Want the satisfaction of feeling all adventurous-go-get-’em without really having to go get ’em? Make a bucket list of very doable things and then do them. Cross them off your list with a big fat red marker just for the heck of it.

Like…
Eat day-old birthday cake using my hands for a plate. Check.
Brush my teeth with Dora bubble gum toothpaste. Check.
Do a crappy job painting my toenails and don’t bother to clean up the smudges. Check, check.

Ooooh, look at me, I’m knockin’ off my bucket list.

‘Tis true, there are cake crumbs, a bubble gum after taste and a pedicure that looks like I painted my toes with a blindfold. I ran out of polish remover. Thankfully, I’m headed to a closed toe shoe region later this week.

*****

Our weekend was quiet and homey, just the way it’s supposed to be.

Brett and I cleaned the house together yesterday, making trades like “I’ll do the kitchen if you do the bathroom.” It all came together swimmingly for a perfect evening of family and celebrating two very special years.

I didn’t even notice when 4:24 p.m. slipped by. We were busy, happy, making cake.

I started shoving candles into her cake and convinced myself that more candles represented more love. So I used the whole box and lit that muthah on fire.

Brett practiced blowing out candles with her all day yesterday so that by the time her moment was up, Sister took a bow.

Three out of four sets of grandparents (ah, the one bonus of divorce) allowed for a more harmonious chorus of “Happy Birthday,” and oh, did it feel wonderful to have a house full.

Right before bed, Heidi said “I love you” to Nella, and you know what my girl said back? “Love you.” We reacted appropriately. Like maybe we fell off the couch.

I am feeling content today. Exactly where I’m supposed to be–over my funk, productive, reflective, slow and steady.

For all the times I write about an imbalance–feeling too busy, uninspired, a creative bang, a high, a low, a when’s-it-going-to-iron-out–it’s assuring to know, there is a rhythm to all of it. Right now, in this tiny moment of time, work and family feel so appropriately melded. I feel both inspired and at peace; motivated and content; excited and calm; and even if that balance shifts tomorrow, its presence right now is enough to remind me, it works out. Ebb and Flow, Shift and Settle.

For the first time since before kids, I’m traveling alone this week. Two nights without babies. While I am expecting a smidge of chest-constricting angst as I board a plane solo, I am surprisingly at peace, knowing this is good for all of us, and my babies will be well taken care of.

Bucket List #148: Take a trip to the big city…alone.
Check.

Lainey’s Chinese Dragon tee, Happy Family

*****

Our new sponsor has a very generous offer for us this week. I am delighted to introduce Happy Family, a shop you’ll find very useful if stylin’ it up with more color and character is on your bucket list.

I posted this picture on Instagram (@etst) this week and received several requests for the t-shirt source:

Word: Happy Family. Stocked with hand screen printed tees, messenger bags, potholders and totes, Happy Family has fun, conversation-sparking goods for men, women, children and babies.

Nella’s birthday tee:

..and my funky camera tee:

Happy Family is donating 20% of all their proceeds this week to Nella’s 2 for 2 Fund–an even better reason to shop! Please mention Nella’s 2 for 2 Fund in the seller notes.

Happy Shopping!

*****

We are almost only $10,000 away from our goal of $200,000 raised for the NDSS for Nella’s second birthday. 2 for 2 will continue until Nella’s Tea for Two party next month. It’s not too late to share, to give, to continue the efforts of many…to make a difference. Thank you so much for everything you’ve done to support our community.

*****

Wednesday’s post might look a little something like this, sans sweet baby along for the ride.

Turns out the run the other night was just the beginning, the preview of exorcisms to come.

Last night, it was the toy basket liner–the one that always slips down all cock-eyed every time I throw a toy in, trapping doll shoes and Mr. Potato Head arms so no one can find them. I’d finally had it. I tossed a harmonica and down it went, behind the liner, and I couldn’t untie the little knots that secured it to the basket for the life of me. So I did what any self-respecting mother would do. I lost it. I took the basket and dumped it upside down in a crazed upheaval that sent toys crashing to the wood floor–some I hadn’t seen in years–and I ripped that #@$*!@& basket liner out and threw it away like it was the first step toward a more peaceful future. And it was.

