Um, Am I the Biggest Nerd in the World?

I just woke up this morning and thought, "Yesterday, I posted a list of my 100 favorite books. 100 books! That are my favorite, cherished books." And the funny thing, until I went to and coached Mashuga's first soccer game (which went rather well, BTW), I didn't talk to a single soul above the age of 8.

Hmmmm....

Perhaps it's time to rethink my life.

And you know what I think is even more funny, nerdy about this?

I actually thought that posting a list of 100 books would be more interesting to read than a list of 100 tidbits about me like " Yes, I had an imaginary friend. His name was Albert. He lived in a pink house about two blocks from my house. We liked to go places together." and "I once broke someone's arm while playing soccer. I'm not proud of it and if I could go back, I'd make her chocolate chip cookies and be her personal slave at school until she got her cast off."

So, um, I think I'll leave "Biggest Nerd in the World" title to Napolean, but I'm a little scared at how close I sometimes come to that title.

So, do you want me to post the list I had going, about me?

But then, that makes me feel terribly vain. OF COURSE, you'd want to read ONE HUNDRED things about me. All about me.

But, then again, I have a friend who did this for her hundredth post (the about me list, not the nerdy book list) and I rather enjoyed reading her list.

Beauty, clerk. Over and out.

I've got to go pick up the little nerdlings in training from school.

Fitness Funnies

I love yoga. I'm not very good at it yet, but I still love doing it.

So, when I got an email from my mom titled Fw:Yoga, I had to check it out.

Boy am I glad I did.

Here it is:

THERE ARE TWO BASIC TYPES OF YOGA

1. YOGA FROM INDIA

2. YOGA FROM ALABAMA

And, against my better judgement (don'tstealmypoetryit'smeanandifieverfindoutyoudidi'llhuntyoudownandtakeyouforallyou'reworth) I've decided to share a silly poem I wrote a couple of days ago.

I've been working hard on a sonnet, a villanelle and a poem about the phoenix, so writing something goofy like this was a refreshing treat.

Inspired by a silly conversation with JDub about podfitness.com and stories from my sister about a personal trainer from her gym who actually eats double cheeseburgers and drinks cokes while he's working with training clients, I wrote this little gem.

World's Worst Personal Trainer

Keep goin'!
Keep goin'!
Look at that sweat rollin'!
Hey, fatty!
Keep goin'!
Just look at that sweat rollin'!

I know you feel the tugs
of some triple chocolate fudge

but keep movin'!
Keep breathin'
even though you're barely wheezin'!

Keep pumpin'!
Keep jumpin'!
Keep that fat-clogged heart a thumpin'!

You can trust me with your dream
to be hard and fit and lean.
I promise I can make you thin

and you'll pay
and pay
to listen to all I say

as I shove this burger in
the hole above my double chin.

100 Books That Made Me Who I Am

This is my 100th post on this blog! I've been trying to decide for weeks what to do for my 100th post. Should I sing you a song, write you a poem? I started a list of 100 things about me, but I got bored around #50 and thought you might, too.

So, being the bibliophile that I am and believing that you can learn a great deal about someone by what they love to read, I opted for a ginormous book list. 100 of my favorite books, books that really shaped me.

Maybe you'll recognize a few that you love, too. Hopefully you'll find something good to read.

I'd love it if you'd share some of your favorite (or favorite recently read) books either in the comments or in your own blogs. Happy reading!

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Children's Picture Books

1. The Quiltmaker's Gift by Jeff Brumbeau, Pictures by Gail de Marcken
2. Click, clack, moo : cows that type by Doreen Cronin, pictures by Betsy Lewin
3. Corduroy by Don Freeman
4. Chester's Way by Kevin Henkes
5. Maggie and the pirate by Ezra Jack Keats
6. Hooway for Wodney Wat by Helen Lester, pictures by Lynn Munsinger
7. Going to Sleep on the Farm by Wendy Cheyette Lewison, Pictures by Juan Wingard
8. If you give a mouse a cookie by Laura Joffe Numeroff, illustrated by Felicia Bond
9. Strega Nona : an original tale by Tomie de Paola
10. Where the Wild Things Are by Maurice Sendak
11. Oh, the Places You'll Go by Dr. Seuss
12. The Giving Tree by Shel Silverstein
13. Alexander and the terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day by Judith Viorst, Pictures by Ray Cruz

