I just got back from a six day photoshoot in LA with 100 Olympic and Paralympic hopefuls in preparation for the Games in Sochi. These are some things that happened while I was there:
-Lindsey Vonn ate the MoJo bar I put in my backpack for my China trip and forgot to take out
-I increased my lifetime Louie Vito hug total from 1 to 3
-I did some light flirting in line at the Pressed Juicery in West Hollywood with this guy
-My coworkers and I petted Julianne Hough's dogs and then tried to be cool during dinner at Chateau Marmont with Jim from The Office sitting about 10 feet away
-I finally got to see finished samples of all the amazing Nike and RL gear for the Winter Olympics and they look so awesome I want to cry about it
-I crushed all the uber fit LA ladies in the spin classes we went to
-The Ralph Lauren stylists confirmed that white can be worn year round ending years of internal debate
-I finally got to see my dear friend Corey after too long of not seeing here and we spent a glorious night listening to Sufjan Stevens sing about planets in the Walt Disney Music Hall in downtown LA
-I met the future husband of my other dear friend Beckie
But the biggest and most important highlight of the week, and a thing that matters way, way more than celebrity sightings and athlete bonding and fancy food is...
I FINALLY GOT A NIECE!! Little Nina arrived Friday night around midnight and she's beautiful and perfect and I'm so anxious to meet her that I'm getting on a plane Thursday night so I can hold her for the whole weekend.
I'm not posting any photos yet, she's only up on closed social media networks for now but she's got a ton of black hair and big, big brown eyes.
Once again, I sigh with relief that my sometimes shallow seeming life is still anchored in the right kind of priorities.
Sunday, April 28, 2013
Monday, April 15, 2013
Beantown
One of the proudest achievements of my life is running a marathon. A year after my own race I had a pretty killer opportunity to be in Boston over marathon weekend, to go the Runner's World pre-race party, and to stand just around the corner from the finish line and cheer on thousands of my brothers and sisters in the "marathoner" fraternity.
I moved to Boston the next year and spent several more glorious Patriot's Days in downtown Boston, cheering for people we knew, finally being outside on one of the first warm days of the year and basking in a day off that none of our friends anywhere else were getting. I loved watching the elite athletes come in first but what I really went to see were all the thousands of people doing something that at some point, I bet they thought they couldn't. I knew just how much of your life got sucked up into being in that race and I knew that every person out there had a story. In many ways my marathon set a solid foundation for the rest of my adult life and I can't watch one anymore without getting excited for all the other people getting to experience that life change as well.
Boston is a funny place-it's a big city that kind of still sees itself as a small town. You go downtown on Marathon Monday, or the 4th of July, or during playoff season, and you'll run into half your friends. Geographically it's tight and emotionally it's tight too. It'll freeze your guts out for six months and act like it doesn't want you around and then suddenly spring comes and it's like the whole place is just dying for you to come have a picnic on it's lawn.
I felt a lot of things today. Relief as I got in touch with friends I knew would be down near the finish because if I'd been there, we would have been down near the finish. Overwhelming sadness for the people who went to celebrate the best day in the city they love and are now facing the loss of a loved one or a totally changed life due to a horrific injury no one should get celebrating the best day in the city they love. As a person who works in the sports industry, and someone who plans events, I couldn't help but feel a certain melancholy that this will change the way marathons are managed and change it in sad ways. Part of the magic of a marathon is being right there, lining the street, watching the regular folks run in the same steps as the Champions. I don't know what the change looks like but I know it involves more rules, less access. And it has to right? I felt heartsick for all the organizers and the people who work so hard to put on this event. I have certainly spent moments at venues filled with athletes and volunteers imagining what would I do if something unspeakable happened and always feel a tremendous sense of relief when we pack up safe and sound. I watched all those first responders today and felt grateful that there are people in the world who choose professions where they have to run towards the bombs we are all escaping.
Mostly I just felt heavy hearted for a city that used to be my home. There is no way something like this happens and doesn't leave a scar. I think about all the events that didn't worry us a bit, all the times we crowded onto the Esplanade, or jammed into the Hatch Shell for movies and concerts and fireworks, and how those "best days" will now necessarily make people pause. If there is a group of people who will just stubbornly refuse to let this change them, it's Bostonians. I would give just about anything to be at the next Red Sox games because I know Fenway will come up with some perfect way to get the tears out and then everyone will say how much the Yankees still suck and they'll belt out "Sweet Caroline" and it will feel like Boston again. I sometimes felt like that town was trying to kill me and when I left it was time. But today I wanted to be in someone's living room in Somerville, sharing stories and sitting really close to some of the best people on planet earth.
I really do love that dirty water.
I moved to Boston the next year and spent several more glorious Patriot's Days in downtown Boston, cheering for people we knew, finally being outside on one of the first warm days of the year and basking in a day off that none of our friends anywhere else were getting. I loved watching the elite athletes come in first but what I really went to see were all the thousands of people doing something that at some point, I bet they thought they couldn't. I knew just how much of your life got sucked up into being in that race and I knew that every person out there had a story. In many ways my marathon set a solid foundation for the rest of my adult life and I can't watch one anymore without getting excited for all the other people getting to experience that life change as well.
Boston is a funny place-it's a big city that kind of still sees itself as a small town. You go downtown on Marathon Monday, or the 4th of July, or during playoff season, and you'll run into half your friends. Geographically it's tight and emotionally it's tight too. It'll freeze your guts out for six months and act like it doesn't want you around and then suddenly spring comes and it's like the whole place is just dying for you to come have a picnic on it's lawn.
I felt a lot of things today. Relief as I got in touch with friends I knew would be down near the finish because if I'd been there, we would have been down near the finish. Overwhelming sadness for the people who went to celebrate the best day in the city they love and are now facing the loss of a loved one or a totally changed life due to a horrific injury no one should get celebrating the best day in the city they love. As a person who works in the sports industry, and someone who plans events, I couldn't help but feel a certain melancholy that this will change the way marathons are managed and change it in sad ways. Part of the magic of a marathon is being right there, lining the street, watching the regular folks run in the same steps as the Champions. I don't know what the change looks like but I know it involves more rules, less access. And it has to right? I felt heartsick for all the organizers and the people who work so hard to put on this event. I have certainly spent moments at venues filled with athletes and volunteers imagining what would I do if something unspeakable happened and always feel a tremendous sense of relief when we pack up safe and sound. I watched all those first responders today and felt grateful that there are people in the world who choose professions where they have to run towards the bombs we are all escaping.
Mostly I just felt heavy hearted for a city that used to be my home. There is no way something like this happens and doesn't leave a scar. I think about all the events that didn't worry us a bit, all the times we crowded onto the Esplanade, or jammed into the Hatch Shell for movies and concerts and fireworks, and how those "best days" will now necessarily make people pause. If there is a group of people who will just stubbornly refuse to let this change them, it's Bostonians. I would give just about anything to be at the next Red Sox games because I know Fenway will come up with some perfect way to get the tears out and then everyone will say how much the Yankees still suck and they'll belt out "Sweet Caroline" and it will feel like Boston again. I sometimes felt like that town was trying to kill me and when I left it was time. But today I wanted to be in someone's living room in Somerville, sharing stories and sitting really close to some of the best people on planet earth.
I really do love that dirty water.
Sunday, April 14, 2013
On the road again
It's been nice to be home for a few weeks but Wednesday I leave for another long haul trip. Three days in Portland with our friends at the swoosh and then seven glorious days in West Hollywood outfitting 100 darling Sochi 2014 Olympic and Paralympic hopefuls for a photo shoot with pretty much every sponsor we have. Since I have about 10,000 favorite people scattered around PDX and Southern California I'm hoping to squeeze in some good friend time in addition to all the admittedly fun but still work, work stuff.
It's been pretty quiet around here as of late, mostly just trying to continue my healthy habits theme for 2013. Lots of cooking, working out, and getting to bed at a reasonable hour. I had a baby epiphany this year that although I sure do like to be doing interesting and fun things with my life, it's ok if I'm not doing them EVERY SINGLE SECOND. It's ok to have a routine that keeps me fit and sane that is punctuated with episodes of "doing epic sh*t". We had an outstanding closing day at Breckenridge this weekend where I actually managed to get real live air on a whole bunch of jumps. It was a pretty ok balance to spending most of my evenings this week making CDs for a bunch of friends. I put a note up on Facebook that I was in the mood to make some mixes and suddenly I was addressing 30 packages to people from DC to Truckee, CA.
