Friends Archives - Page 5 of 9 - Enjoying the Small Things

To Thine Own Self Be True.

October 21, 2010 By Kelle

This above all: to thine own self be true,
And it must follow, as the night the day,
Thou canst not then be false to any man.
Farewell, my blessing season this in thee!

~Shakespeare

Please watch THIS to begin.

I am so excited to promote Dove’s Self Esteem Movement and to invite you to participate with me this weekend in the first ever Dove Self Esteem Weekend where one hour of your time can make a difference. Visit this site to find ideas for self esteem activities you can participate in over the weekend and place on a map. By joining this movement, we are being asked…what do you know now that you wish you would have known at 13?

The women and girls featured in this post are all beautiful souls I happen to know and love. Thank you to all of them…for answering an e-mail all-call and showing up the next day to be photographed.

What do I wish I could tell my 13-year old self?

To Thine Own Self Be True.

I am a woman. Someone’s daughter. A lady, a girl, a female, a what-have-you, but I join the other millions of double-x chromosomed beings in this amazing place called womanhood. And while I have walked years on this Kotex-buying, perfume-sampling, leg-shaving, tear-jerking, hand-holding, nail-painting, hair-dyeing, love-falling, soul-satisfying path, it wasn’t until I was lying on a table holding Brett’s hand watching a wand circle over my jellied belly and hearing the nurse say “Right there…yup, it’s a girl” that it hit me. This being-a-girl thing.

It’s one thing to find yourself, to know yourself, to love yourself and dwell confidently as a woman in a world that can seem to gnaw at your perceptions with expectations to be smarter, prettier, richer, funnier, faster, better, different from any marvelous thing you already are.

But, how will I raise my girls to know this? How will I teach them to believe that they are as amazing as I know them to be?

I wish I could have known what I know now back then.

When I wore Escape perfume just because I heard the guy I liked loved it when really, it was too sweet for me and gave me an asphyxiating headache every time I wore it.

When I drew in a mole above my lip with a chocolate eyeliner because Cindy Crawford had one, and everybody thought she was pretty.

When I cried because my mom bought me knock-off Keds instead of the real ones and I thought everyone would think I wasn’t cool. At least not cool like Jorie Kutzy because she had the real blue label on hers.

When I wore long shirts that covered the butt of my jeans because I thought it made me look less fat.

I wish I would have known that Confidence is Beautiful.

I wish I could take that girl I was and tell her from my grown-up self…

Be yourself. You will stand out. I promise. Just be you.

In my thirties, through both the joys and hardships of my life, I feel I am finally arriving to the very comfortable place of knowing myself, accepting myself, and celebrating the intricate infrastructure of assets and flaws, talents and fears, strengths and struggles. I own them and revere them.

The women I think as most beautiful in life are always, always…the confident ones. And the traits I remember about my favorite people are never their waistline or their face symmetrics, how well they did in school or how much money their parents made. No, it’s their infectious laughter. The way they scrunch up their nose when they smile. The way they freely dance, run to hold a baby, sing off-tune, rock out Navaho jewelry at a black-tie event, compliment others, accept a compliment, look for beauty and believe in who they are without any apology. The way they proudly, beautifully swim against the current.

Don’t quite fit in? Fantastic. Not like everyone else? Even better. Curves? Embrace them. Freckles? Love them. Braces? Own them. Laugh lines? Rock them. Take everything you are–your background, your family, your history, your story, your community, your style, your job, your dreams, your talents, your body, your humor, your sorrow, your joys and make them yours. Be ashamed of nothing. Make the most of what you have and Girl, make it look damn good…because you can.

And when you doubt yourself, when you feel unsure, let these words fuel you: To Thine Own Self Be True.

To Thine Own Self Be True.

…and no one can ever take that away from you.

Are there days ahead where I console the tears of my teenage girl because someone made fun of her or will I watch her try to be someone else while she figures it all out? I’m sure there are, and that kills me. But I will show them the way. I will celebrate their strengths and help them use their struggles to balance it all out, to learn something new, to feel the victory that comes when you conquer hardship, when you discover a little more amazingness about yourself.