Fiction

14. Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen
15. Peter Pan by J.M. Barrie
16. Jane Eyre by Charlotte Bronte
17. A Little Princess by Frances Hodgson Burnett
18. The Secret Garden by Frances Hodgson Burnett
19. Ender's Game by Orson Scott Card
20. Ender's Shadow by Orson Scott Card
21. Rebekah by Orson Scott Card
22. Sarah by Orson Scott Card
23. Seventh son by Orson Scott Card
24. Xenocide by Orson Scott Card
25. The City of Gold and Lead by John Christopher
26. The Pool of Fire by John Christopher
27. The White Mountains by John Christopher
28. Heart of darkness and The secret sharer by Joseph Conrad
29. The Red Tent by Anita Diamant
30. Great Expectations by Charles Dickens
31. The Christmas Box by Richard Paul Evans
32. The Scarlet Letter by Nathaniel Hawthorne
33. Children of the Promise Series by Dean Hughes
34. Hearts of the Children Series by Dean Hughes
35. Les Miserables by Victor Hugo
36. The Phantom Tollbooth by Norton Juster
37. A Separate Peace by John Knowles
38. A swiftly tilting planet by Madeleine L'Engle
39. A wind in the door by Madeleine L'Engle
40. A wrinkle in time by Madeleine L'Engle
41. The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe by C.S. Lewis
42. The Screwtape Letters by C.S. Lewis
43. The Work and the Glory Series by Gerald N. Lund
44. Island of the Blue Dolphins by Scott O'Dell
45. 1984 by George Orwell
46. Animal Farm by George Orwell
47. Hatchet by Gary Paulsen
48. Where the Red Fern Grows by Wilson Rawls
49. The Harry Potter Series by J.K. Rowling (#6 was my favorite)
50. Complete Works of Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
51. Frankenstein by Mary Shelley
52. The fellowship of the ring by J.R.R. Tolkien
53. The hobbit by J.R.R. Tolkien
54. The return of the king by J.R.R. Tolkien
55. The two towers by J.R.R. Tolkien

Non-Fiction


Birth/Pregnancy/Postpartum
56. Birthing From Within: An Extraordinary Guide to Childbirth Preparation by Pam England and Rob Horowitz
57. Ina May's Guide to Childbirth by Ina May Gaskin
58. The Thinking Woman's Guide to a Better Birth by Henci Goer
59. The Doula Book: How a Trained Labor Companion Can Help You Have a Shorter, Easier and Healthier Birth by Klaus, Kennell and Klaus
60. Birth without violence by Frédérick Leboyer
61. Behind the smile : my journey out of postpartum depression by Marie Osmond with Marcia Wilkie and Judith Moore

Education
62. Multiple Intelligences : New Horizons by Howard Gardner
63. Dumbing Us Down by John Taylor Gatto
64. How Children Fail by John Holt
65. How Children Learn by John Holt
66. Learning All the Time by John Holt
67. Teach Your Own by John Holt
68. Guerrilla Learning: How to Give Your Kids a Real Education With or Without School by Grace Llewellyn and Amy Silver

History/Biography
69. The Hiding Place by Corrie Ten Boom
70. No small courage : a history of women in the United States edited by Nancy F. Cott
71. Anne Frank: The Diary of a Young Girl by Anne Frank
72. Benjamin Franklin by Walter Isaacson
73. The Hidden Life of Otto Frank by Carol Ann Lee

Money/Finances
74. The Total Money Makeover by Dave Ramsey

Parenting
75. The 7 habits of highly effective families by Stephen R. Covey
76. 3 steps to a strong family by Linda and Richard Eyre ; with contributions from their children
77. Everyday blessings : the inner work of mindful parenting by Myla and Jon Kabat-Zinn
78. Mitten Strings For God: Reflections for Mothers in a Hurry by Katrina Kenison
79. Raising your spirited child by Mary Sheedy Kurcinka
80. Being the Mom by Emily Watts

Religious
81. He did deliver me from bondage by Colleen C. Harrison
82. Standing for something : ten neglected virtues that will heal our hearts and homes by Gordon B. Hinckley
83. Glimpses into the life and heart of Marjorie Pay Hinckley, Virginia H. Pearce, editor
84. Believing Christ by Stephen Edward Robinson