One of the songs I put on a few of them is a song that might be the only one to ever make me wish I was a rock star. I would love to have written this and I would probably be beside myself to perform it in front of a screaming crowd. I'd also take Grace Potter's legs since we're being honest.
And with that, it's time for bed before 10:30.
It's been pretty quiet around here as of late, mostly just trying to continue my healthy habits theme for 2013. Lots of cooking, working out, and getting to bed at a reasonable hour. I had a baby epiphany this year that although I sure do like to be doing interesting and fun things with my life, it's ok if I'm not doing them EVERY SINGLE SECOND. It's ok to have a routine that keeps me fit and sane that is punctuated with episodes of "doing epic sh*t". We had an outstanding closing day at Breckenridge this weekend where I actually managed to get real live air on a whole bunch of jumps. It was a pretty ok balance to spending most of my evenings this week making CDs for a bunch of friends. I put a note up on Facebook that I was in the mood to make some mixes and suddenly I was addressing 30 packages to people from DC to Truckee, CA.
One of the songs I put on a few of them is a song that might be the only one to ever make me wish I was a rock star. I would love to have written this and I would probably be beside myself to perform it in front of a screaming crowd. I'd also take Grace Potter's legs since we're being honest.
And with that, it's time for bed before 10:30.
Friday, March 29, 2013
America
Last year was remarkable in a lot of ways but one of them was that 75% of my vacation days were spent in other countries. Not a bad record right?
But I love love love so many parts of my own country and so this year, I'm trying to take most of my vacation days enjoying the people and places I already love or want to explore right here in the U.S. So when three of my lady friends in California got a hankering for an East Coast adventure, I signed up for whatever that entailed.
Turns out we all mind-melded and everyone wants to do exactly the things on my East Coast adventure TO DO list. We're flying to Martha's Vineyard for a few days of lazy island life and what I hope is an almost unhealthy amount of time on a beach cruiser. Then we'll drive to Newport, RI where I will be attending my VERY FIRST multi-day music festival. We picked one with a boatload of history and a less flashy but super meaty lineup than you find with some of the Coachella, Sasquatch, Bonnaroo type festivals. I would like to hit one of those one day but the Newport Folk Festival has been on my list for years. Throw in that some of my dearest friends live just outside Newport and then we're headed to Boston for a crazy 24 hour cap to the trip and well, my heart leapt with joy when I booked the tickets. Beth Orton, The Lumineers, Cold Specks, ANDREW BIRD, Jim James, The Felice Brothers, Hey Marseilles. From artists I have seen in Heather Browne's living room to people who have been on my playlists since before there was an iPod to put them in, add in a venue that is right on the water and a group of friends who will be willing to soak it all up, I feel like I am hitting the vacation jackpot.
The festival posted this video the other day and you can call me a nerd but I got tears in my eyes watching it. America the Beautiful indeed.
A few of the artists I am excited about...
(this song might be in my all-time top ten. i can't listen to it without being right back into my first time living in Boston.)
(this one time, i was at a Lumineers show, and they needed a glockenspiel holder and they picked me. and there were like 200 people at that show. and now lookie. so cool.)
But I love love love so many parts of my own country and so this year, I'm trying to take most of my vacation days enjoying the people and places I already love or want to explore right here in the U.S. So when three of my lady friends in California got a hankering for an East Coast adventure, I signed up for whatever that entailed.
Turns out we all mind-melded and everyone wants to do exactly the things on my East Coast adventure TO DO list. We're flying to Martha's Vineyard for a few days of lazy island life and what I hope is an almost unhealthy amount of time on a beach cruiser. Then we'll drive to Newport, RI where I will be attending my VERY FIRST multi-day music festival. We picked one with a boatload of history and a less flashy but super meaty lineup than you find with some of the Coachella, Sasquatch, Bonnaroo type festivals. I would like to hit one of those one day but the Newport Folk Festival has been on my list for years. Throw in that some of my dearest friends live just outside Newport and then we're headed to Boston for a crazy 24 hour cap to the trip and well, my heart leapt with joy when I booked the tickets. Beth Orton, The Lumineers, Cold Specks, ANDREW BIRD, Jim James, The Felice Brothers, Hey Marseilles. From artists I have seen in Heather Browne's living room to people who have been on my playlists since before there was an iPod to put them in, add in a venue that is right on the water and a group of friends who will be willing to soak it all up, I feel like I am hitting the vacation jackpot.
The festival posted this video the other day and you can call me a nerd but I got tears in my eyes watching it. America the Beautiful indeed.
A few of the artists I am excited about...
(this song might be in my all-time top ten. i can't listen to it without being right back into my first time living in Boston.)
(this one time, i was at a Lumineers show, and they needed a glockenspiel holder and they picked me. and there were like 200 people at that show. and now lookie. so cool.)
Wednesday, March 13, 2013
Oh Hello
I'm inexplicably giddy this week. Maybe it's flying all the way around the world in the space of ten days. Maybe it's nephew time in about 36 hours. Maybe it's two baby nieces on the way. Maybe it's spring coming soon. Maybe it's an influx of great music. Maybe it's too much flirting (but thank goodness there has been some flirting!). I don't know. What I do know is there is a lot of dancing happening in my kitchen lately. Solo dancing mind you, but the serious, like no one is watching, whole soul, shaking it like a polaroid picture kind of dancing.
My soundtrack is really killer.
Brother and sister duo? Yes please.
(braggy sidenote-my super talented photographer friend Dusdin did the cover of this fantastic you must get it album)
I saw these guys play in a coffee shop here in the Springs last night on an old couch sandwiched comfortably between my friend Casey and a very cute fella who was way, way, WAY too young to talk to as much as I did but way way WAY too cute to ignore. The kind of night that reminds me what it was like to be 15. (He was 22 just so we are clear-no actual 15 year olds were involved)
I have a huge crush on Mackelmore. Like I giggle through his songs kind of crush.
Pickwick. I mean, if you haven't gotten on board do it now because they are blowing up. We'll be seeing them Tuesday night in a venue ten times the size of the one they played just six months ago. Get with it.
My soundtrack is really killer.
Brother and sister duo? Yes please.
(braggy sidenote-my super talented photographer friend Dusdin did the cover of this fantastic you must get it album)
I saw these guys play in a coffee shop here in the Springs last night on an old couch sandwiched comfortably between my friend Casey and a very cute fella who was way, way, WAY too young to talk to as much as I did but way way WAY too cute to ignore. The kind of night that reminds me what it was like to be 15. (He was 22 just so we are clear-no actual 15 year olds were involved)
I have a huge crush on Mackelmore. Like I giggle through his songs kind of crush.
Pickwick. I mean, if you haven't gotten on board do it now because they are blowing up. We'll be seeing them Tuesday night in a venue ten times the size of the one they played just six months ago. Get with it.
Monday, March 11, 2013
Ready or not
After spending last spring and summer in the clutches of the Olympics, I am almost beside myself with excitement to have these two seasons to myself this year. Weekends in Utah, a jaunt to Martha's Vineyard, a Rhode Island music festival, camping with the Young Women in my stake and all the hikes and day trips to fabulous parts of Colorado I have yet to see are just a few of the things on my agenda.
I'm getting a little preview this weekend when I head to Salt Lake for my sister's baby shower. My St. George nephews will be around and we've already planned way, way more activities than we can actually fit into three days. Just the way I like it.
My friend Adam sent me his annual Spring Mix yesterday and although the whole thing is wonderful, this is the song that keeps me hitting repeat. It's 4 and a half minutes of joy. I can't stop smiling.
I'm getting a little preview this weekend when I head to Salt Lake for my sister's baby shower. My St. George nephews will be around and we've already planned way, way more activities than we can actually fit into three days. Just the way I like it.
My friend Adam sent me his annual Spring Mix yesterday and although the whole thing is wonderful, this is the song that keeps me hitting repeat. It's 4 and a half minutes of joy. I can't stop smiling.
Saturday, March 02, 2013
Learning to Fly
Perhaps the most disappointing part of getting older has been discovering that, contrary to my childhood belief, adults don't actually have all their sh*t together. Even as a law abiding citizen with an education and a good job, I am still constantly learning and making mistakes and then sometimes not learning at all and making the same mistakes over and over. It often feels like the more I think I have figured out, the more I see how much there is I still don't have a handle on. In theory I think that is a good thing-it means that I am not staying in one place, that the bar is ever raising on what I expect from myself. In practice it means that my teenage dreams of knowing everything when I grew up seem more and more naive by the day.