Not caring what people think is difficult and, as one who just wants everyone to be happy, I struggle sometimes with the choices I make and what people will think of them. But I am always happier when, in a moment of doubt, I return to that peaceful, comfortable place of To Thine Own Self Be True.

What I’m really trying to say here is, Dammit 13-Year-Old-Self, you have no idea how fabulous you are. But you are. Breathe it in. And let it out. You are fabulous. And when you are true to yourself, you will grow. No, you will soar.

I think women are amazing. Hell, we can thrust living beings out of our bodies in one grimacing push. That, in itself, is impressive. But we have to learn to celebrate our beautiful differences…for ourselves, for our children.

In celebrating this weekend and the power of girl’s self-esteem I’ve collaborated with jewelry designer Whitney Hill of Belkai Designs to create a piece I am so proud of. I’ve been wearing it all week and feel empowered just in doing so. I can’t wait to have my girls wear this same necklace, and to know they are learning and believing this powerful truth: To Thine Own Self Be True.

The Empower Necklace.

10% of the profits of each necklace sold will go to Girls, Inc.–inspiring all girls to be strong, smart and bold. And certainly, to be true to themselves. Don’t forget, for a limited time, use the code ‘kelle’ at check-out for 10% off. A perfect gift for a teenage girl, I’m thinking. But, then again, I’m 31 and need to be reminded too.

And, we are giving away one Empower Necklace to a random commenter on this post. Tell me, what do you wish you could tell your 13-year old self? Winner will be announced Saturday evening.

Feeling blessed to know the beautiful women and girls in this post, many of which have weathered some pretty rough storms in life. And feeling blessed to share the rich world of womanhood with them, with you and to passionately accept this role of empowering the future for our girls.

…and props to Diggy for turning me on to the Matisyahu song.

I can rally.

September 21, 2010 By Kelle

My favorite phrase of the week…

I can rally.

As in, I walk upstairs at 7 a.m. all bed-headed and jammied with two wild girls ready to start their day. And my eyes hurt just to keep them open because it was only three hours earlier Nici and I decided to call it a night after passionately huddling over wine and candles and the kitchen table to talk about the things we want to do and the people we have met and all these crazy stories that make us cry and laugh and say, “yes, yes” and “oh, that reminds me…” There is coffee hissing on the stove and two more girls waking up, and here’s Nici lying on the couch—a hot mess of exhaustion and regret. She tells me all serious-like that she’s learned peeling open just one eye on mornings like this actually saves a lot of energy that would otherwise be wasted on keeping both eyes open and then she demonstrates with this crazy pirate-like fluttering blink. And just when I think it’s pretty much safe to pull the plug on any expectations of this poor mama doing anything, I look over and sympathetically offer a “Dude, you gonna be okay?” And, like magic, she smiles and slowly comes alive. “Oh, don’t you worry…I can rally.” Girlfriend delivers on a promise. Time and time again.

We rallied for five days, Baby.

Sipping. Stirring. Laughing. Hiking. Lounging. Lingering. Listening. Watching. Loving. Being.

We sadly left Missoula this morning as we initiated our one-day, four-state skip which, we’ve discovered, is not for the faint of heart. Over the course of nine hours, three diaper changes, two greasy airport meals, three take-offs, a stroller that’s been beat to heck and more pitied glances and “Oh-Gawd-you’re-brave“’s than I can count on one hand, we have managed to make it home. Missoula, Salt Lake City, Atlanta, Fort Lauderdale. And then lots of Brett hugs and an hour-and-a-half jaunt across Alligator Alley to my welcoming bed. And, just to prove I have more glasses in my stash than my favorite rose-colored ones, I’ll admit: traveling with kids and layovers and hair that didn’t get all the conditioner washed out of it this morning sucks. But we did it. Our stroller smells like ketchup and is missing the cup holder and there’s a good chance I’ll procrastinate on unpacking the heap of a mess in our suitcases for a good couple weeks, but we are home. I feel like I summited Kilimanjaro after single-mommin’ it across the country with all the crap I was hauling. But hey…I can rally.