Ways of Being/Thinking/Relating To Others
85. The 7 habits of highly effective people by Stephen R. Covey
86. The Miracle of Mindfulness by Thich Naht Hahn
87. Mentoring: The tao of giving and receiving wisdom by 89. Chungliang Al Huang and Jerry Lynch
88. Crucial conversations : tools for talking when stakes are high by Kerry Patterson ... [et al.]
89. Walden; and Civil Disobedience by Henry David Thoreau

Women's Studies
90. The mommy myth : the idealization of motherhood and how it has undermined women by Susan J. Douglas and Meredith W. Michaels
91. The Feminine Mystique by Betty Friedan
92. Awakening the Heroes Within : Twelve Archetypes to Help Us Find Ourselves and Transform Our World by Carol S. Pearson
93. Reviving Ophelia : saving the selves of adolescent girls by Mary Pipher, Ph.D.

Poetry


94. The complete collected poems of Maya Angelou by Maya Angelou
95. The poetry of Robert Frost : the collected poems, complete and unabridged by Robert Frost
96. The Norton Introduction to Poetry by J. Paul Hunter (Author), Alison Booth (Editor), Kelly J. Mays (Editor)
97. Beginnings & beyond : an anthology of poetry by Carol Lynn Pearson
98. The new kid on the block : poems by Jack Prelutsky
99. Where the sidewalk ends by Shel Silverstein
100. Inanna: Queen of Heaven and Earth, Her Stories and Hymns From Sumer by Diane Wokstein and Samuel Noah Kramer

(I have not included scripture in this list, but not because it hasn't shaped me.
It has probably had the most influence in my life.)

For those interested in more breast reading...

And if you missed it before, here's a link to a previous post when I was Baffled About Breasts.

Feel free to throw a couple pennies in the pot. I love to hear what you think.

Even if you don't agree.

Robert L. Jamieson Jr., may I kiss you?

My wonderful husband just forwarded this article to me. How refreshing it is to have men publicly taking up the torch in support of women doing what they feel is best for their children -- wherever and whenever they need to.

Here's a link to the article:

Nothing Shameful About Breast Intentions

Here is the full text. Couldn't have said it better myself.

Nothing Shameful About Breast Intentions

By ROBERT L. JAMIESON Jr.
SEATTLE POST-INTELLIGENCER COLUMNIST

I am a breast man. That is what my mother says.

When it came to feeding time, my baby lips steered clear from the rubber nips. No bottle-feeding for me.

Fortified by my mother's choice long ago, I now have no choice but to carry the flag in the ongoing dust-up in the mommy wars: Public breast-feeding is healthy, natural and perfectly acceptable -- or it should be.

This being America, some people become unhinged by the sight of public breast-feeding, those tender moments shared without fuss between mothers and their babies everywhere else on the planet.

A lactose-intolerant posse in the United States refuses to quietly let nature take its course.

The perfectly natural and utilitarian act of feeding makes some people uncomfortable.

Barbara Walters, the queenly television commentator on ABC, recently said on network television that seeing a woman breast-feeding on a plane wigged her out.

Her comments got the less regal but equally shrill Ken Schram of KOMO/4 in a royal froth. He opined about how squeamish folks can get when a woman "pops it out" and starts suckling little Johnny.

"Yeah, I know. It's natural," Schram said. "Well, so is urinating, but most folks don't up and pee in a glass in the middle of the mall."

He added: "For guys, it is nigh on impossible to switch from breasts as something sexual to breasts as takeout food."
Schram ought to stop watching titillating tapes from Blue Video and start taking a refresher course -- Breast-feeding 101.

He would learn urination is not on par with providing a basic human need. He would come to appreciate that anyone whose brain screams "SEX!" when a woman uses her bosom to nurse a baby needs a serious head check.

Study after study extols the benefits of a mother's milk. The American Academy of Pediatrics encourages women to feed babies breast milk exclusively for the first six months -- and continue doing so for several months after that.

Breast-fed children tend to be healthier than kids who are not. They are less prone to some cancers and experience stronger immune systems.

Equally as significant is the emotional and psychological bond that breast-feeding forges between a mother and child.

Most important, when a child has to eat a child has to eat.

Many states allow mothers to breast-feed in any public or private place. Washington is one of 15 states with a law that exempts breast-feeding from public indecency laws. The Evergreen State is one of 10 states with "infant- friendly" laws that support breast-feeding in safe, sanitary and private areas of the workplace other than restrooms.