Some days though you get flashes of real growth and get to experience some peace about an experience that was incredibly hard.
Without going into to much personal detail, there was something I wanted for pretty much my entire twenties and early thirties. Something I wished for and prayed for almost everyday. Something part of me knew probably wasn't the right thing but that I continued to pursue even if it sometimes meant ignoring my own intuition.
Slowly slowly I started to question why I was holding onto this dream and began to realize that it actually wasn't good for me. So I let go. At first it felt like I had lost a security blanket and I missed that dream. And then it became clear that my narrow focus had blocked other possibilities. Saying goodbye made space in my life for things I hadn't considered. I mourned a little bit for the years lost chasing a shadow but I felt stronger when I stopped leaning on it.
This whole thing was a couple of years ago and I use it as an example to myself when I'm frustrated about some lesson I think is too hard. I think about all the tears and anguish and frustration and heartache and disappointment that didn't seem fair at the time. And then I look at what true change it brought and I feel thankful.
So that is enough. But sometimes you get a little bonus. A bit of "a ha" information that is almost physical in it's power to confirm that you made the right choice. That what you wanted wasn't what you needed.
I'm writing this from a cozy hotel room in Germany. Earlier this week I was in China. By the time I get back to Denver on Wednesday I will have flown all the way around the world. There are things about my life that keep me up at night with worry and fear and things that absolutely take my breath away I feel so lucky. I suppose that makes me fairly normal. I hope that makes me fairly normal. But I'm grateful for the moments where the lucky outweighs the scary and I feel that much closer to being the person my mother thinks I already am.
This version of a great song cycled through my iTunes this morning and I have had it on repeat. Learning to Fly indeed.
Some days though you get flashes of real growth and get to experience some peace about an experience that was incredibly hard.
Without going into to much personal detail, there was something I wanted for pretty much my entire twenties and early thirties. Something I wished for and prayed for almost everyday. Something part of me knew probably wasn't the right thing but that I continued to pursue even if it sometimes meant ignoring my own intuition.
Slowly slowly I started to question why I was holding onto this dream and began to realize that it actually wasn't good for me. So I let go. At first it felt like I had lost a security blanket and I missed that dream. And then it became clear that my narrow focus had blocked other possibilities. Saying goodbye made space in my life for things I hadn't considered. I mourned a little bit for the years lost chasing a shadow but I felt stronger when I stopped leaning on it.
This whole thing was a couple of years ago and I use it as an example to myself when I'm frustrated about some lesson I think is too hard. I think about all the tears and anguish and frustration and heartache and disappointment that didn't seem fair at the time. And then I look at what true change it brought and I feel thankful.
So that is enough. But sometimes you get a little bonus. A bit of "a ha" information that is almost physical in it's power to confirm that you made the right choice. That what you wanted wasn't what you needed.
I'm writing this from a cozy hotel room in Germany. Earlier this week I was in China. By the time I get back to Denver on Wednesday I will have flown all the way around the world. There are things about my life that keep me up at night with worry and fear and things that absolutely take my breath away I feel so lucky. I suppose that makes me fairly normal. I hope that makes me fairly normal. But I'm grateful for the moments where the lucky outweighs the scary and I feel that much closer to being the person my mother thinks I already am.
This version of a great song cycled through my iTunes this morning and I have had it on repeat. Learning to Fly indeed.
Wednesday, February 20, 2013
Be the Match
About a month after I graduated from college and a month before I was moving to Switzerland for 18 months my dad's hereditary kidney disease reared it's ugly head and his kidneys shut down.
We had known for a long time that this was a possibility. The disease had come from my grandmother's family and although none of us ending up getting it, it had been the cause of death for nearly everyone on that side.
It was hard to leave with so much uncertainty but my dad had served in the Air Force when he was young so he was getting good care at the VA Hospital in Salt Lake. My brother drove him to dialysis three times a week while I was gone and then a week after I got home, he got a kidney. We don't much about the donor except that she was in her 30s and had died in a car accident. Thirteen years later I still feel an enormous debt to her and to her family for making that choice to donate her organs.
So flash forward to November of this year. My beautiful sister-in-law who successfully battled thyroid cancer a few years ago found out that it had come back. Then a week later they found out she was pregnant with their first baby. Then two weeks later my brother got a call from the registry of bone marrow donors saying that he was likely a match for a leukemia patient.
Kristen's cancer is slow-moving and the doctors are waiting until she has little Clifford grandkid number 7 to do her surgery. Logan turned out to be a perfect match and goes to Seattle in two weeks to give a 31 year old stranger some of his healthy bone marrow.
Top it all off with my grandfather being in the hospital the last few weeks being treated for lung cancer and well, I can't help having all kinds of mixed emotions about being far away from the people I love when things get crazy.
However, another thing I am feeling is incredibly grateful and responsible to do my part for other families. My brother decided to use his second Ironman this summer as an opportunity to raise money and awareness for Be the Match, the national registry of bone marrow donors. You can read about his story and donate to his efforts here.
In addition to donating dollars, I have also filled out my profile at Be the Match so that maybe sometime I can be a bone marrow donor too. Any healthy adult can join the registry and there is all kinds of information there to set your mind at ease about the process. It's not a long application and you feel warm and fuzzy filling it out.
I posted Logan's link on Facebook yesterday and my cute dad who I think has commented on all of two links ever made this wonderful observation:
We had known for a long time that this was a possibility. The disease had come from my grandmother's family and although none of us ending up getting it, it had been the cause of death for nearly everyone on that side.
It was hard to leave with so much uncertainty but my dad had served in the Air Force when he was young so he was getting good care at the VA Hospital in Salt Lake. My brother drove him to dialysis three times a week while I was gone and then a week after I got home, he got a kidney. We don't much about the donor except that she was in her 30s and had died in a car accident. Thirteen years later I still feel an enormous debt to her and to her family for making that choice to donate her organs.
So flash forward to November of this year. My beautiful sister-in-law who successfully battled thyroid cancer a few years ago found out that it had come back. Then a week later they found out she was pregnant with their first baby. Then two weeks later my brother got a call from the registry of bone marrow donors saying that he was likely a match for a leukemia patient.
Kristen's cancer is slow-moving and the doctors are waiting until she has little Clifford grandkid number 7 to do her surgery. Logan turned out to be a perfect match and goes to Seattle in two weeks to give a 31 year old stranger some of his healthy bone marrow.
Top it all off with my grandfather being in the hospital the last few weeks being treated for lung cancer and well, I can't help having all kinds of mixed emotions about being far away from the people I love when things get crazy.
However, another thing I am feeling is incredibly grateful and responsible to do my part for other families. My brother decided to use his second Ironman this summer as an opportunity to raise money and awareness for Be the Match, the national registry of bone marrow donors. You can read about his story and donate to his efforts here.
In addition to donating dollars, I have also filled out my profile at Be the Match so that maybe sometime I can be a bone marrow donor too. Any healthy adult can join the registry and there is all kinds of information there to set your mind at ease about the process. It's not a long application and you feel warm and fuzzy filling it out.
I posted Logan's link on Facebook yesterday and my cute dad who I think has commented on all of two links ever made this wonderful observation:
As
the beneficiary of that donation 13 years ago, I can verify that all of you
young and healthy friends of Cliffords will never do anything more important or
worthwhile than saving a stranger's life. Please get on a donor list - someone
is waiting for you.
It's one thing to count your blessings and feel lucky about the good fortune in your life but if you have that good health or wealth or extra time, I think it's equally if not more important to do something with your blessings.
Join me?
Friday, February 15, 2013
Be Mine
Tuesday, January 22, 2013
Peak 8
I had probably the best ski day of my life yesterday. The weather was spectacular, we ended up with a crew eight friends deep, the boys put up with our endless photo ops sans complaint and I am finally to the point where the brave outweighs the scared. I still need to get a million times better before I can truly hang with all my double black diamond friends but I'm getting there. Plus-LOOK AT MY JACKET! I never pay full retail for anything but I saw this on some girl earlier in the season and couldn't rest until Santa (me) made it mine.
Old dogs, new tricks.
Friday, January 18, 2013
Oh Say Can You See
A couple of things...
