How long do you pretend to be something until you actually are?

I, like countless millions of others, have a really nice camera.

Really nice cameras seem to be popular these days.

I like to take pictures with my camera.

I take a LOT of pictures with it. 

I really LIKE to take pictures with my camera. 

And I know that a lot of people really like to take pictures. 

I would not declare that I am a photographer, only sometimes I am. Am I really good? No probably not. Do I have a TON to learn? Absolutely. Do I love it? Yes yes yes. And just as much as the actual photo taking what I really truly love is the editing. I love trying to figure out how to make a picture "pop". I love trying to find the balance between too much editing and just right. This seems to be a skill that definitely gets better with practice.

I've had some friends ask me to take their pictures lately for special events. This I find hugely flattering. Of course I offered my services for free, because I'm too new at this to think I could actually charge for pretending to be something. 

So when does the pretending end? When are you allowed to declare that you are something? 

I'm not ready to declare that I'm a photographer. I feel that it somehow negates the hard work that actual photographers do. But I'm trying on the hat. It feels fun on my head.

Anyway, here are some of my pics from a photo shoot I did for my friend Sarah this weekend. I'd love to hear what you think!

weekend wrapup

What I did this weekend.
by Summer N.

1. I made a raw dinner with my friend Annie.
2. I went for a hike.
3. I ate no processed sugar.

4. I went to a house party.

5. I watched a movie.

6. I unpeeled about a thousand stickers from the floor (ok maybe like a dozen)

7, I did the running man.
8. I watched Dora in the bathroom while my daughter pooped for an hour

9. I took photos of a friend and her son.

10. I fell off a piano in a freak planking accident.

Pretty fall hike in Golden, CO via phone camera.

I was on the ground right about 1 second after someone took this pic. Awesome.

Fashion friday, sweat and tears and all

Now that my daughter is getting older and way WAY more verbal, she likes to make it very clear that she wants to make the decisions regarding anything that has to do with her. Which is why my fashion friday posts have not been as consistent. If I could convey how much ENERGY goes into one photo shoot then you would totally understand. That being said, I managed to get today's outfit on her. I did not manage to get a single smile for the camera, but that's okay kid, I'll take it.

Not having it.

In other news, this is my second day of no sugar. The depths of my sugar addiction have become too glaring for me to ignore. It's gotten to the point where I have been "requiring" sugar every day just to keep from feeling like shit. And I just don't think that's right. So I've gone cold turkey, and no this isn't a forever thing, but I'm trying to give it a good amount of time so I can retrain my brain and hopefully make it not taste so WONDERFUL. Wonderful and evil if you ask me. 

Today I had a PLAIN latte and it was actually totally awesome. 

(Operation caffeine will have to be another lifetime day.)

Dress: Corky's kids

Shirt: Target

Tights: thrift store

Legwarmers: Zoots

Boots: Osh Kosh

Out of the fog

Starting on the day after my marathon and up to about yesterdayish, I developed some sort of bronchitis or pneumonia and was a total mess. I would shiver incessantly, sleep like crazy, and had a deep tightness in my chest that went way too far down. It was awful and I can honestly say that for me, it was as if this past week never even existed. It was a blur, all of it. It resulted in a successful round of antibiotics, three missed days from work, TONS of coughing, and LOTS and lots of sleep.

Today when I woke up I actually felt good. And guys, that feeling, the feeling of NOT feeling sick, took on a whole new meaning. If you have your health, you have everything. Take that away and life becomes so hard.

Unfortunately the sickness, in a very muted version (thank God) hit Ellie and she has been sniffling and coughing. And what happens to Ellie when she feels sick? She becomes a total and absolute GRUMP! Her amazing ability to NOT be happy with literally every option presented to her is dumbfounding. It would astound any childless adult how something as simple as drinking milk can turn into a complex game of compromise and choices. "Ellie you can have this cup or this cup". "NOOO, I WANT THE OTHER CUP! Ok let me pour the milk. "NO, I WANT TO POUR IT!!". No Ellie Mommy will pour it. Do you want me to bring it into the living room? "NO! I WANT TO HOLD IT!!!! Okay, do you want a straw or no straw?" "NO STRAW!!!" Ok.  "I WANT A STRAW!!!! I set it down. "NO PUT MILK THERE!!!!! I WANT JUICE!!!!!" I can honestly say for the first time I UNDERSTAND why parents let their kids go to public places like restaurants and the mall in their pajamas. I never got it before but man do I get it now.