Seattle-based Starbucks opens its store doors to female customers with infants. "Bottom line -- nursing mothers are welcome at Starbucks," company spokeswoman Audrey Lincoff tells me.

Such progressive thinking makes sense in this day and age.

Still, a pervasive culture of shame empowers mall security guards to crack down on breast-feeding mothers, fuels restaurant owners who interrupt nursing babies and offers pundits ammo to blast away on how grossed out onlookers might feel.

The discomfort of Americans is curious because our society is a big patriarchal, puritanical hypocrisy.

We are hyper-sexualized.

We enjoy breasts -- female, supple and bared -- on the boob tube.

But heaven spare us nursing moms baring a bit for kids' sake.

No wonder women -- in private conversations and online chats -- express a reluctance to breast-feed in public. Who wants to do something that Western society deems as being downright dirty?

Most breast-feeding moms try to be modest. They try to cover up. They try to be discreet. Yet they are made to feel nasty and uncivilized for being maternal.

There is another reason for hope on the breast-feeding front, smart laws aside.

It comes from people such as Rachel Kimbro, who wrote an online tip sheet for Salon.com to help people handle breast popping-out moments:

"1. For God's sake, don't leave the room.

2. Keep the conversation going -- don't act like we've suddenly become invisible.

3. Nope, we don't need any help. But you might offer to fetch us some water or a snack.

4. Personally, I could care less if you watch or not.

5. I could also care less whether or not it excites you, nor do I think you should feel bad if it does. This reaction will fade as nursing in public becomes more normal."

"Don't worry what others are thinking," Kimbro sums up. "Your baby is hungry."

For boob-minded nincompoops who still don't get it and cannot handle the breast intentions of mothers, I offer a two-word footnote:

Look away.

Want to Know a Secret?

It's a secret about writers.

They write.

Okay, no big secret, but I'm wondering lately. I consider myself a writer. I'd like to consider myself a serious writer. But, do blogs count? Do they really?

I've certainly developed a strong sense of voice here. But, I really want to spend my time writing marketable things.

And poetry.

Ahhhhhh....... the poetry!

I went to a poetry group last night at our local library and it was heaven.

I came home and whipped out 5 stanzas of a poem I've been struggling with for weeks.

Just had to share.

Freeeeeeeeeeee!

Why oh why did I ever think that having one baby to take care of was hard?

My three eldest kinder-eggs are off playing at their grandmother's house today. THANK YOU GRANDMA AND GRANDPA!

So, it's just little Coco and I. I feel like a kite waving in the air. I can do anything!

So far we've done laundry, taken a good long walk in the sunshine and next we'll be taking him to get his picture taken.

Woohoo!

Just had to share the joy.

Back to our regularly scheduled programming...

Of mayhem, mischief, humor and reptiles.

Spring has sprung at our magical house. And I've got the proof in pictures.



Once again, snakes! And you know, after a couple of years with a backyard teeming with snakes, they don't fill me with horror the way they once did. At least not our friendly garder snakes. They've become inevitable visitors and I've developed somewhat of a morbid fascination with them. I stood, staring at and taking photos of this beauty, for about 30 minutes this afternoon.



Weird, huh? I was almost happy to see him.

"Well, hello little guy. Have a good sleep?"



After all, he hasn't poisoned, bitten, bothered or eaten any of my children yet. Why should I worry this year?

And then there's this Mashuga kid I'm expected to raise. Can't quite figure him out yet. How do you raise a child who really doesn't care a whit what you think about him. Especially when he is so much fun to be around. Honestly, if you had told me that I'd get this much pleasure out of being ignored and deliberately disobeyed, I would have laughed you to the ground. But Mashuga is fun, even if he acts like he's only putting up with me until he turns 18 and only does what I say if he doesn't have anything better to do.


Case in point.

We were in the car on the way to get Scud from school. I was talking to him about keeping his pants dry or cleaning his room or some other such nonsense.

Suddenly he breaks out in a refrain of:

"I'm closing my ears! I'm closing my ears! Hi ho the cherry-o, I'm closing my ears."

I look in the miror, expecting a fight. But, no. He has his fingers in his ears and a jubliant smile on his face.