Sometime last year-and neither of us are sure when or why-a girl in Seattle who loves the Olympics starting following me on Twitter. We had a couple of exchanges where it became clear that she also liked a lot of the music I happen to like and we got to be twitter-friendly. She was super excited when our London gear launched and she was even AT the Olympics this summer. We tried to meet up but our schedules never quite jived. Well then I made that trip up to Seattle and the planets aligned and she and I were able to meet up at a coffee shop near my brother's house. We ended up talking for almost three hours while my adorable nephew demonstrated that he is the world's best baby by being completely cool with playing on the floor. She was a complete delight and I left that day feeling like I had just met a kindred spirit.
I drove home from Utah on January 2nd and had to work on January 3rd. I got home late-ish and I was tired but one of my music blogger friends was doing a house show that night and another music blogger who lives in Chicago and who I've gotten to know over Twitter was at the show and we were really hoping to finally meet each other. So I threw in some laundry, combed my hair, tried to look less like a half dead road trip refugee and headed over to Heather's. I creeped in just as the show was ending and sat on the stairs scanning the crowd. I actually had no idea what Mr. Song For The Day looked like so I'm not sure what I was looking for. The applause died down and this super cute kid walked over and introduced himself (I tweet a lot of photos, sue me). We had a way too brief but quite fantastic discussion about music and jobs and relationships (we are experts at Twitter so we can say a lot of things quickly without a lot of words) and I left that night again feeling excited to have a new friend.
I have a lot more stories like this but these two recent ones right in a row made so clear a point I have been mulling around for a few years now. I'm a big fan of the internet, I'm sure that is obvious. But not because I'm using it to escape my real life. And I don't think my online interactions are infringing on my ability to connect with living, breathing people. I truly believe that if the internet is not enhancing your offline life, you are doing it wrong. The amount of people who have come into my life, or stayed in my life, or our relationships have deepened due to the internet is dizzying. If the internet is ruining your real life, that's on you friend, not on the information superhighway.
My friend Adam tweeted this song out this week. My friend Jess and I are now going to see these guys in March. Boom. I love you www.
Sometime last year-and neither of us are sure when or why-a girl in Seattle who loves the Olympics starting following me on Twitter. We had a couple of exchanges where it became clear that she also liked a lot of the music I happen to like and we got to be twitter-friendly. She was super excited when our London gear launched and she was even AT the Olympics this summer. We tried to meet up but our schedules never quite jived. Well then I made that trip up to Seattle and the planets aligned and she and I were able to meet up at a coffee shop near my brother's house. We ended up talking for almost three hours while my adorable nephew demonstrated that he is the world's best baby by being completely cool with playing on the floor. She was a complete delight and I left that day feeling like I had just met a kindred spirit.
I drove home from Utah on January 2nd and had to work on January 3rd. I got home late-ish and I was tired but one of my music blogger friends was doing a house show that night and another music blogger who lives in Chicago and who I've gotten to know over Twitter was at the show and we were really hoping to finally meet each other. So I threw in some laundry, combed my hair, tried to look less like a half dead road trip refugee and headed over to Heather's. I creeped in just as the show was ending and sat on the stairs scanning the crowd. I actually had no idea what Mr. Song For The Day looked like so I'm not sure what I was looking for. The applause died down and this super cute kid walked over and introduced himself (I tweet a lot of photos, sue me). We had a way too brief but quite fantastic discussion about music and jobs and relationships (we are experts at Twitter so we can say a lot of things quickly without a lot of words) and I left that night again feeling excited to have a new friend.
I have a lot more stories like this but these two recent ones right in a row made so clear a point I have been mulling around for a few years now. I'm a big fan of the internet, I'm sure that is obvious. But not because I'm using it to escape my real life. And I don't think my online interactions are infringing on my ability to connect with living, breathing people. I truly believe that if the internet is not enhancing your offline life, you are doing it wrong. The amount of people who have come into my life, or stayed in my life, or our relationships have deepened due to the internet is dizzying. If the internet is ruining your real life, that's on you friend, not on the information superhighway.
My friend Adam tweeted this song out this week. My friend Jess and I are now going to see these guys in March. Boom. I love you www.
Wednesday, January 09, 2013
Loop
Maybe this is going to sound like I am in kindergarten but a boy was mean to me last week and it made me cry.
I was texting with someone who, admittedly, falls under one of the my 2012 lessons learned and isn't a fella I should still be talking to. But sometimes habit keeps a person around even when your brain knows they are bad news.
What started as teasing quickly crossed a line and I found myself being treated to a list of reasons "you are still single". Apparently a guy I went out with a handful of times and who I text every few months has me all figured out. First he gave me a few examples of my faults, none of which were news to me. Then he told me something that I just know isn't true about myself no matter what kind of blind spot I might have into my own personality. In fact, it was something that is the antithesis of how anyone who is truly part of my life would describe me.
It happened right at the end of the day so I was alone in my office and even though I should have been able to brush it off, I couldn't manage to pull myself together. Sticks and stones may break my bones sure, but preying on the biggest fear of anyone who is alone and doesn't want to be anymore? I almost don't have words for how deep that cuts and how hard it is to shut that little "it's your fault" voice up once someone awakens it. There isn't an unattached person on earth who isn't a little bit afraid that something is just fundamentally wrong with them and that's why they are alone. I don't usually like it when people use social media to air their insecurities but I couldn't stop this rising sense of sadness that night and I posted a little bit about it on Facebook. My friends were kind enough to tell me the two things I already knew which were 1) I am not that thing he said he was and 2) everyone has flaws and mine aren't any more fatal than all the other plenty messed up people who manage to get married. I got some great messages on and offline from people who know and love me and that probably should have been that.
But I haven't been able to leave the experience alone. It's had me thinking about two things I'm becoming more and more convinced of the older I get.
First of all, mean behavior is dangerous. I am a fairly successful, well adjusted person with a wide network of support and still I have spent five days spinning on this thinking, "well even though all the people who really know me think I'm a good person, this guy must be seeing something no one else can and maybe he's right and it's all my fault I'm alone." If I was struggling with self-esteem or didn't have the right people around me to tell me to knock it off, or if I didn't have the life experience to know that I should immediately delete this guy and cut off further contact, I can only imagine what sort of power this kind of person might have over me. I think teenage girls are probably some of the most at-risk people for falling victim to this kind of thing. Somewhat coincidentally (maybe), I was thinking about this quite a bit at church on Sunday and at the end of the service, I was assigned to go to Girl's Camp with the teenagers in our congregation this summer. I know I only get a few days with these girls but I'm really feeling the responsibility of helping these girls develop the skills to get through some tough years without too many bruises.
Secondly, while I'm sure there are some hard headed people out there who really do think they are perfect, for the most part, aren't most of us painfully aware of the pointy parts of our personalities? And aren't most of us doing our best to work on them? It's hard hard work to fix things that we don't like about ourselves and it seems like our progress is rarely clear to people on the outside looking for reasons to judge us. For me, all my emotions are almost always bubbling right under the surface. It means I am both quick to get excited and quick to freak out. It's a constant struggle to keep that part of my personality balanced and I am not always doing it well. But I'm trying. I'm always trying. And I get disappointed in myself when it gets the better of me. I do not need to be reminded by casual observers that this is a thing that I do. I'm well aware. I've always loved that Jackson Browne song "These Days" and the line "do not confront me with my failures, I have not forgotten them".
So aside from doing more yoga and trying to eat less Chik-fil-a, my major resolution in 2013 is more patience with everyone. More patience with the people in my inner circle whose flaws I know intimately but who should get more benefit of the doubt than they do because I love them and I know what burdens they are carrying. And more patience for the world at large because I have no idea what is going on in their homes/jobs/relationships and how that might be causing them to irritate me in the line at Starbucks.
It's probably going to take a few more downward dogs and maybe some flirting with a stranger to get all of the sting out of this. I guess in a weird way I'm always glad for a reminder that the world is all set on snarkiness, irony, sarcasm and unkindness, as for me and my house, we will be nice(r).
I was texting with someone who, admittedly, falls under one of the my 2012 lessons learned and isn't a fella I should still be talking to. But sometimes habit keeps a person around even when your brain knows they are bad news.
What started as teasing quickly crossed a line and I found myself being treated to a list of reasons "you are still single". Apparently a guy I went out with a handful of times and who I text every few months has me all figured out. First he gave me a few examples of my faults, none of which were news to me. Then he told me something that I just know isn't true about myself no matter what kind of blind spot I might have into my own personality. In fact, it was something that is the antithesis of how anyone who is truly part of my life would describe me.