Aw, hell done just broke loose. I weeded out toys. I dusted my coffee table. I assured a group of baby dolls that Goodwill was a great place to live, and when I filled two garbage bags full of things to give away and finally put the kids to bed, I sat on my kitchen counter and convinced Brett to listen to one of my doozies–the once-every-three-month really deep life conversation. And though this all may seem unnecessarily dramatic, I’ve realized this reaction is part of who I am. No matter how many personality quizzes I’ve taken–even if I try and alter the outcome by Christmas-treeing my way through questions, it is inevitable my diagnosis says “Hey, you’re impulsive! Hey, you’re emotional!” If emotions were an English breakfast tea, let’s just say I let my tea steep so long and so strong until just a sip of it demands action: spit it out, throw it out, make new tea, talk about the tea, write a tea thesis. Get a degree in tea studies, start a tea company and change the tea world. I’ve long tried to balance things better–slower, more thoughtful, more analyzed but, at the same time, concentrated emotion propels me into action in some sort of revolutionary way. I’ve been asked so many times if it would have been easier to have a prenatal diagnosis for Down syndrome, and I can honestly say I know myself well enough to believe the shock and heightened emotion of that moment was important for me. Deprogramming, in a way. A distinct slate-cleansing beginning.

I’m all about clean slate beginnings. The important issue, regardless of whether we attend to every quiet emotion the second it arises or wait until things are a great big ball of “you better fix this shit,” is that we attend to emotions at all. Listen to them, learn from them.

There is no life-altering crisis here. In fact, a mind x-ray would reveal things that might be trite and silly to some, hardly reason for a deep life conversation or going apeshit on a toy basket. There are however a lot of little things I can change right now–bad habits, inattentive routines, shift of focus.
For all the times I spent crying on my bed when I was younger because, God forbid, my world was changing a little bit, I’ve realized somewhere around thirty, I developed a healty addiction to the very thing I’ve hated my whole life…change. Change is growth, and without it we are stagnant. Stale. Boring.

Shake it up, Baby.

We talked about change last night. About wanting to be better and making deliberate efforts to deposit time and affection in the family bank. When things get busy, it is so easy to turn on Little Bear for Lainey, serve quick and easy dinners, throw towels next to the bathtub, scratch washing my face before bed. But it doesn’t feel good after a while. And I want to feel good.

So I wrote a tea thesis. Took change to the tenth power and deprogrammed–or rather reprogrammed–little things around the house that seemed symbolic. Rearranged the living room, swapped out picture frames, packed up the 12 month clothes and put them away. No Little Bear today. New accessible book stacks and puzzle piles.

Today was quiet and thougtful and felt a little bit new. I dug up a pair of shoes I haven’t worn in ages. Twisted my hair into braids for something different. Chose an alternate path to the lake.

Seriously, she falls asleep at the lake every time.

I used to think emotional “funks” would just ride out on their own–grab a board, ride the wave. I find more comfort now though in the truth they hold. Funks aren’t the cause of emotions; they are the effect–messages to which we need to listen and respond.

Whether our response is monumental or something as simple as rearranging a living room or cleaning out a toy bin, it’s the action of responding that is empowering–funk-erasing.

I’m finding such clarity in just the initiation of changed behaviors. I moved a poetry book to my nightstand this morning, added a couple new items to my bucket list today, had an ice cream date with new friends.

And I feel invigorated. Ready to take on the tea world.

*****

While new is great, old standbys are comfy and reassuring too.

Like best friends.

Same old park.

Post holiday return to baking.

Friday Photo Dumps.

*****

In keeping with being kinder to myself, I’m excited about taking time for a skincare regimen before bed instead of a splash ‘n go, especially since I have a new skincare set from our latest sponsor Muvazi. Muvazi skin products are paraben free and made with natural ingredients. Their anti-aging skin care system is made up of a cleanser/toner, an oxygentic eye cream, an intra-cellular moisturizer and a hydrating face serum, and I feel like a badass now when I’m actually taking the time before bed to wash and moisturize my skin.