He kept singing all the way to the school, fingers firmly in his ears.

And he can also be so sweet, I must say. I frequently awake to his little voice saying, "Good morning beautiful! I love you!" or "Mommy, will you please roll over so I can see your beautiful face."



My Dad turned 50 on Sunday. What a good guy he is. We had a surprise birthday party/open house for him on Saturday and it was such a joy to be there and to see everyone else there. I put together a slide show for him and am just so amazed by what a good life he's lived. I planned to write a whole post about him on his birthday, but alas, I slept most of the afternoon because I was so tired after driving home from his party. I will write that post soon, I promise.

Coco is growing and getting chubbier and chubbier. He laughs and smiles and is just delightful for our family.



I hope you are enjoying life wherever you are. I'm loving it here. This time of year is powerfully enlivening for me. I find myself rejoicing as each crocus peeks it's head through the soil, as each blade of new green grass appears, as buds begin on trees. The weather is so perfect now. Warm enough to be warm and truly appreciated after months of winter.

I drove home this afternoon with my windows down, Impromtu in F minor by Schubert playing loudly, wind whipping through my hair.

There are fleeting moments when I wonder why we think we have to wait to taste heaven.

Little Mexico

We live in a neighborhood where about 50% of the residents speak Spanish. There are frequent, loud parties on summer evenings. Cars drive down our road blaring songs laden with chirping accordion and a heavy bass.

I love it. Except for maybe the accordion. I'd be lying if I told you I was entirely fond of Mexican music. But I do enjoy the different flavor it gives to what would otherwise be a very homogenous neighborhood.

I love Latin American people. I love their hospitality. I love their devotion to their families. I love their easy-going nature. And, boy, can they throw a party!

A few months ago, we went to our neighbor's birthday party. Our plates were LOADED with pork and beans that had been cooked outside, over open flame, in a pot large enough to fit a small child. There were two huge pinatas, lots of laughter and Iris dunked her face in the cake after we sang to her. It was a fun time, even though I could only speak with half the family there.

Truly, I love our Mexican neighbors.

The ice cream truck, however, visits our neighborhood a great deal because of the cultural tendency of most Latin American countries to buy their ice cream from traveling salespeople. This is not my favorite thing. That is putting it mildly. I have had my most violent thoughts over the last couple years as the ice cream man (who really is a nice enough guy) drives past our house. More on this later. Watch for it.

Well, it turns out that ice cream is not the only thing that Mexicans buy or sell from cars.

Today, JDub was working in the garage with the door open. A car pulled up in front of our driveway and a man beckoned from the passenger window.

"Hey," he said, waving JDub over.

JDub walked to the curb.

"Hey," the man said again, in heavily accented English, "j'you want some tamales?"

I'm telling you. It's a whole different world here.

And speaking of family...

Our family has been doing something really rewarding lately. We're working on a family motto and family mission statement/theme. After that we'll be working on some good, simply family rules that really govern our philosophy as a family. I want our children to have ownership in the shape our family takes and to agree to the rules that we are all expected to follow (yes, Mom and Dad, too!).

Last week we came up with our family motto. I was rather pleased with how it worked up and that it included input from all of our family members.

Here it is:

"Kindness, faith, hard work and laughter will get us all home together."

We also talked about some things that define our family, the kind of family we are and want to be. I may list them sometime soon.

Back to the rules thing, I'm always coming up with crazy rules on the fly. This accidental parenting thing is not what I'd call ideal. Because sometimes I come up with things like "Never pour lemonade in the dishwasher." or "We don't hit each other with baseball bats." Um, duh. Like I'm going to remember every weird thing I say and enforce it.

Instead, I want to have some good, principle-based, catch-all rules for our family. Like "We treat others with kindness and respect." and "Our house is a house of order." You know, stuff like that.

Today I actually came up with a good one. Not sure it will make the list of family laws, but I think I'll still say it a lot.

Scud was complaining because I asked him to pick up his sister's shirt when he went to get his shoes from under the trampoline and out flew "Scud, God gave us two arms for two reasons. First to help ourselves and second to help other people." He actually went right out and did it without complaint after that. We'll see if it becomes annoying after a while. That wouldn't be too terrible, really. I like annoying my kids for their own good.

So I wonder. What are some your favorite family rules, both silly and serious?