In other news:

I've gotten Invisaligned!! Yes I'm 34 and finally straightening these teeth of mine but at least they are not metal and no headgear is involved. Instead I had these "tooth colored buttons" adhered on several teeth and a series of trays that must be worn until the straightening process is over, a mere TWO YEARS from now. They are not so bad really except when I'm not wearing my trays and my new teeth warts stab me in the lip from the inside. I'm convinced it's some sort of twisted orthodontical trick to make sure you wear your new gear. 

We harvested our garden! True to form my gardening thumb goes from bright green in spring to a putrid yellow color come fall. Translated: my garden, though once revered in my eyes to be the marvel of the neighborhood, sucks. We got a bunch of scrawny beets and scrawny carrots. And one onion. Oh yeah and a couple of  half cucumbers that we accidentally pulled. I guess it was the whole not watering thing that did it in. I hate when that happens.

So what do you do with a bunch of beets? Duh, you make borscht! Which is what we did today. Does anyone want some? No seriously, we have a shitload of borscht. Enough borscht to make you burst. Which reminds me....

Upon eating a shitload of borscht remind yourself as you go to the bathroom that you are not bleeding internally. It's the borscht. It's only the borscht. 

Back at it!

Fist pumping our victories!

I have to say that one of the more proud moments of my life was running through the streets of Denver with my little brother for the Rock-n-Roll half marathon yesterday. My brother only started running last year but he is crazy into it. He's happier, he's lost 50lbs, he looks awesome! I thought he was going to kick my butt but I managed to stick with him for 9 miles until I just couldn't keep up with his pace. God knows I wanted to but my legs physically would not move faster.

I finished the race in 2:22. It's faster than I thought I'd be but definitely room for improvement. But as my little bro said as we were climbing up 17th street, "I can see these marathons being addictive". It's such a wonderful feeling running, pushing yourself, being cheered on, accomplishing goals. Man it was fun!

But hoo boy am I sore today!!!

Waiting to start. It was about 38 degrees. 

Little pit stop at mile 10 to hug my little girl.

The city was basically shut down yesterday morning so 15,000 runners could do their thing on the streets of Denver. Sign me up for next year!!!

Kitten riding

In just 5 short days my brother and I are going to be riding in the Denver Kitten Riding Half Marathon!!! Meow!!!

Wha? Do you think we would be disqualified if we showed up with monster sized kitties? Perhaps, but since this was posted to my facebook page I thought I'd use it. The truth is, this kind of thing is EXACTLY why I love my brother so much. We have this very unique, known-you-since-birth kind of humor that, when together, I think confuses people. It can get wierd.

Adam's never been to Denver before. And me, well I've never actually run a race with a family member and this makes me VERY proud and excited. I'm also kind of nervous. Not about the family member part, but I guess about the agonizing lactic acid that seems to accumulate in massive quantities from my knees down.

KITTENS!!!

The oh so big thing in our lives.

There has been a really big thing that has been happening in my family. I have wanted to write about it for so long, to put it out there into the world. Wanting to know DOES ANYONE HAVE A CLUE WHAT THIS IS ALL ABOUT? Because let me tell you it has been intense, and continues to be. And none of us really has any idea of what we are doing.

You see, one of my family members is sick, really sick. For the sake of privacy I have not mentioned anything. But now we are so deeply ingrained in this sickness. There is no need to hide it. There is no need to feel shame in it. It just is and continues to be. I have received the blessings from my family to finally talk about it. Now I get to share this story, and please, if you have a story to share, please contact me. I feel like there is so much I want to ask you.

This person is my sister in law.

Kelly is a healthy, beautiful 43 year old woman. She has 4 beautiful children. Coming into this family I have viewed her as a kind of matriarch. Her mom (and my husband's) is no longer alive, and Kelly has always been such a seasoned mother. She'd call my husband all the time to check in, always ending the conversation with "I love you". Her heart is very, very good.

About a year and a half ago we started noticing that she was acting "strangely". She became socially awkward, in a way that we didn't understand. We didn't mention it to each other for awhile; it was just a subtle awkwardness. It was her lingering answers. Talking about a conversation that happened 10 minutes ago. A sort of obliviousness to the natural flow of conversation.

It kept getting worse. Eventually we started talking. "What's up with Kelly?" No one knew. She started acting stranger and stranger. She started making up stories, telling us bold faced lies that we all knew were not true. She was seeing and believing in things that weren't happening. It started getting scary. 

This is a strange situation to be in. We confronted her as a family. "Kelly, we think you need help". She would respond by changing the subject by telling an unrelated story. It continued to get worse. She became so "checked out" that you couldn't even have a reasonable conversation with her. We became desperate, really and truly having absolutely no idea what to do. She finally agreed to go to a psychiatrist.