It happened right at the end of the day so I was alone in my office and even though I should have been able to brush it off, I couldn't manage to pull myself together. Sticks and stones may break my bones sure, but preying on the biggest fear of anyone who is alone and doesn't want to be anymore? I almost don't have words for how deep that cuts and how hard it is to shut that little "it's your fault" voice up once someone awakens it. There isn't an unattached person on earth who isn't a little bit afraid that something is just fundamentally wrong with them and that's why they are alone. I don't usually like it when people use social media to air their insecurities but I couldn't stop this rising sense of sadness that night and I posted a little bit about it on Facebook. My friends were kind enough to tell me the two things I already knew which were 1) I am not that thing he said he was and 2) everyone has flaws and mine aren't any more fatal than all the other plenty messed up people who manage to get married. I got some great messages on and offline from people who know and love me and that probably should have been that.
But I haven't been able to leave the experience alone. It's had me thinking about two things I'm becoming more and more convinced of the older I get.
First of all, mean behavior is dangerous. I am a fairly successful, well adjusted person with a wide network of support and still I have spent five days spinning on this thinking, "well even though all the people who really know me think I'm a good person, this guy must be seeing something no one else can and maybe he's right and it's all my fault I'm alone." If I was struggling with self-esteem or didn't have the right people around me to tell me to knock it off, or if I didn't have the life experience to know that I should immediately delete this guy and cut off further contact, I can only imagine what sort of power this kind of person might have over me. I think teenage girls are probably some of the most at-risk people for falling victim to this kind of thing. Somewhat coincidentally (maybe), I was thinking about this quite a bit at church on Sunday and at the end of the service, I was assigned to go to Girl's Camp with the teenagers in our congregation this summer. I know I only get a few days with these girls but I'm really feeling the responsibility of helping these girls develop the skills to get through some tough years without too many bruises.
Secondly, while I'm sure there are some hard headed people out there who really do think they are perfect, for the most part, aren't most of us painfully aware of the pointy parts of our personalities? And aren't most of us doing our best to work on them? It's hard hard work to fix things that we don't like about ourselves and it seems like our progress is rarely clear to people on the outside looking for reasons to judge us. For me, all my emotions are almost always bubbling right under the surface. It means I am both quick to get excited and quick to freak out. It's a constant struggle to keep that part of my personality balanced and I am not always doing it well. But I'm trying. I'm always trying. And I get disappointed in myself when it gets the better of me. I do not need to be reminded by casual observers that this is a thing that I do. I'm well aware. I've always loved that Jackson Browne song "These Days" and the line "do not confront me with my failures, I have not forgotten them".
So aside from doing more yoga and trying to eat less Chik-fil-a, my major resolution in 2013 is more patience with everyone. More patience with the people in my inner circle whose flaws I know intimately but who should get more benefit of the doubt than they do because I love them and I know what burdens they are carrying. And more patience for the world at large because I have no idea what is going on in their homes/jobs/relationships and how that might be causing them to irritate me in the line at Starbucks.
It's probably going to take a few more downward dogs and maybe some flirting with a stranger to get all of the sting out of this. I guess in a weird way I'm always glad for a reminder that the world is all set on snarkiness, irony, sarcasm and unkindness, as for me and my house, we will be nice(r).
Tuesday, January 01, 2013
Rear View Mirror
So I have been thinking all this week about what I really want to take out of 2012 and how to make some good and REAL changes in 2013 and how to write about all of the above. I started listing all the highlights of the year and it was sounding like braggy mcbraggerson and besides, good year, bad year, my hope is always that there was some sort of growth in any given year and there were plenty of lowlights in 2012 too. They just happened to be surrounded by things like skiing in Austria and chatting up LeBron James.
Thus, I present to you the five big lessons of 2012 in no particular order.
1. Travel now.
I think maybe because it took me a year to save up for the first big trip of my life (NYC for high school graduation) I got it in my head that travel was sort of this once in awhile, special thing that you planned extensively for and spent a fortune on. But the last few years I have been trying to say "yes" to things I once might have worried myself out of. I did absolutely everything I wanted to this year and if you are smart and you don't need to stay at the Ritz all the time, you can do really cool things and not destroy your nest egg. Travel has made me a more interesting person but it's also made me a more interested person and our ever shrinking world needs more brains that want to know the whys and ifs and hows of our neighbors.
2. Forgiveness is a thing. Taking care of yourself is also a thing.
I think I am finally finally getting the point that you can truly forgive someone-let go of past wrongs , quit being angry, move on with your life-but not put that person in a position to rock you again. My biggest dating hurdle has been hanging on forever, just hope hope hoping someone deserves that giant benefit of the doubt I keep giving him and well ladies, he probably doesn't. So you let go. There is no victory in continuing to give someone access to you who really shouldn't be in your life. This one is really tough but makes you feel like a badass if you can pull it off. (this says it all)
3. Bodies need rest. Especially old ones.
I worked really hard this year. I did a lot of FUN things this year. I did not sleep enough this year. That dumb college manta "sleep when you die" gets in my head and I tend to push past what is probably healthy. It doesn't help that I rarely regret the fun things I do instead of getting to bed. However. As my doctor gleefully reminded me, if I would like to keep doing fun things when I'm old and/or you know, grow a baby at some point, I need to be better about sleep. And leafy greens. It might mean a little more discipline and a little bit more NO that I know how to say but I would like to still be traveling and forgiving when I'm 80 so I'm willing to bank a little more rest now to get there.
4. Family first.
I knew this one. And then the busiest year of my life happened and my brother did an Ironman, my uncle died, my nephews moved to relatively inconvenient places and my sister got pregnant and it seemed like everything black and white got grey. I wrote about my decision to go to my uncle's funeral and at the time it really did seem like a difficult choice. Six months later with the pressure of the Olympics a distant memory, I'm relieved that I never have to say I wasn't there for my dad because I had a lot of packing to do. That 36 hour trip is a very sweet highlight of the year as is Logan's race weekend. I will never forget sitting in a hotel room in London, Emily telling me they might have to cancel their trip to Paris and starting to cry hysterically. Even in the center of 2012 awesomeness, all I wanted was to see my sister. I don't ever want to lose that perspective.
5. A job is a job is a job
I spent wayyyyyy to much of 2012 stressed out. I got on a plane to Austria on January 5 and I didn't feel like the pace slowed down until October. I put an enormous amount of pressure on myself to kill it this year and didn't do a great job of having outlets to channel the stress and worry. I have a prescription sheet from my doctor that actually says "yoga and meditation 3 times a week". My sister-in-law Tasha and I did a ton of yoga while I was in St. George and I even went on Christmas Eve. Just these few weeks of taking some time to be still and clear out my mind has calmed me down in ways I didn't think my frenetic personality could be tamed. So I think I'll be obeying the Doc.
In 2013 I want a little bit more perspective. A little more breathing. A little less of the world on my shoulders. I feel like maybe 1-5 were lessons I took a long time to learn but I'm trying to put them all into practice in meaningful ways so I don't forget.
And if the universe is cool with it, I'd sure like to fall in love in 2013. Neither the world nor Katie Clifford needs another break up song.
Happy New Year.
Thus, I present to you the five big lessons of 2012 in no particular order.
1. Travel now.
I think maybe because it took me a year to save up for the first big trip of my life (NYC for high school graduation) I got it in my head that travel was sort of this once in awhile, special thing that you planned extensively for and spent a fortune on. But the last few years I have been trying to say "yes" to things I once might have worried myself out of. I did absolutely everything I wanted to this year and if you are smart and you don't need to stay at the Ritz all the time, you can do really cool things and not destroy your nest egg. Travel has made me a more interesting person but it's also made me a more interested person and our ever shrinking world needs more brains that want to know the whys and ifs and hows of our neighbors.