Continuum

I've been thinking a lot this week about the places I hold in my family. Because of the current season of my life, I am frequently caught up in my role as mother. All of my other roles seem to get only cursory attention. That's probably as it should be.

But I've been looking through old pictures and just loving being part of my family as a whole. It's good to feel the warmth of being not only a mother, but a daughter and a sister and a granddaughter. I am a niece and cousin, a sister-in-law, an aunt, grandmother to my future grandchildren.

I've especially been thinking about my parents this week. I am finishing a project for my Dad's 50th birthday, scanning pictures of our family through the years. They were so young when they got married. My mom was 20. My Dad was 18.

One picture especially caught my eye. We were on vacation in Park City, Utah. My mom was about my age. And I looked into her eyes, really looked. I realized something that I've never really understood before. Just like me, she loved her children fiercely and always did her best as our mother. And just like me, she had absolutely no idea if she was doing it right. She probably felt the same feelings of doubt and guilt, of joy and laughter. And it made me realize what a good woman she is, that my mom is the kind of person I would have been friends with had we been the same age. Which is not to say that we're not friends now, just that peer friendships are somewhat different than mother/daughter friendships. And I think I would enjoy being her friend either way.

I also realized how quickly my parents had to grow up. My mom lost her mother when she was eleven years old. My dad lost his parents when he was less than 2 years old. And my mother was my age when her father collapsed in our backyard and died later that day. My age. 29. So young to be without parents.

I really don't know what I'd do without my parents. They are an amazing support for me and for my children. They help us in so many ways and do so much for us. On top of that, they are such a huge emotional support. Their love is a constant beacon and has been a constant guide in my life.

Then, there's my sister. She's just started dating a wonderful person and is so excited about him. And I realized this week that my relationship with my best friend may change somewhat over the next little while. I am absolutely thrilled for her, crossing my fingers and hoping it will work out. But still a teeny bit sad for me as I look at what may be the end of an era in our relationship, selfish as that may be.



I've also been thinking a great deal about my grandparents lately. My father's parents, who were murdered in 1958, taken far too soon. My mother's mother, who was mother and safe haven to her children and every other child in the neighborhood. My Grandpa M, who was stubborn and gruff and sweet all at once, who carried small green tins of M&Ms and mints to share with his grandchildren. My spunky great-grandma who gave birth to 11 children and raised most of them by herself after her husband died and then raised my dad and his brother. She out-lived most of her children and out-ran young adults in her nineties. Then there was my Great Aunt, who also raised my dad. She made delicious peanut brittle, burned cookies, dried apricots and raised parakeets.

It's interesting to find that, as you get older, you really start to think about the people you love and who have loved you. Not to think as much about how they affect you or what you need from them. You start more to think about THEM -- who they are, how they've lived, how life has shaped them, how they've handled both joy and pain.

And as I think about my family, I am simply honored to be among them. There is imperfection, certainly. Fumbling. But so much love, so much strength and generosity, kindness and faith. I am amazed by how my family has handled adversity, how my parents especially have opened through grief and pain and allowed it to make them more gentle, more kind and forgiving of others.

It is a blessed thing to be part of a family.

And now, as I look into my parents eyes as they were young and stumbling through parenthood I feel both comforted and called to be better than I am. For this moment, I am able to glimpse my space on this continuum. I see all of the women who have stood in precisely the place I inhabit right now and my space feels so much wider, bigger and at once so small.

I am mother to my children. Daughter to two wonderful parents. Sister and sister-in-law to some of the best people on earth. Granddaughter. Aunt. Niece. Future Grandmother.

I wish so much to spread my arms wide to embrace the immensity of all that I am, to touch and bless all who stand before and after me in just the way I have been blessed.

What I'm Listening To Lately

Those of you who read my blog often may have gotten the idea that I love music in a big way. There was a time in my life that I had the time and energy to write a lot of music. Alas, this is not the season for that.

So, I have enjoyed listening to others' music. And I find that the music I listen to most really is a backdrop for my inner landscape. If you want to know how I feel about myself, my world, others -- just listen to the music I'm listening to.

So, here are some of my latest favorites:

Galileo by The Indigo Girls -- Classic. Also many memories tied to this. Two of my favorite roommates from my freshman year of college used to blast this through our house. That was a good year. Also, I attended a lovely birth with an amazing couple and this song was playing in the background as their gorgeous daughter was born. Wow.