Upon meeting Kelly the psychiatrist recommended that Kelly go to an inpatient psychiatric unit. So she did. She was there for several months and all she got was worse. And more worse. She started looking different. She would look at you with either a blank stare or total confusion. She showed no emotion whatsoever except when she would cry. Her body would shake. She was drifting so terribly far away from us and no one knew where she was going. Not even the doctors. She tried a multitude of medications and therapies, all to no avail. Eventually they said there just wasn't anything they could do for her. And this was a terrifying thing to hear.

She came home as a deeply sick woman. She wasn't able to take care of herself. She would wander. She couldn't be alone. Yet coexisting with her were her 7 year old daughter and her husband, both of them desperate for answers. Both of them desperate to have their wife and mom back.

Eventually her behaviors got her into a medical hospital and it was there that the picture began to make sense. At University of CO Hospital she received x-rays, CT scans, an MRI, blood work. A picture began to form. It explained to us how the beautiful, loving, smart mom and woman that we all knew and loved had changed into someone so sick. How she changed so dramatically in less than two years. 

Kelly, my 43 year old sister law and mother of four, has frontotemporal dementia.

Dementia.

At an alarming speed the cells in her brain were dying. This was on one hand relieving to GET A FRIGGING ANSWER and yet the most heartbreaking scenario that we could imagine. She was, and is, dying. Her brain is getting sicker and sicker, and YET, her body continues to be healthy, to be young. 

There is so much I want to say on this subject. I feel like I could type endlessly about grief. About frustrations with long term care placement. About Medicaid. About family dynamics. About loss. About being really fucking pissed off. About being really fucking sad. About having no control. About how to support each other. About what this is doing to Kelly's husband and her children . About losing somebody that is actually still right here with us. About how unbelievably expensive dementia facilities are.  How scared I am that there is a gene for this running in my daughter and my husband's DNA. How UNFAIR it is that someone in the prime of their life has to go through this.

We are learning so much but I will say that ultimately, this is a disease that does not have a lot of community support or information. You just don't expect to get something like this. You just don't.

I want to end this post by mentioning my brother in law, Rick (Kelly's husband). This is a man that literally had his world crash down on him, who day after day gets up, brushes himself off, and takes care of his wife and daughter (Kelly's other children of a previous marriage do not live with her.) Words can not possibly convey the work that he experiences with his job, his new role of being a father AND a mother, and the new "child" that is his wife, who constantly needs redirection and safety. Not to mention the forms, the guardianship, the long term care applications and a myriad of other things that frankly any young reader should and probably has no clue about. Yet despite all the trials he continues to be the strongest soldier in fighting for his family, and it is a constant battle. He does it because he must, but the quality about him that I most respect and admire, is his devout love for his wife. His sick, sick wife who only partly resembles the woman he married. His love has been profound and when I think about it I very clearly see how beautiful and heartbreaking, love can be. 

Love is about being present. When you have dementia, you lose your memories. Your future is uncertain. The mere ability to communicate overwhelms you. Being present is all that you have. Being present with her is the best that we can give. We are learning how to do this.

creating nostalgia (damn it!)

Every year we go to Nederland, CO for our Super Pretty Fall Foliage Day. 

This is a day, and a tradition, that I have created and declared. 

We've gone four years in a row, which makes me now able to say "every year".

Mike doesn't have the same drive to ensure we get to Nederland each September. He takes a bit of prodding and negotiating with. Fortunately my own motivations trump lazy-husband-who-could-give-two-shits. And might I add consequently-always-has-a-kick-ass-time-and-will-probably-thank-me-in-years-to-come. Eh hem. 

Super Pretty Fall Foliage Day!!! 

After all, we are the makers of tradition now. And frankly, I don't EVER want to miss out on this beauty.

I hope that many years from now my daughter will take her daughter to Nederland every year for their own Super Pretty Fall Foliage day.

I hope when she sees the golden hue of aspens her mind automatically reels back to her memories of Nederland; her frolicking years of Super Pretty Fall Foliage Days.

Won't that make her old mama proud.

Just look at that man having the time of his life. Psshaw.

Holy crap it's friday!

This week has been full of active brains, tired legs, and busy schedules. But like I've always said, the rest will never be as sweet as after the work.

Happy weekend everyone! Go and get your FALL on!

Pants: Tea Collection
Shirt: Amy Tangerine
Hat: Vendor at Telluride Bluegrass Festival
Shoes: Teva

To my daughter...

Sweet Eleanor,
You, your light. Your sweet temperment. Your heart warming smile. Your infectious joy. There are so many gifts you already bestow in this world. Thank you for them. For you.