Needless to say, I would do it again in a New York minute. Or a Missoula minute which, I’m pretty sure, is nothing like a New York one.
For starters, it’s slightly more laid back.

Talk about rallying, this girl showed me the beauty of both her town and her home in five days and never once made it feel like we were hurried to get out the door. A strategic blend of lounging at home and scouring Missoula pleasures all in one.

We prolonged pajamas and coffee-sipping every morning and even enjoyed a nap one day and yet we hit the museum and the ice cream shop and the Saturday morning market.

We lazed and dawdled in the backyard chasing chickens and pushing babies in the swing and yet we had time to ride horses–both real and pretend–and end an evening at a vineyard cuddled at the base of the mountains where we stayed ’til dark sipping and settling some very bad toddler fights over a hot pink hoola hoop.

And, I think my favorite of all was yesterday’s hike up the Rattlesnake–this astounding landscape of mountains and pines and rocks and creeks and, oh, for all the times I just stopped and stood and overused the word amazing.

We packed turkey sandwiches and peeled our socks and shoes off when we reached a secret spot by the creek where we spead our blanket and watched our girls. And it was…um…amazing.

I really freaking love this place.

And the comfort level of being in someone else’s home. Someone we’ve never met. Watching my kids be part of it all and knowing they feel loved and safe. Parenting together and breaking up spats over hoola hoops and the snowman cup and the green shoes Margot loved to wear…and feeling this amazing sense of camaraderie. That we’re all doing the same thing. Trying our best. And I think that’s why I love this girl so very much.

For all the times we rallied and stayed up ’til 4 and cried and loved and talked about life, there’s so much still we didn’t get to.

Women can be hard on each other. We have insecurities and we say things and we hold standards for each other that sometimes aren’t fair. We can talk about things we shouldn’t talk about and do things we shouldn’t do or maybe not help each other when we really should be doing more. But I believe in women and the amazing power we give each other. There are millions of amazing, inspiring, genuine women out there doing their best. And spending my week with this passionate, fearless, rallying woman has fueled my soul.

Nici, the planets aligned something fierce for our worlds to collide. I love you. I love your family. I love your girls…your spirited old soul and your fiery little rhubarb.

Thank you for rallying. What an amazing week.

We’re home and getting back in the swing of things now. I’ll be hosting a Tinkerbell Fairy Tea Party over at Nickelodeon’s Parents Connect Tuesday (11:59 a.m. – 11:59 p.m. EST). Check it out HERE!

Until then, we have so much sleep to catch up on…dreaming of Montana.

Diggin’ it with Dig.

September 17, 2010 By Kelle

Sometimes I have great intentions. And my intentions were to post last night, but there we were–two long lost friends snuggled under afghans, sipping wine, laptops perched before us, typing away but stopping to chat every few minutes or so. And it was late, even by Mountain Standard Time. And my brain was clearly not capable of transferring words onto the computer. When Nici finally looked up and said, “Hey, wanna go to bed?” I jumped at the chance.

So Monday I traveled 12 hours across the country schlepping bags, shhhhing babies and shaking exhaustion all to meet someone I’ve never met before. And, as passionate as I was to get this all happening–booking our flights, packing the suitcases, googling Missoula weather–about two hours before we landed in the mountainous town, I went white-knuckled…and not just because of the turbulence (which, by the way, had every passenger gripping their armrests and bracing their whiplashed heads–all except Lainey who was shreaking with laughter and squealing, “This is fun!”). It dawned on me that I was going to be spending a week with someone I’ve never really physically connected with. And what if, on Day Two, it was a total bust and I wanted to go home? What if we bored each other and I dragged my girls across the country for nothing? What if this was a blind friend date gone wrong? What if she was…crazy? You never know.

Two hours later, my fears melted when I stepped off the plane into the quaint lodginess of the little Missoula airport and saw her standing there waiting for us. Her wild curls were pulled loosely into two twirly buns and an artsy string of turquoise beads dangled from her ears, distinguishing her as the creative free Missoulian I had come to love through words and chats.