2. Forgiveness is a thing. Taking care of yourself is also a thing.
I think I am finally finally getting the point that you can truly forgive someone-let go of past wrongs , quit being angry, move on with your life-but not put that person in a position to rock you again. My biggest dating hurdle has been hanging on forever, just hope hope hoping someone deserves that giant benefit of the doubt I keep giving him and well ladies, he probably doesn't. So you let go. There is no victory in continuing to give someone access to you who really shouldn't be in your life. This one is really tough but makes you feel like a badass if you can pull it off. (this says it all)
3. Bodies need rest. Especially old ones.
I worked really hard this year. I did a lot of FUN things this year. I did not sleep enough this year. That dumb college manta "sleep when you die" gets in my head and I tend to push past what is probably healthy. It doesn't help that I rarely regret the fun things I do instead of getting to bed. However. As my doctor gleefully reminded me, if I would like to keep doing fun things when I'm old and/or you know, grow a baby at some point, I need to be better about sleep. And leafy greens. It might mean a little more discipline and a little bit more NO that I know how to say but I would like to still be traveling and forgiving when I'm 80 so I'm willing to bank a little more rest now to get there.
4. Family first.
I knew this one. And then the busiest year of my life happened and my brother did an Ironman, my uncle died, my nephews moved to relatively inconvenient places and my sister got pregnant and it seemed like everything black and white got grey. I wrote about my decision to go to my uncle's funeral and at the time it really did seem like a difficult choice. Six months later with the pressure of the Olympics a distant memory, I'm relieved that I never have to say I wasn't there for my dad because I had a lot of packing to do. That 36 hour trip is a very sweet highlight of the year as is Logan's race weekend. I will never forget sitting in a hotel room in London, Emily telling me they might have to cancel their trip to Paris and starting to cry hysterically. Even in the center of 2012 awesomeness, all I wanted was to see my sister. I don't ever want to lose that perspective.
5. A job is a job is a job
I spent wayyyyyy to much of 2012 stressed out. I got on a plane to Austria on January 5 and I didn't feel like the pace slowed down until October. I put an enormous amount of pressure on myself to kill it this year and didn't do a great job of having outlets to channel the stress and worry. I have a prescription sheet from my doctor that actually says "yoga and meditation 3 times a week". My sister-in-law Tasha and I did a ton of yoga while I was in St. George and I even went on Christmas Eve. Just these few weeks of taking some time to be still and clear out my mind has calmed me down in ways I didn't think my frenetic personality could be tamed. So I think I'll be obeying the Doc.
In 2013 I want a little bit more perspective. A little more breathing. A little less of the world on my shoulders. I feel like maybe 1-5 were lessons I took a long time to learn but I'm trying to put them all into practice in meaningful ways so I don't forget.
And if the universe is cool with it, I'd sure like to fall in love in 2013. Neither the world nor Katie Clifford needs another break up song.
Happy New Year.
Friday, December 28, 2012
Summer lovin'
I've been a little under the weather while here in Utah so I've spent a fair amount of time watching movies and catching up on the internet.
And also creeping through my sister's photos from our Paris trip. It's blowing my brain a little bit that it was a year ago she and I were discussing whether or not we were really going to do it. It was such a beautiful trip but I've already determined I need to go again with better hair and cuter clothes. But I'll definitely take a tall dark and handsome boy again-makes the photos way more fun ; )
Anyway I found a couple of fun ones I hadn't seen. Got me daydreaming about what 2013 might bring…
And also creeping through my sister's photos from our Paris trip. It's blowing my brain a little bit that it was a year ago she and I were discussing whether or not we were really going to do it. It was such a beautiful trip but I've already determined I need to go again with better hair and cuter clothes. But I'll definitely take a tall dark and handsome boy again-makes the photos way more fun ; )
Anyway I found a couple of fun ones I hadn't seen. Got me daydreaming about what 2013 might bring…
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| Our guide made us do this at Versaille. I'm pretty glad we obeyed. |
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| Between this trip and our winter travels, Lance I actually spent a fair amount of time like this. |
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| I just love everything about this one. That neighborhood was magic, it's Amelie's restaurant, we look kind of awesome. Just love it. |
Saturday, December 22, 2012
Face it
This is pretty much all I am doing this week
Getting to see all these faces in the space of two weeks is really too much. (If you think the pressure is on to have cute kids, it's true. LOOK AT THESE GUYS!)
Good grief.
Thursday, December 13, 2012
Auntie Em
A few months ago my brother called to ask if I would come up to Seattle to take care of my 11 month old nephew while he and my sister-in-law took their three year old to Canada to learn to ski. I jumped at the chance to get some concentrated Aunt time with Brady and thank you insane year of travel, I booked a ticket with my miles and took a few days off work.
It was only once I was actually airborne that I started thinking about how long it had been since I had been alone with a tiny human for longer than a few hours. At least ten years. I made a list in my head of things I didn't know-what do kids that age eat? How many naps do they take? Are they supposed to sleep through the night? Do you put them to sleep on their backs with a bottle? Or their tummies with a blankie?
These are question that most women my age can answer. Questions all the girls I used to babysit can answer.
I have gotten to a be a really, really good Aunt since Morgan appeared on the scene. I keep the boys in ridiculous tiny Nikes they will outgrow almost instantly, I chase them around the house and follow them up trees and put them on my shoulders and make silly faces, I take them to run an errand and let them eat an entire unauthorized cinnamon roll. I like to read bedtime stories and I can do all the voices, I make a lot of silly faces and I let them win at foot races. I tickle them but I stop before it's not fun anymore. I respect their space if they prefer it. I know you can't go wrong with Lightening McQueen. I'm good at whispering and telling jokes. I'm a pretty killer non-parent.
So as I'm watching the morning routine of "Garrett eat three more bites" and "please put those away" and the production it is for even my very skilled brother and sister-in-law to get two adults and a three year old out the door I was nervous.
I didn't take a shower. I didn't actually manage to ever put a bra on either but my friend Melissa was coming by with her 6 week old so I made Brady a deal that if he would play while I put on make-up I wouldn't even worry about still being in my pajamas. Melissa came. She looks fabulous. Like the same tiny waist she had when I met her in a Boston church lobby eight years ago. She has two kids and she manages Communications for a University but here she is all long glamorous hair and cute shoes six weeks after giving birth. We talk and giggle and gossip and when I put Brady down for a nap and he cries, she teaches me how to tell from his tone if he's tired crying or really sad crying. Once we determine it's the sad crying I bring him back downstairs and for once in my life I visit with another adult woman while trying to keep an unsteady baby out of trouble. I like the way it feels that I can manage to do both.
Melissa leaves to pick up her other little guy from school and Brady and I decide to brave the rain and go for a walk. I put a big coat over my pajamas and after what feels like a hundred years we have a stroller and socks and shoes and hats and we set off. They live close to a street full of shops and restaurants so we buy a present for Brady's soon-to-be girl cousin in Salt Lake. I take him to the famous music store where Pearl Jam has played. He is a good and patient baby while I check a few things out on the listening station that makes me wish there were more music stores and listening stations even though I know my own addictions to Shazam and mobile iTunes are the very reasons there are fewer music stores with listening stations.
We find a deli that can accommodate Brady's stroller. He drinks a bottle while I wait for my sandwich. I accidentally give him a chip that is lightly salted with jalepeno flavoring and feel grateful that no one can see the horrible face he makes before he spits it out. Rookie mistake. These are the kinds of mistakes I imagine new moms make and feel guilty about and veteran moms make and laugh about.
We go home and he is tired enough there is no crying when I put him to bed. I clean the house, finally take a shower and go to bed with a book and I'm passed out by 10:30. He needs a bottle at 3 and as I hold him in the dark house with my eyes drooping, calculating how much sleep I can get before he's wide awake for the day I think, I can't imagine doing this alone. How much better this probably is if there is someone you can nudge and tell "this one is yours". In the daylight you might have teachers and sitters and friends and people who can help but in the dark and quiet it's just you to figure out why he's crying and if you are doing this right and I bet those nights are just as scary as the ones where you stare at the ceiling and wonder if anyone will ever stare at that ceiling with you.
The next day my friend Jen is coming over. She has a four year old and a law practice but he is with his dad this weekend and so she's kidnapping us to go to a museum. Because Brady is 11 months so he can look at art just as easily as he can not watch television. She breezes in and helps me deal with car seats and diaper bags and makes sure I don't forget to put his coat back on when we leave. We look at art. We catch up. We brave a pub across the street. When we walk in and I smile at a group of young men and I realize that the young men don't smile back at the lady with a baby the way I am used to young men smiling at me. I think about my St. George sister-in-law and the haircut she wanted to get when her third baby came and her stylist said, "there are plenty of things to make you feel like a mom, keep your glamorous hair so you can still feel like a woman." And she did and she's a mom, and you don't want young men to smile at you when you are a mom like they did when you were single but I think maybe you still want them to want to.