Thank you for blessing me with the awareness of unconditional love.

I have seen a lot of really gut wrenchingly sad things lately, and thankfully they have not landed on THIS HOUSE. But they make me think. They make me aware that this thing called LIFE is fleeting, that all things that are loved will one day be gone. They make me aware that on the other side of  joy is pain. Aware that  the greater the LOVE, the greater the loss. Aware that in a second anything and everything could change.

But we take the risk. We make ourselves vulnerable to having our hearts so open. That, to me, is what makes love scary; never knowing.

But what I DO KNOW is this: You are here with me NOW. Your daddy is here with me NOW. Together we LAUGH, and we LOVE. Together our family is perfect. And right now, we have that.

And so, from the very depths of my heart and soul, I am grateful for this. I am grateful for you. I am grateful for my family.

I carry my gratitude with me always. Even when you are having a tantrum for a "LOLLIPOP!". Even when you are BEGGING me to pick you up. Every time I wrap my arms around you I am reminded of my gratitude.

Do not think for a second that I mind when you want me to crawl in bed with you to help you sleep. I love laying there smelling your hair, feeling your sweet little chest rise and fall, rise and fall, rise and fall. And in the middle of the night when you open your door and I hear your little feet come running through the house, coming to crawl into bed with us, I admit that I get happy. I like feeling you beside me, watching you breathe. I love having the two most important people in the whole world laying in bed with me. It's those moments when we're all curled up in bed together that I feel the most safe.

You will learn that there are SOME moments, that you never, ever want to let go of.

I love you with all that I am.

Mommy

I am SUCH a rockstar.

So, I went out tonight. Me and my good friend Darci won Rockies tickets, the real executive treatment kind with a suite and free food and drinks and a name tag where I got to mingle with other Denver hospice community folks. Which I actually didn't realize until the last minute that this whole thing was kind of "work related" but whatevs, I had my buddy.

And so we were OUT. Mike dropped us off downtown and I think we were both kind of mesmerized by the fact that we NEVER go out anymore, downtown anyway, and woo boy what a treat it was. Skyscrapers! Tons of people! Homeless! Look out world we were rearin to go! 

So we noshed. We mingled. The Rockies were getting crushed but honestly, there was a game? Okay, eventually we pulled our talkative behinds away from the free mini bar and buffet table and decided to watch. And then, we just sort of started sinking into our chairs. We started showing people pictures of our kids. (yeah we did that). We started talking with our co workers about work. And then we both sort of looked at each other and said "I'm ready to go when you are". 

It was 8:30. 

So anyway as we sat in our cab heading home we both realized we were at a crossroads. We could go head to some bar somewhere, spend money, probably wake up with a headache and have to take care of our kids (both our husbands are gone tomorrow). Instead I walked into my front door at 9pm, slightly buzzed and wide awake. I folded laundry so I woudn't have to do it in the morning. I wished there was SOMETHING good on tv. 

That's when Mike said "hey did you see that ice cream that I bought for you?"

Um, NO. (!!!)

Sea Salt carmel truffle. 

Best. Night. Ever.

crappy phone picture, GREAT seats!

party on, Wayne!

health and safety health and safety health and safety fashion friday health and safety

I have always had a sort of psychological mantra that I would chant as a kid. I'm actually kind of embarrassed by it now because it was VERY CHRISTIAN, (not that very christian is bad, but it's just not me now). Something like "please forgive me sweet Jesus" and I would say it ALL THE TIME. Which, if that is not some sort of testament to why I think religion is just a touch fucked up off the mark then I don't know what is? Why would a 10 year old kid feel the need to ask for so much forgiveness 50x a day? Ok, exposing weird childhood issues and ANYWAY, NOT THE POINT I'M TRYING TO MAKE.

The point is, I do that, this mantra business. I sort of find something that really resonates with me and I say it, to myself, kind of incessantly. When I'm in a state of crisis I say it out loud incessantly. It's sort of my nervous tic.

So when Henry and Thomas the Train were learning all about "health and safety" and were chanting it as they were toot toot tooting along, well it clicked in my brain. 

Health and safety. Health and safety. Health and safety.

That's the crux of all I want or need. 

So I say it now. I say it a LOT, you know, in my head. Or if I'm driving white knuckled in a snowstorm you would definitely witness the tic/mantra. I like to believe that by focusing on HEALTH and SAFETY that I am energetically pulling both phenomenons to me and my family.

That's what I tell myself. And so far, it's worked. 

Health and safety. Health and safety. Health and safety.

Skirt: Taylor Joelle

Shirt: Gap

Hat: Old Navy

Sunglasses: Old Navy

When your reproductive self goes on strike.