And, just as the mountains had me at hello, so did my friend I’ve never met. I knew there in the middle of the airport as we hugged and cried and barricaded the exiting passenger route for a good minute or so while we huddled, that this week was going to be just fine.

Our girls have settled into this delicious comfort zone brew of holding hands and skipping and trading tennis shoes seasoned with a few good “I had it first” face-offs to keep it real. And the fact that there are piles of our crap in their living room corners and I don’t even feel compelled to clean them up goes to show you just how welcoming they’ve made us feel. It feels like family, and we are drinking it in.

So, as two blogging mamas memorializing this experience, Nici and I are asking each other five questions about this whole gig on our blogs.

Nici’s Questions:

1. How do you like Montana, you Floridian? What’s how you thought it’d be and what’s different?

Dude, for starters, your mountains slay me. I always talk about the beach being my church and this spiritualness I get from sunsets and salty craters on Isle of Capri, but I feel it in a different way here. It’s gorgeous. Even your sunlight is different. Our sun is exuberant and wild, yours is lazy and care-free. Both good…but different. From how you’ve described it in the past, I’ve always felt Missoula has this major creative energy flowing from it, and I certainly feel it being here. As far as what’s different that what I expected? It feels more like home than I imagined which just goes to show you not only how much you’ve shared of “your place” but how you can be anywhere and find something to relate to.

2. So you met me, a person you’ve talked to for years and thought you knew. That’s crazy. How’d I measure up to your expectations? Be honest. And please don’t talk about my b.o. yesterday morning.

I know we’ve talked about this, but it’s amazing how much hasn’t surprised me in that I feel like I already knew you so much even without ever having hugged you or shared a cup of coffee with you just through your words on your blog and our e-mails and phone chats. And my expectations of you were simply that you were a beautiful person with a beautiful soul, someone I connected with over our passion for life and living and being mamas and wives and friends and women. And meeting you in person only confirms that connection. So, it’s all good, Baby. Even the B.O.

3. I am completely in love with the fact that, despite our different lives, we’ve connected in a real and powerful way. I mean one doesn’t just pick up and travel across the lower 48 with two babies for nothin’. There’s something really cool and unique here. How do you think the medium of blogging has contributed to our friendship? How might it have been different if we met on a playground?

I think blogging allows us to reveal a part of our being that a chance encounter on a playground or at a party doesn’t allow. I may have generalized, not in a bad way, but in a she-likes-different-things-than-I-do kind of way that may not have had us pursuing a friendship. I don’t can or grow my own food or may not share your same views on some political issues, but because of what we are passionate about and the goals we are trying to achieve and the way we live life, we really are more alike than different. And the way we have connected has, to me, opened up my eyes to realizing the bigger picture…that we are all more alike than different.

4. Margot bloodied her whole sweet face when she fell onto concrete from four feet up. She wanted you to help her pick out a new shirt. Lainey let me read her a book and put her to bed. Both events were surprising because we both would have staked millions on our girls wanting their mamas. Huh. What do you think about that?

I think that it’s just pure evidence in the cosmic forces that have fatefully collided our kindred spirit souls. In non-galactic mystical terms, I think the wise little souls in our littles sense the same kind of love and passion we share. And they’re cool with it.

5. We’re on day two. What’s your favorite so far?

Oh, don’t make me pick. I still love that first night…the way our girls instantly connected and ran off to Margot’s room to play…and those awesome hours after putting the girls to sleep when we curled up in the living room and lost track of time talking about each other’s lives.

And because I have way more pics to share, I’m expanding.

My favorite was kitchen table art after coffee.

And watching my girl love your chickens.

And the other chickens too.

And getting to visit a place that’s a big part of who you are.

And walking past these character-filled houses on your streets, pulling a rickety wagon full of 60 pounds of peaches knowing they will be transformed to sweet peach butter in your annual ceremony that we are privileged to be a part of this year.

But mostly…the girls. Knowing this is a purposeful adventure for them too…and looking forward to how they will know each other in the future and what they will learn from each other…how they will love.