I go home feeling terribly satisfied with our adventures. I have good intentions to get us back out the door for dinner but then The Proposal is on so I order Thai food and I sit with a baby on my lap and it's far less stressful than trying to figure out how to have SO MUCH FUN every single Saturday night. Brady sleeps well. We both do.
We have a lazy Sunday and then his parents come home and he's forgotten all about me. My brother makes the spaghetti that has been our favorite since we were kids. We read Garrett books that used to be ours and then everyone is tired.
I leave the next day and when I land in Denver, I am met with that quiet I never really know what to do with. It was 1:30 in the afternoon on a Monday and I had nowhere to be so I rode on the moving sidewalk from one end of the terminal to the other and thought about quiet.
In a lot of ways these two days were like my summer. I was tired and not entirely sure if I was doing things right and I have this suspicion that parenting is like managing and event where 100 people would like to tell you how much better it would be if you did it THIS way and hardly anyone says thank you but then the kid stops crying when you walk into his room because he knows you are going to take care of whatever it is that made him cry and when he reaches up his little arms for you to pick him up it's fine that you have to clean up so much poop and you can't really go to shows on weeknights anymore and it takes so damn long to get out the door because that kid needs so much stuff. My friend's "16 hours of hell for one hour of glory" description of the Olympics felt apt.
And this is not a new concept and I am not the first one to come up with it but this weekend left me even more convinced that it's so important to be engaged in what your life is right now. Mourning the past or stressing about the future or being upset about the place you are in-it ruins everything. Where my life is right now, where I work long hours and take fun trips and sometimes skip church to go skiing-this is the life I'll be awfully glad I had if (when?) I'm feeding a baby at 3 in the morning. I don't want my friends in mommyland to wish they had my life and I don't want to feel like I'm supposed to wish I had theirs.
As usual, I'm going to cruise into Christmas vacation entirely on fumes. It's my yearly measure that I'm doing life right.
It was only once I was actually airborne that I started thinking about how long it had been since I had been alone with a tiny human for longer than a few hours. At least ten years. I made a list in my head of things I didn't know-what do kids that age eat? How many naps do they take? Are they supposed to sleep through the night? Do you put them to sleep on their backs with a bottle? Or their tummies with a blankie?
These are question that most women my age can answer. Questions all the girls I used to babysit can answer.
I have gotten to a be a really, really good Aunt since Morgan appeared on the scene. I keep the boys in ridiculous tiny Nikes they will outgrow almost instantly, I chase them around the house and follow them up trees and put them on my shoulders and make silly faces, I take them to run an errand and let them eat an entire unauthorized cinnamon roll. I like to read bedtime stories and I can do all the voices, I make a lot of silly faces and I let them win at foot races. I tickle them but I stop before it's not fun anymore. I respect their space if they prefer it. I know you can't go wrong with Lightening McQueen. I'm good at whispering and telling jokes. I'm a pretty killer non-parent.
So as I'm watching the morning routine of "Garrett eat three more bites" and "please put those away" and the production it is for even my very skilled brother and sister-in-law to get two adults and a three year old out the door I was nervous.
I didn't take a shower. I didn't actually manage to ever put a bra on either but my friend Melissa was coming by with her 6 week old so I made Brady a deal that if he would play while I put on make-up I wouldn't even worry about still being in my pajamas. Melissa came. She looks fabulous. Like the same tiny waist she had when I met her in a Boston church lobby eight years ago. She has two kids and she manages Communications for a University but here she is all long glamorous hair and cute shoes six weeks after giving birth. We talk and giggle and gossip and when I put Brady down for a nap and he cries, she teaches me how to tell from his tone if he's tired crying or really sad crying. Once we determine it's the sad crying I bring him back downstairs and for once in my life I visit with another adult woman while trying to keep an unsteady baby out of trouble. I like the way it feels that I can manage to do both.
Melissa leaves to pick up her other little guy from school and Brady and I decide to brave the rain and go for a walk. I put a big coat over my pajamas and after what feels like a hundred years we have a stroller and socks and shoes and hats and we set off. They live close to a street full of shops and restaurants so we buy a present for Brady's soon-to-be girl cousin in Salt Lake. I take him to the famous music store where Pearl Jam has played. He is a good and patient baby while I check a few things out on the listening station that makes me wish there were more music stores and listening stations even though I know my own addictions to Shazam and mobile iTunes are the very reasons there are fewer music stores with listening stations.
We find a deli that can accommodate Brady's stroller. He drinks a bottle while I wait for my sandwich. I accidentally give him a chip that is lightly salted with jalepeno flavoring and feel grateful that no one can see the horrible face he makes before he spits it out. Rookie mistake. These are the kinds of mistakes I imagine new moms make and feel guilty about and veteran moms make and laugh about.
We go home and he is tired enough there is no crying when I put him to bed. I clean the house, finally take a shower and go to bed with a book and I'm passed out by 10:30. He needs a bottle at 3 and as I hold him in the dark house with my eyes drooping, calculating how much sleep I can get before he's wide awake for the day I think, I can't imagine doing this alone. How much better this probably is if there is someone you can nudge and tell "this one is yours". In the daylight you might have teachers and sitters and friends and people who can help but in the dark and quiet it's just you to figure out why he's crying and if you are doing this right and I bet those nights are just as scary as the ones where you stare at the ceiling and wonder if anyone will ever stare at that ceiling with you.
The next day my friend Jen is coming over. She has a four year old and a law practice but he is with his dad this weekend and so she's kidnapping us to go to a museum. Because Brady is 11 months so he can look at art just as easily as he can not watch television. She breezes in and helps me deal with car seats and diaper bags and makes sure I don't forget to put his coat back on when we leave. We look at art. We catch up. We brave a pub across the street. When we walk in and I smile at a group of young men and I realize that the young men don't smile back at the lady with a baby the way I am used to young men smiling at me. I think about my St. George sister-in-law and the haircut she wanted to get when her third baby came and her stylist said, "there are plenty of things to make you feel like a mom, keep your glamorous hair so you can still feel like a woman." And she did and she's a mom, and you don't want young men to smile at you when you are a mom like they did when you were single but I think maybe you still want them to want to.
I go home feeling terribly satisfied with our adventures. I have good intentions to get us back out the door for dinner but then The Proposal is on so I order Thai food and I sit with a baby on my lap and it's far less stressful than trying to figure out how to have SO MUCH FUN every single Saturday night. Brady sleeps well. We both do.
We have a lazy Sunday and then his parents come home and he's forgotten all about me. My brother makes the spaghetti that has been our favorite since we were kids. We read Garrett books that used to be ours and then everyone is tired.
I leave the next day and when I land in Denver, I am met with that quiet I never really know what to do with. It was 1:30 in the afternoon on a Monday and I had nowhere to be so I rode on the moving sidewalk from one end of the terminal to the other and thought about quiet.
In a lot of ways these two days were like my summer. I was tired and not entirely sure if I was doing things right and I have this suspicion that parenting is like managing and event where 100 people would like to tell you how much better it would be if you did it THIS way and hardly anyone says thank you but then the kid stops crying when you walk into his room because he knows you are going to take care of whatever it is that made him cry and when he reaches up his little arms for you to pick him up it's fine that you have to clean up so much poop and you can't really go to shows on weeknights anymore and it takes so damn long to get out the door because that kid needs so much stuff. My friend's "16 hours of hell for one hour of glory" description of the Olympics felt apt.
And this is not a new concept and I am not the first one to come up with it but this weekend left me even more convinced that it's so important to be engaged in what your life is right now. Mourning the past or stressing about the future or being upset about the place you are in-it ruins everything. Where my life is right now, where I work long hours and take fun trips and sometimes skip church to go skiing-this is the life I'll be awfully glad I had if (when?) I'm feeding a baby at 3 in the morning. I don't want my friends in mommyland to wish they had my life and I don't want to feel like I'm supposed to wish I had theirs.
As usual, I'm going to cruise into Christmas vacation entirely on fumes. It's my yearly measure that I'm doing life right.
Sunday, December 02, 2012
Flashback
Christmas 2003. My dear dear friend Keith, who I had been spending nearly all my time with that year, and I drove from California to Utah together for the holidays. I had just met a guy a few weeks earlier that I was very excited about and I was going to be moving to Boston pretty much the instant I got back from the break. Needless to say, it was an emotional season.