My daughter is two years three months.
Which means if I were to get pregnant she would be just over three when her new brother/sister arrives. Three is good. A 3rd grader to a 6th grader. A senior to a freshman.

Only I'm not pregnant. And Ellie's sibling time span clock is tick tick ticking away.

I don't understand you, you crazy, unpredictable reproductive system. You surprised me with Ellie (which, btw, was the BEST surprise of my entire life). And see I sort of thought once my husband said "ok we can try for another" that somehow his words would magically hijack themselves onto his sperm and somehow make their way into the crazy, cavernous egg of LIFE. Only they didn't. Instead they went on strike, despite ovulation kits, phone apps and plenty of just-not-feeling-it sex.

I've tried to be laissez faire about the whole thing. You can't force these things to happen. But inside there is this TOTALLY AWESOME PARTY waiting to happen, full of confetti and streamers and balloons. Only each month the party recipient doesn't show up. Each month my balloons of hope get just a little more deflated. Each month. Each period. Each unfertilized egg.

I took me and my eggs to a new ob last week to figure out what the problem is. I've been given the task of taking my temperature every morning before I get up starting on day 3 of my period, which of course I totally forgot as today is day 3. Also yesterday I was supposed to get some blood work drawn and Mike got the task of jerking off in a cup, which for some reason cracks me up, and guys I have it written on a prescription pad! (ok, it doesn't say "jerk off in a cup" but it MAY AS WELL). And I don't know, I just don't wanna. I know Mike doesn't wanna. I guess I was hoping that by my GOING to the ob that my ovaries or whatever is on strike would GET THE POINT. I just don't want this to be so much work.

I know I'm blessed with a beautiful daughter. And let me tell you, she is the light of my world. I love being her mother, and just like I told Mike the other day, I feel like there is so much mothering in me. I feel so identified in the role of MOMMY and I really feel as though I am supposed to have more than one child to love. I know there are children out there that need homes, and maybe we will pursue that route one day, and that will be okay. But for now I'm in the midst of my monthly disappointment.

I remind myself of my blessings, for which there are many. I remind myself that these things will work out. But I still get to honor that one part of me that feels the disappointment. Because that's real, too.

Now excuse me, I need to go buy a new never-been-up-someones-butt thermometer.

Shine on

Sometimes you read things, or hear things, (or for that matter taste, see, feel) that strike a chord.
They shine on something inside of you that was dormant, or maybe you forgot, or maybe that you just figured needed extra shining.
This girl got me shining today.
Please check out her poem in the first 4 minutes of this video.

"I want her to know that this world is made out of sugar. It can crumble so easily but don’t be afraid to stick your tongue out and taste it." --Sarah Kay

9-11

I remember.

Awestruck. Mortified.
This was really happening.
Glued to the television.

I remember.

The eerie silence
as normal routines became confronted with confusing, visceral heart pain.
The odd kinship of strangers,
the acknowledgment of the new awareness
of just how vulnerable we were.

I remember.

The day I first experienced the shadow side
of collective consciousness.
Appalled that man could do this to man.
Fearful.

I remember.

When all things trivial slipped away into the smoke of that day.
When man slowly arose from the assault
holding hands,
wanting to be better men.

I remember.

so long sweet season...

I am letting out a big, beautiful, happy, contented sigh.

What a season.

Colorado continues to be amazing. After every summer I feel as though I'm a newlywed; enchanted and appreciative and oh so in love.

I spent Labor Day marking the end of this spectacular season on top of a 14,000 foot mountain. Humbled.

and upside down.

And full of gratitude.

Life is soooooo good.

on being a better nurse

Dementia.
She makes no sense.
She's contracted.
He looks like he's looking right through you.
He's mean.
She won't even remember that I'm here.
He doesn't understand what I'm saying.
She is impossible to engage.

Dismissive, on the bad days.

On the good days:
Mother. Grandmother. Father. Son.
(Somebody loved.)

My little dementia patient today:
her love of God,
her often nonsensical talk,
the dolls she clutched that lay all around her,
the mysterious oatmeal looking substance smeared on her sheets and dolls.
Her renedition of Jesus Loves Me
(the laugh I tried so hard to suppress).
The smile on her face,
the light that shone out of her eyes,
the appreciation of having people visit her.

We all have a light to shine.
I want to never be dismissive of That. Light.

Living on a Prayer....and Fashion Friday

You guys, it is SO NICE OUT!!! And it's FRIDAY!! And it's a 3 DAY WEEKEND!!!

