior.  But, it was too late.  Knee was giving me the silent treatment.  I think that I went too far this time.  I am not sure that we can ever trust each other the way we used too.  My doctor says that knee's affliction is an irritated meniscus.   It’s probably not a tear, but it won’t heal without rest.  In fact, it will get worse without rest.  Just to be sure I tested that out a couple of times.  He was right, athletic impact made it worse.  It has been over 4 weeks of nothing but yoga and other low impact activities, and still my meniscus is holding a grudge. 

Last week I celebrated my thirty-seventh birthday.    I think I have finally learned a lesson that I should have learned at twenty-one.  I’m NOT invincible.  Hurt happens, injuries happen, disappointment happens.  My body will age.    I hope to repair the damage I have done.  I suppose that leaves me to wait and listen.

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.  

I love house work, and I don't are if that makes boring.

Today is the last Tuesday and, thus, free morning before the end the the year.  I probably should mail some gifts at the post office or run some other errands child free.  But, I chose to clean.  Not because my house is a disaster, or I have anyone but my family entering it in the near future.  I just love a clean house.  I even like the act of cleaning.

I don't think it is because I am crazy.  It isn't because I have no interests.  Rather, being a visual person, it makes me very happy when things are tidy and in order.  Just as it bothers me to the core when my middle wears his skull cap on top of his hood, or when my husband calls navy "green" and pairs it with black, things need to flow for me visually.  I spend a good part of my day at home and I like it to make sense and be in order.

To be more poetic and less odd, I also like what the act of caring for my house symbolizes for my family.  I like giving the gift of order to them.  I am happy to create an environment where things make sense, visually or otherwise.  The world is unpredictable and refuses to be constrained by order.  In my home, I like to take a break from that chaos.  So, clean on I will.

How do you view house work?  With dread or delight?

Mondays are pretty great...or are they?

I am probably in the minority, but some weeks I really love Monday mornings.   Sometimes, it’s hard saying goodbye to the weekend and getting back into work-activity-school-mode.  Other times, I am just reminded how good I have it.  While John was up and out on his 45 minute commute by 5AM, I find myself at home.  Here I am In a quiet house, by the fire,  lounging with my dogs.  Not a bad way to start the week! Yes, things will explode into aliveness at any moment.  Child wake-up to school drop off time is a challenge.  But, 2/3 of my kids are dropped off for 6 hour each day!  Leaving me with time to go to boxing class,  run an errand or two, do some art with Liam, and (hopefully) enjoy a quiet house during his afternoon nap.  I won’t get into the complexities of the after school hours.  Why ruin a good story?

The weekend was pretty great too.  All three children spent Saturday afternoon in the theater with their grandparents while John and I stayed home…alone!  How often does that happen?  Pretty much....never.  Sunday, we skipped church and spent the day together.  A lazy brunch, a trip to the gym for a workout , family basketball (you guessed it, I was a star), and swimming.  Then home for some Christmas Crafting.

First, a rustic Christmas Wreath made with Liam.  We used last years wreath frame (thank you, John for saving everything to a fault), and greens from our yard.  Created with leland cypress, mock orange and something things that I don’t know the names of and tied together with twine.  Tada!  Free holiday wreath.

I love using the word "rustic" in place of "scrappy

Next, Amelia and I worked on creating woven headbands out of an old tee shirt.  Another free craft - yipee!  Amelia is working on ideas for Christmas gifts.  So act suprised if you are on her list.  She made hers herself.  I made one too, but how can I post a picture of my baby hair next to Amelia's amazing lion mane?  The boys decided they were basketball sweat band.  As you can see, they also decided that they were hilarious.

Who wore it best?

Good food, family, a workout, and crafting.  It may have been the perfect day.  Thinking about the weekend, my Monday doesn't seem so wonderful as it did a few minutes ago.  Time for some coffee to rearrange my view.....

What is your favorite way to spend a Sunday?

Why I am saying goodbye to my adventures with Kindermusik

I have been thinking about writing this post for a few weeks now.  In fact, I think a good reason to why there has been tumbleweed blowing around my blog is because I couldn't bring myself to do it.  While I have made my official "this will be my last semester announcements" to my classes, my family, my friends and St. Luke's, putting it in writing seems a lot more committal.  I suppose that is where the phrase "put it in writing" comes from.  It isn't so easy to do.  Over the past month, I have come to know well that the hardest decision are those that have you the most emotionally involved.  For me, my Kindermusik studio has always been about a lot more then teaching music.


I love teaching music!  I love each child that I have taught.  It has been a joy watching them come alive in song and dance.  It has been a priviledge watching the love in a parents eyes as they witness their child being moved to music, interacting with peers, or just doing something ridiculously adorable.  I love watching the St. Lukes Pre-K class share ideas musically.  Seeing friends dance and sing together is beautiful.  I adore knowing that a parent and child can come into my class and experience moments of tenderness and quite as they rock and snuggle to music.  


At this point you may be expecting the flip side, what I really hate about my teaching experience.  While every moment has not been perfect.  Most of my time in the classroom has felt pretty darn close.  I even enjoy the preparation.  Using my brain to communicate with parents and other grown-ups has been great.  There really aren't a whole lot of skunks in the yard.


To say that I have decided to stop teaching so that I have more time to spend with my family sounds like a really good answer.  Unfortunately, it would be a lie.  I love my family.  I also spend PLENTY of time with them.  I don't need more time to "get things done" around the house.  The truth is, I have been very efficient for the past five years.  I have managed to teach in the morning, spend time with my children, exercise the dogs, make a fresh healthy meal, make it to the gym and be in bed by 10PM all with a clean house.  There in lies my reason for closing my little Minuet Studio.  I have no time for nothing.  In reading this over, it sounds like a "it's hard being beautiful" kind of rant.  That is not my intention.  But rather, to make the point that striving to be a "super mom" can leave you feeling a little empty.  Even when, with practice, you have become pretty good at it.  There is a sacrifice.


When I speak of doing nothing, I don't mean "nothing" as in hanging around with my family with no where to be and nothing on my to-do list.  My "nothing" is all about me.  Be it selfish or not, I am ready to care for myself as a priority.  When I find free moments by myself, I have found that I'm pretty tapped out physically and creatively.  It has taken me 9 years of parenting to finally realize the depth into which I need my solitude.  While I may not come across this way while teaching, I am an introvert to the core.  I thoroughly love my time with students, friends and my family.  But, I NEED time by myself, lots of it.  If you are a parent or caregiver, you know how impossible this can be when you hold a loaded schedule.


For the past five years, my creativity has been devoted to my studio, and my children.  I am ready to revisit the aspects of my creativity that have been often dormant.  It doesn't mean that I will be creating masterpieces, or learning to play the trombone.  Rather, I am leaving space to create in whatever capacity I am drawn to each day.  Maybe in a meal for my husband, maybe in a short story, maybe in redecorating my laundry room.  It may not sound as interesting as running a small music business, but to me, right now, it sounds very luxurious.   


I recently spoke with Father Paul (of St. Luke's) about my plans to stop teaching.  In addition to his kindness and loving support he made a comment something like this:  "Many busy families find themselves spinning their wheels.  If you are able to take the time to keep the hearth fires going strong, what a difference you can make in your lives".    I have always seen this as important as it relates for my family.  I now see how important is is for me to keep the hearth fires in my own heart burning, and daily.

What fires would you like to rekindle?