And the best part? Buy a skincare system using code ‘nella’ at check-out, and your $119 skin care system is only $79.95/free shipping, plus $5 will be donated to Nella’s” 2 for 2 fund for every kit sold.

*****

That reminds me. Sister’s got a birthday this weekend.

Since Tuesday’s post, another $25,000 has been raised for Nella’s 2 for 2. We are beyond grateful. Every state has been represented, and over 200 international donations have been made from 15 countries. And Molly Dunn, a reader’s 10-year old daughter we have never met, will once again give up her birthday presents this year in lieu of donations to Nella’s birthday fund (thank you, sweet Molly). I think that the Internet can be a grand place, and you people prove that the world is full of kindness and incredible intentions. With $20,000 to go, the fund is still kickin’.

We are looking forward to celebrating our girl’s memorable entrance into our lives this weekend. There will be cake. And I will cry.

If you feel so inclined, leave a comment sharing any small changes in your life that you’d love to initiate to shake things up. Make new tea.

I sat down a couple hours ago to write this post. Had a halfway decent string of thought going, some good pictures, a window of opportunity while Brett entertained the kids before bed. But as I tapped out the first few sentences, I realized I felt jittery and unfocused–a present feeling that couldn’t be ignored once I sat down and attempted to clear my thoughts enough to write. I love that about writing–the space it requires gives such clarity to my feelings or at least draws attention to its absence.

My to-do list is ripe right now, and my time and thoughts are being fractioned into too many areas–most of them fulfilling but still stretching me a bit uncomfortably. I’ve felt a little edgy and off until finally tonight, in a moment of Priority Triage, I realized I haven’t been kind to myself.

I turned my computer off, fetched my running shoes, hollered to Brett something about needing to “reclaim my mind” and ran out the door. I didn’t even bother to stretch but rather threw myself into a steady pace, desperate to connect with that part of myself I’ve ignored for a little while–the quiet inner voice that sacrifices its needs first when other responsibilities call but withers soon enough if it’s not fed, slowly taking with it inspiration, confidence, motivation, contentment. And while sacrificing taking care of our own selves most often feels good because we’re giving to someone else–our kids, our family, our community, our friends–it only lasts so long. The source from which you give must grow as well. And tonight I realized, I need to fill it up. I need more sleep, more calm, more exercise, more pleasure reading, more thoughtful food choices, more time alone with my husband, more quotes, more music, more quiet moments with my girls.

I ran like nobody’s business tonight. Felt the quiet voice that’s been submerged for a bit reawaken with my very first stride. “I’m alive! I’m alive!” she cried. Florence and the Machine belted out “The Dog Days,” and I sprinted through the black spaces between each streetlight and slowed down at every yellow glow to two-step a kicky move to the “like a bullet in the baaaaaaaaack” line. And I wonder why I don’t make time for this every night. Suddenly, clarity.

I didn’t run a marathon tonight. Didn’t need to. I did run an effortless three blocks and then turned around to make an introspective walk home. I noticed the wind, the stars, the way the blood rushed to my fingertips and made them itch. I noticed myself, something I’ve forgotten to do lately.

We cannot make good mamas, good wives, good friends if we don’t.

Two little girls in mismatched jammies welcomed me back home, and I took over bedtime routines, kicking off my shoes and climbing into our big bed for story time.

“I can do it if you need to write,” Brett offered.

“Dude, I just had an exorcism, I’m good.” I replied, pointing to my shoes.

There will be more of this. It is so re-energizing, inspiring, needful. Those flight attendants know what they’re talking about: put your own oxygen mask on first before assisting someone else.

*****

Today, in photos and very few words:

The Lake.

The Sky.

The Driveway Neighborhood Friend Gathering.

The Newborn Fix #2 this Week with my friend Erin’s baby, Ethan

The Post Bun Waves


My friend, Kim, makes these killer snap barrettes

*****

Back in tomorrow for a short little something special.
Thank you so much for sharing our 2 for 2 post. Watching the ticker move is an inspiring pastime around here these days.

Good night.