When the weather shifts it almost always makes me feel a little giddy. And when the weather shifts in to fall I become EXTRA giddy. I needed this giddiness, because like all things that are dragged out, I was getting downright depressed at all of that heat. All that heat and frigging sun! IT IS SO STINKIN SUNNY HERE YOU HAVE NO IDEA!

Wait, didn't I just write a post about not being content ever? Hahahaha. 

Anyway, because of my current giddy state I have promised myself I would not look at this blog today (I've been checking it daily), because every time I do I cry like a baby. For real. Sob even. Instead I'm getting ready for our big garage sale tomorrow. And I'm stealing away from work to sit in my quiet house for lunch. Later I'm going to clean things that are dirty and make them smell good. I'm going to enjoy our friday night ritual of thai takeout. I'm going to NOT turn on the swamp cooler tonight. 

I'm going to continue my increasingly routine habit of cranking up Bon Jovi after dinner and having a dance off. I mean who doesn't LOVE "Living on a Prayer"!? I tell you two people who definitely do...me and Ellie. Juries still out on Mike.

OH, WE'RE HALFWAY THERE....!!!!!!

Dress: Beehave (from Zulily)

Hat: garage sale find
 

 

Somedays,

..you get to be a superhero.


SHA ZAM!

running

You probably haven't noticed, if you're a facebook friend of mine, that I've stopped logging my runs on my FB page. I mean who really cared anyway, right? Except I did have this silly logic. Anyway, I've stopped doing that.

I have not stopped running, just simply shed the accountability. I have found that once I got rid of the timer, the timer against myself, against my friends, my BROTHER, that the whole act of running became enjoyable again. When tied to a device that held me accountable for my miles and speed, it pushed me. I went faster than I normally do and used that accountability to push me harder.

And true I am a big fan of pushing myself, but I believe the motivations need to come from a place that is healthy, that will provide endurance. With this whole fb accountability I would become very frustrated with myself when I wasn't running to the caliber I expected of myself. I didn't put on the miles like I wanted to, mostly because I was running out of breath from keeping a pace that wasn't what my body needed. Truthfully I wasn't having a lot of FUN. My motivations were based on expectations, not in doing what felt good to me and my body.  Though it felt good to be "faster", in the end it bogged me down, because it wasn't the pace that I needed for myself.

I was thinking about this in the shower just now, as I was cleaning up the grime from a 7 mjle run in 95degree heat. How easy it has been to run with no self imposed expectations. No facebook stats for all to see. When running anonymously and without judgment, it just felt GOOD to keep going.

Why do I do this with the expectations? As a mother, a wife, a nurse, a family member, I feel expectations that I must meet. But who puts those on me? The only place to point the finger is at myself. I [have tendencies to] get stuck in the hopeless cycle of comparing. Comparing running stats, the progress of my child, the relationship between me and my husband, you name it. In the end it is such a concept in futility. It takes the power away from the rhythms of my own life when I compare it to others. It makes my own unique gifts tougher to see.

Pacing is an important concept in running and in life. You pace to endure. You listen to your body, and your heart, in doing what is right FOR YOU. And for your family. Your pace is highly personal.

Sure I still like to push myself, because it feels good to me to do so. But I want my limits and expectations to be defined by me.  I do at least  one speed workout a week, but now mostly when I run I go slow. I breathe easily. And I can run so much further. There is no phone. There is no music. There is only me, my breathe, my pace. And it feels damn good.

Last August weekend wrapup

On this very HOT weekend:

• I enjoyed NOT packing to go somewhere out of town.
• Went hiking in Boulder with the fam.
• Went on an all girl bike ride through the city and beyond. 
• Made a chocolate zucchini cake.
• Had a bbq with friends.
• Ate homemade ice cream that Annie made that is SO DARN GOOD! (basil with candy coated pine nuts!) (and she left some in the freezer)
• Went to the finish line of the Pro Cycling Challenge.
• Endured immense heat and crowds to do so. 
• Read a book.
• Watched the IAAF World Championships and was surprisingly riveted. Especially with this event. 
• Watched Ellie ride her tricycle. 
• Tracked Hurricane Irene and was grateful to only be privy to it via media. Though I admit I was a little jealous of the rain. 
• And well, about a million other little details. 

Another weekend well done.

Happy Birthday to Tatas...and fashion friday

Wha? You don't sing Happy Birthday to your breasts? 

Ok, ok, it's not really the birthday of my tatas, but Ellie has spent the past evening singing Happy Birthday to them.. so sure kid, why not.