Keith was the first person I knew with an iPod and we figured out how to make it work in my car. We set off super early in the morning and had about 10 hours of talking and laughing with someone who at the time probably knew me better than anyone else on earth. Keith was the boy who taught me that we probably have dozens of soulmates and that they aren't always romantic.
We listened to Death Cab for Cutie on the 405 and a fantastic This American Life segment on fiascos in the Gorge between Las Vegas and St. George. We took turns driving. At one point Keith fell asleep and I took goofy photos of him WITH MY FILM CAMERA. I still have one of those prints in a box somewhere and the sight his mop of red hair splayed out all over the pillow in the front seat always tugs at my heart just a little bit.
Keith used to make Christmas mixes and because of that iPod, we had tons of holiday tunes to keep us company as well. One of them was a song called "Just Like Christmas" by the band Low. It became one of my all-time favorite Christmas songs. It's fun and upbeat and what could possible sound better than Christmas in Sweden?
So this February I was doing my hair in a hotel room in Amsterdam while Dr. Lance was out getting breakfast and a rogue holiday song started playing on my iPhone. I don't know who gave me a David Bazan cover of "Just Like Christmas" but instead of skipping it I let it go and pretty soon I was not really doing my hair anymore but trying to control my tears.
I got a chance to see David Bazan play a living room show earlier this year thanks to my pal Heather. Afterwards I went up and told him how much I loved his cover of this song. He got all excited and told me he had recorded that for an AV Club Undercover special edition of Holiday songs and what a fun experience it has been. I am a huge fan of the Undercover series, Christmas music, nice musicians and extra nice memories so I'm certain this version of that song will be on every holiday playlist I make for the rest of forever.
So in the spirit of the time of year I love the very most-Here are just a couple more of my favorites.
Seryn-Go Tell it on the Mountain
I fell in love with Seryn in a tiny club in Colorado Springs last summer. This version of Go Tell it on the Mountain is so good it's actually lodged firmly in the top 25 list of most played songs on my iTunes.
The Band-Christmas Must Be Tonight
Should I even need to explain why a holiday song by The Band is awesome?
Amy Grant-Love Has Come
Thanks to my mother I believe I know every word to every song on every Amy Grant Christmas Album. I honestly can't tell anymore if they are even good but just hearing the first few bars of this song I am 12 years old belting it out in the living room while babysitting. My roommate Brenda and I got to see this live a few years ago and meet Amy afterwards. Holidays probably could have ended that year and I'd be fine.
Barenaked Ladies and Sarah Mclachlan-God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen
I never, ever get tired of this version of this song. Ever. It's so fun and features the two artists that feature VERY prominently in the soundtrack of my college life.
Sufjan Stevens-Come Thou Fount of Every Blessing
This isn't reall a Christmas song but Sufjan Stevens put it on his massive holiday collection years ago and it's actually probably my favorite one now. I have a BYU choir version of this song that is much more epic and I love that one too but there is something about this version that gets right into my bloodstream. The lyrics of this song are a fairly perfect description of my faith and I will never forget the hour I spent once upon a time listening to the director the MTC choir explain it to a bunch of homesick missionaries. No wonder everyone who goes on a mission ends up wishing this was in our hymn book.
Keith was the first person I knew with an iPod and we figured out how to make it work in my car. We set off super early in the morning and had about 10 hours of talking and laughing with someone who at the time probably knew me better than anyone else on earth. Keith was the boy who taught me that we probably have dozens of soulmates and that they aren't always romantic.
We listened to Death Cab for Cutie on the 405 and a fantastic This American Life segment on fiascos in the Gorge between Las Vegas and St. George. We took turns driving. At one point Keith fell asleep and I took goofy photos of him WITH MY FILM CAMERA. I still have one of those prints in a box somewhere and the sight his mop of red hair splayed out all over the pillow in the front seat always tugs at my heart just a little bit.
Keith used to make Christmas mixes and because of that iPod, we had tons of holiday tunes to keep us company as well. One of them was a song called "Just Like Christmas" by the band Low. It became one of my all-time favorite Christmas songs. It's fun and upbeat and what could possible sound better than Christmas in Sweden?
So this February I was doing my hair in a hotel room in Amsterdam while Dr. Lance was out getting breakfast and a rogue holiday song started playing on my iPhone. I don't know who gave me a David Bazan cover of "Just Like Christmas" but instead of skipping it I let it go and pretty soon I was not really doing my hair anymore but trying to control my tears.
I got a chance to see David Bazan play a living room show earlier this year thanks to my pal Heather. Afterwards I went up and told him how much I loved his cover of this song. He got all excited and told me he had recorded that for an AV Club Undercover special edition of Holiday songs and what a fun experience it has been. I am a huge fan of the Undercover series, Christmas music, nice musicians and extra nice memories so I'm certain this version of that song will be on every holiday playlist I make for the rest of forever.
So in the spirit of the time of year I love the very most-Here are just a couple more of my favorites.
Seryn-Go Tell it on the Mountain
I fell in love with Seryn in a tiny club in Colorado Springs last summer. This version of Go Tell it on the Mountain is so good it's actually lodged firmly in the top 25 list of most played songs on my iTunes.
The Band-Christmas Must Be Tonight
Should I even need to explain why a holiday song by The Band is awesome?
Amy Grant-Love Has Come
Thanks to my mother I believe I know every word to every song on every Amy Grant Christmas Album. I honestly can't tell anymore if they are even good but just hearing the first few bars of this song I am 12 years old belting it out in the living room while babysitting. My roommate Brenda and I got to see this live a few years ago and meet Amy afterwards. Holidays probably could have ended that year and I'd be fine.
Barenaked Ladies and Sarah Mclachlan-God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen
I never, ever get tired of this version of this song. Ever. It's so fun and features the two artists that feature VERY prominently in the soundtrack of my college life.
Sufjan Stevens-Come Thou Fount of Every Blessing
This isn't reall a Christmas song but Sufjan Stevens put it on his massive holiday collection years ago and it's actually probably my favorite one now. I have a BYU choir version of this song that is much more epic and I love that one too but there is something about this version that gets right into my bloodstream. The lyrics of this song are a fairly perfect description of my faith and I will never forget the hour I spent once upon a time listening to the director the MTC choir explain it to a bunch of homesick missionaries. No wonder everyone who goes on a mission ends up wishing this was in our hymn book.
Friday, November 30, 2012
Stomp it Clean
One of the reasons I had so much fun this summer was that I had a really, really outstanding staff working for me at Team Processing.
In an attempt to make Processing better for our teams, I had the coach of the US Halfpipe team join the staff. He has been coaching Olympic teams for a long time and has been on the other side of the fence a number of times so he gave me great insights on what we could do to improve things. He also worked his BUTT off for me. As you can imagine, a snowboard coach is probably the polar opposite of me in terms of personality and it was really nice to have his calm presence during all the intensity.
He did a couple of videos for our Team USA YouTube channel to teach folks how to do some tricks this winter. It's my fondest wish to land a jump this season so I've been watching his clips like a fiend. So if you would like to learn how to jump as well, you can't do better than learning it from this guy. His advice to me?
"All you gotta do is let it fly and enjoy the ride... just make sure you STOMP IT CLEAN!!! ;-)"
In an attempt to make Processing better for our teams, I had the coach of the US Halfpipe team join the staff. He has been coaching Olympic teams for a long time and has been on the other side of the fence a number of times so he gave me great insights on what we could do to improve things. He also worked his BUTT off for me. As you can imagine, a snowboard coach is probably the polar opposite of me in terms of personality and it was really nice to have his calm presence during all the intensity.
He did a couple of videos for our Team USA YouTube channel to teach folks how to do some tricks this winter. It's my fondest wish to land a jump this season so I've been watching his clips like a fiend. So if you would like to learn how to jump as well, you can't do better than learning it from this guy. His advice to me?
"All you gotta do is let it fly and enjoy the ride... just make sure you STOMP IT CLEAN!!! ;-)"
Wednesday, November 28, 2012
Better things
“You can spend minutes, hours, days, weeks, or even months over-analyzing a situation; trying to put the pieces together, justifying what could've, would've happened... or you can just leave the pieces on the floor and move the f**k on.”
Tupac Shakur
Tis the season for the floor being a mess. In the best possible way.
Monday, November 19, 2012
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