Rhubarb Sky

When I was about 6 or 7 years old, my mom decided it was time for me to move on from Carole King’s Tapestry  and gifted me a few cassettes at Christmas time. Actually, she made it seem as though the dogs had given them to me. . . she signed their names and was known to actually place dirty paw prints on the tags to make it feel really authentic. Looking back, it was Rally, Sunshine and Pumpkin that had a problem with the cassettes I was blaring in the early ’80′s. They’d had ENOUGH with the Free to Be You and Me and Sesame Street albums and purchased me some REAL rock.  And thus, I was introduced to Heart. Mom thrust the Seattle music scene (the GIRL Seattle music scene, no less!) right into my lap. I’d play and then rewind and then play and then rewind the song “Dog and Butterfly” until the tape was thin. (I still really love that song.)

So, when Abby got an MP3 player for her 7th birthday on Monday (Thanks Gran and Bunky!), it should be not so surprising what she’s choosing to load on the thing.  Here are a few of the highlights of what she’s requested:

“Can you please put Heart on it? Any album with Crazy on You.”

“Um, White Stripes. . . Elephant!”

“Oh, and the Cars soundtrack?”

. . . . . I suppose 2 outta 3 is pretty good.

Abby’s birthday is the day before Valentine’s Day. . . so, we sort of gloss over it here (v-day, NOT the birthday). But, we do try to make something nice for her buddies at school.
This year, she made 25 origami heart bookmarks to attach to a picture of herself. :)

 Last year we did a picture of Abby giving a pencil to the valentine recipient.

 More on the epic rainbow birthday party later this week. (It was EPIC!).

Juliana and I are hitting the pretend road again. Last week we “went” to New Orleans.  This week, it’s Key West. . . and this time, we’ve picked out some souvenirs!  Go check it out over on Juliana’s blog.

Someone turns 7 a week from today.  Holychristhowdidshegetthisold?!?  And, her very sweet “god sissy” turns 4. And, thus, another round of birthday shirts is in order.

See the 6th birthday shirts and the 5th birthday shirts.

My friend, Juliana and I  both just needed to get away. Since we’re several states away from each other and so totally cannot actually get away, we are taking a virtual roadtrip. And we’re doing it through music. . .

A destination.

A few photos.

A lot of songs.

Every wednesday we’re “going” someplace new. This week it was New Orleans. Next week, Key West.

Go check out the goods here.  And play along if you’d like. It’s gonna be a trip. (ha!).

My local paper was kind enough to publish another article that I wrote. This one is about raising service-minded kids.  You can read the article by clicking on the pdf below.

Here’s a teaser:

Raising service-minded kids starts with how we live our day to day lives and how we treat others. Children definitely do what we do and not always what we say. So, whatever you choose to do with your kids, the most important thing is to do something, anything that makes this world even a tiny bit better.

Service-Minded Kids 1.22.12

Snowy Sunrise

I’ve been plugging along. Taking care of myself. Not fighting the depression, because fighting doesn’t help me. It’s more of a quiet acceptance, coupled with forward motion toward health. It’s exhausting trying to fight it. More exhausting even than the actual depths of depression. So, I move about my days looking for small victories.

A day without tears.
An afternoon that I don’t snap at the kiddo.
An hour that I laugh more than I cry.

I lower the bar for myself. I usually operate with such high standards that it’s hard for me to let go of so much and just be. Because just being is enough. I try to treat myself with the kindness I would offer a friend who felt like this. I go through my “to do” list and delete mercilessly. I prioritize my child, my husband, my health. That’s it.

Part of my march toward health is an actual march. I’ve been walking 5 days a week with a dear friend for over two years. She comes and faithfully drags my butt outside. She patiently walks slower than usual when I’m not up to our normal quick clip. She listens when I rant. And, I do the same for her when I’m on my game. She’s a sister to me.

So, we’re out walking last week and she tells me about this crazy dream she’d had the night before.

She went outside to check on her chickens and was overwhelmed by what she saw. Put simply, she saw shit. Piles of it. Small shit, big shit. Buckets of shit all over the place in her yard. A steaming pile of elephant shit. Dung everywhere. She was completely surrounded. She couldn’t believe someone would come to her yard, her home and leave so much crap in her path. Everywhere she looked, there was shit. Just as she was going to back away and hide inside, she realized something so important. She looked out and saw that her sidewalk was completely clear.

Despite all of the crap that had been thrown at her, she had a clear path straight ahead.

“It was so real, Carrie. I was convinced I would find piles of shit along my sidewalk when I went outside after I woke up.” But in the end, even if it HAD been real, she had the presence of mind to see a way out. . . to notice that not all ways were blocked.

I was gobsmacked by this image. A clear path. It loosened something in me. . . cracked a little bit of the hold I’ve been under. And, I laughed. I mean, I really laughed. My friend giggled too. And we walked through a windy day and waved at the same people we pass every day and I thought:

I can focus on the crap, or I can focus on the path.

Knowing what’s best for me doesn’t change the chemical imbalance that happens with depression, but it DOES help me lose a bit of the feeling that I’m completely helpless.

I’m feeling better. I still want to rent all of the horror movies and buy all of the skittles, but I am on the right path. I see light ahead and humor and love.

And, I’m full of gratitude.

And we were running.
For a reason.
Left our cubicles in little flaming piles.
And we were running.
For a reason.

I need to feel something different for just a little while.

What comes will come.
What goes will go.
The wind will blow where the wind is blowing.
Let go of where you think you’re going.
We’ll never know why it flows where it’s flowing.

We’ve always been what we will always be.