This summer has been such a whirlwind. So much packing and unpacking. So much heat. So much FUN. But we are ready to move on to fall. Those summer energies could sure use a nice dose of some cool, crisp air. So I admit I get a little bummed out when I see record setting temps all week. I have to remind myself to enjoy it while it's here; soon it will be cold enough. Though I do yearn for just a couple days of RAIN. Or CLOUDS. Some break in the sky that shields the sun and gives permission to just hunker down inside. Summer is just not for hunkering. 

Dress: Hartstrings
Shoes: See Kai Run (my favorites!)

Folkin' out

Have you guys ever heard of 8tracks? It's sort of liked mixed tape for today's world. I played with it a little, you can check out one my mixes here. 

I am so folked out right now. I just spent the day working from home organizing my itunes playlists, discovering new music, making playlists of awesome music I forgot that I had. This past weekend I went to the Planet Bluegrass Folks Fest, again, and enjoyed all kinds of summery outdoor folk music. 

I realize folk music isn't super cool, or super fancy, but that's exactly what I like about it. It's simple. It's not manufactured or overly produced. It's just sweet songs sung and played on instruments. And though I don't crave it for every musical fix, it's often what I turn to when I need to relax, or when I need the atmosphere in my home to feel a bit more calm. 

To me, music epitomizes all that I love about summer. It changes the mood. It makes things less (or more) intense. It makes sense out of a bewildering emotion. It catalyses what's going on inside. It transports you somewhere else. And it makes the world so darn pretty. And music + summer + colorado is just the most magnificent combination. 

You might not like THIS kind of music, but I sure hope you have something that gets you to your core. It's just too fun.

Having it all

Oh man sometimes I kind of suck.

I have this annoying quality of not being content. It curses me, it does. It shines that pretty, sparkly light on the other side of the mountain. I'm always reaching for something else, changing directions, never sitting still. I love it and I hate it about myself.

I briefly wrote about how I recently changed jobs, and though I won't bore you with the details on WHY I found it so absolutely necessary to leave my old job, I have to admit I miss it. I miss the perks, the very little driving, and about a hundred details. The new job is new, and it's more intense. Right now I'm in training mode so I'm hightailing it to the other side of town, in traffic, to the office where I sit on a computer all day to watching webinars and learning their charting system. (I am hating it, but remind myself that it's temporary) Then I come home, in traffic. All the while I'm jonesing at the bit to get to Ellie's preschool so I can wrap my arms around her. You guys, if you saw her when I pick her up you would melt into a million little pieces right on the floor. No matter what she's doing, however engaged she is, she lights up when she sees me. "MOMMY!" as she runs to me and buries her head in the crook of my neck. She'll stay with her head in that crook for a good 10 seconds as I squeeze her and feel my own heart swell out of my chest.

Every single afternoon. Five days a week.

Are you a puddle on the floor? Cause I sure am.

I'm being totally honest when I say that I don't ever like to be apart from her, you know with the exception of a couple hours a day to do a few things for myself. And that right there sums up how much I struggle with being a working mother. How much I crave seeing my precious babe. How fucking sad I feel that I have to be away from her as much as I do.

So going back to my original point, when I left my other job I wasn't being the kind of "nurse" I wanted to be. The BEST nurse I could be. The position I was in didn't allow it. So I changed, because of this desire and let's face it, because of the money. I left my cushy little job with very little driving and a TON of downtime for the stress and gruel of being a hospice case manager again. I left for a job that is more demanding, more stressful, and way way more intense. I left because that's the kind of nurse I want to be. It really is.

How do you be the very best you can be in all facets of your life? How do you have a successful career and give it the kind of attention it demands and be the kind of mother that you want to be as well? These are rhetorical, and they are questions I ask myself every day. I pull from one to give to the other. I take time away from my daughter to be a nurse and when I'm working I do everything I can to get home as soon as possible. It makes my job suffer, sure. Just as having a job makes my parenting suffer. The whole balancing act is a great big debacle sometimes. And yet sometimes it's this elegant dance that "works". Each day is different like that.

Ah contentment. You elusive little bitch.

off the grid

We went away this weekend, begrudgingly at first as it had been a realllly long week. And camping, well, there's just so much dang PREP. Prep and PACKING. But we had this long standing reservation to a wilderness yurt way high in the mountains near Eagle, CO, and so we went, just the three of us. Turns out, it was

awesome.

We like to camp and all but I'm embarrassed to admit that we rarely are without electricity and water, or at least without very easy access to such. But we had none of that. Instead we had a stark yurt set deep in a gorgeous valley. No entertainment besides a game of Candyland, my guitar, our own conversation, and NATURE.

We went on a couple hikes and ended up stumbling upon a riverbed near our yurt that was, to me, magical. We explored it for, literally hours, all by our lonesomes. We waded in the cool waters, built cairns, chucked rocks, and relaxed. Really, truly, relaxed.

So this weekend I'm thankful for stepping out of my (our) comfort zones and enjoying the simple things. Ironic how the simpler it gets, the more full my heart becomes.

The art of toddler photography

Though not impossible, toddlography is TRICKY, and there are several elements that I personally suggest to making your toddler photography session one that doesn't make you want to run for the liquor cabinet.

Three little girls

I am so blessed to have my very good friend, Betsy, living next door. I'm even more blessed that Betsy has twins just two months older than Ellie. Our little girls have known each other since the wee beginnings of their lives, and now they are schoolmates at a nearby preschool. They are the closest thing to "sisters" that Ellie knows. And well, we (Ellie and I), just love them. Love that whole darn family. And we are so grateful for having them in our lives.

Just a few months old

One year olds

Two year olds

TIME, SLOW DOWN!!!

Love, on fashion friday.

.

Through the good

and the bad

and the fun

and the sucky

she is my little peanut girl.

I love her with all that I am.

Dress: Pippa and Julie
Shoes: Run Kai Run
Headband: from an adorable sock shop in Breckenridge


I AM SO DAMN GLAD IT'S FRIDAY.
Happy weekend to you!

House of pain

Our summer of exhilarating, adventurous, freedom wielding FUN has ended.

**screech!**

Oh MA GAWD. 

Ellie has become a bit of a monster. (And future Ellie, know that we LOVE you VERY much should you ever read this) Nothing can make this child happy. If she wants something and we do it then we do it ALL wrong. Then it's tantrum after tantrum. I mean literally, tantrum after tantrum. 

Ellie has started preschool. And the IRONY is that each day that I have picked her up this week her teacher has taken me aside to tell me how well she's doing. How's she so "carefree" and "happy" and gets along with all the other kids and "shares". 

Irony is a bitch. 

As soon as we hit the outside of the preschool the other Ellie appears. She wants me to pick her up! So I do! But my hand is not exactly on her stomach the way she wants it! She moves my hand! My hand doesn't bend that way! She is pissed! She wants my hand on her stomach! I kiss on top of the head. "NO KISSES!!!! NO KISSES!!". [OMG] Sorry Ellie, no kisses. It goes on like this. Moment after frustrating moment. 

I started a new job this week, and it's [unfortunately] back to full time. It makes me sad. It makes me long for my sweet daughter. It makes me resent that I have to be away from her. It makes me want to get the EFF out of work so I can go and hug my little girl. And then it makes me feel like CRAP when our time together is so frustrating.

Today was a particularly good day according to her preschool teacher, who remarked that she is getting into the routine "quicker than most kids". I was feeling like doing something special with my little tot who was so sweet running up to me in the playground yelling "Mommy!".(she always does that, and the sweetness continues till we leave the building). Instead of heading right for the car we walk hand in hand to the ice cream shop on the corner. I should have stopped when she started the fussing and crying because after SEVERAL attempts she couldn't get hold of my hand the with PERFECT finger placement that she was looking for. Anyway, I order us two baby scoops in dishes, and folks as soon as I stuck that spoon into her ice cream to give it to her ALL HELL BROKE LOOSE. Apparently I wasn't supposed to do that so I watched the frustration mount and mount and MOUNT as she tried to wipe the ice cream from the spoon, never to her satisfaction, only to dip it back in to take a bite, realizing she got it all dirty AGAIN, ice cream never gets to her lips and there it goes. Temper tantrum. I take away her ice cream and the screaming gets fierce. We leave the store with me carrying out my crying child sideways, arm stretched out in front of me holding both of our uneaten ice creams. 

I wanted to hurl them into traffic. 

And so, this is what we are dealing with right now. It's hard at home. It's hard on our marriage. It's hard to MISS her and want to spend time with her while at the same time wanting to run out the door to get a break. When we ran out of milk tonight I jumped at the opportunity to go to the store. And I slow drove the whole way there. And then I slow shopped. And then I slow drove home. 

And then sweet Ellie was back when I came home, well kind of. 

I miss spending so much time with her. It makes me really sad. I hate that I have to be a working mom. I hate that our time together has been so awful this week. I hate that I feel relieved when she goes to bed. Relieved and guilty and sad, because a whole day went by and there was very little bonding. 

I'm sure life will feel a lot brighter when this particular stage is OVER.

This picture was taken at my friend Jenn's wedding this weekend (isn't she pretty?). Notice the FRUSTRATION involved with eating a piece of carrot cake!!!  Oh man. I just want to squeeze her and hug her.