See the World by Gomez -- I love the feel of this song. Can't explain it. Too much a of a vibey thing and I'm afraid if I tried to explain it I'd kill the magic. This is the video embedded at the beginning of this post.

32 Flavors by Ani DiFranco -- "I am a poster girl with no poster..." I love the emotion that comes through in her voice and I love the simplicity of this song. The drumming at the end is superb.

This Woman's Work by Kate Bush -- This is a failproof song when I need something to meet me where I am and help me keep going.

Let Him Fly by the Dixie Chicks -- Nope, not letting JDub go. Hanging on tight. But there have been some ghosts to let go of (again) lately.

Heaven by Moonpools and Caterpillars -- You may have never heard of this band. They only put together one CD in the late 90's. I went to a small concert with one of my favorite friends from college. I was enchanted instantly.

Sundays by Moonpools and Caterpillars -- "Is there a yearning inside that makes the spirit free? Is there a yearning inside that reminds us we'll succeed?" She has a very distinctive voice.

Feels Like Today by Rascal Flatts -- Love their music. Such an inspiring song.

I'm Movin' On by Rascal Flatts -- The lyrics to this song are exquisite. Perfect. And it's gloriously beautiful music.

Nessun Dorma! From Turandot sung by Placido Domingo -- Never ceases to move me. Never. I cried the first time I heard it.

If you're interested at all in buying any of these songs from itunes or in hearing pieces of them, you can click here for the imix. Happy listening!

I'm feeling rather snarky today

But, alas, the babe in my arms keeps me from typing all of the gloriously sarcastic things I have to say today.

Maybe later.

For now, I just want to say that I think the new blogger sucks rocks.

There, I've said it.

I switched, believing their promise that it would be easier. Believing, as JDub has conditioned me to believe, that Google can do no wrong.

Not so.

I haven't quite liked my blog since I switched.

My sidebar is too narrow. The colors aren't right. The text is different.

And I can't quite figure out how to change things to get them to look just the way I want.

Either I put up with their parameters or I have to become an html genius.

Blech!

Okay. Done complaining now.

I really did say I'd ask some of you for help, didn't I?

Maybe I'll do that and spare you all the next round of complaints

Sometimes the answer is losing weight.

And sometimes it's best to just take a deep breath, be gentle with oneself and buy bigger clothes.

I've decided that, for me, right now, the latter is the answer.

I had a horrendous morning last Friday. I went clothes shopping for the first time since Coco was born. Ooooh boy.

It turns out that I'm a much larger small person than I thought I was.

I chose several pairs of pants and several shirts and then headed to the dressing room with Jack and Mashuga in tow. They were reasonably well behaved as I tried on pants that I couldn't zip up and shirts that showed curves that I'm not exactly willing to admit to the world that I have.

"Wait," i told myself. "When I looked at these on the hangers they looked like they were about the same size as me."

Turns out I have proportion perception problems.

So we had to repeat the process.

And my little boys, particularly Mashuga, were not so happy about it.

But I did get a good opportunity to streak in our local Target. As I was nursing Jack in the dressing room with my top off, Mashuga decided to climb under the door and head out for adventure. So I quickly put Jack in his carseat and ran, unthinking, after my escapee. With half of my bra undone and my breast completely exposed. Cool, huh?

Luckily he didn't make it out of the women's dressing room. So my exposure was limited.

Unluckily, there was a man standing outside one of the dressing room doors, giving his wife more bras to try on. Maybe he tried to talk her into getting the kind that only cover one breast.

I don't know. I left shortly after that. I bought myself a nice pair of pants. They're a beautiful brown. Soft, sueded khaki. They're insanely comfortable. And they're the first pair of pants I've ever purchased with a W at the end of the size. (I know, boohoo, poor me.)

On my way home, I consoled myself with half a bag of Cadbury Mini Eggs (CHOCOLATE!). I don't mean a small bag. Good solution, eh?

All joking aside, though, I feel grateful. Grateful for my body that grew and birthed four beautiful babies. Grateful that Jack is thriving and growing from the good milk my body is making. Grateful for a mother that taught me that inner beauty is what matters most of all and that I should never determine my worth or anyone else's by the outer package. Grateful that she taught that by example.

So, like I said, I'm taking a deep breath. I'm loving myself. I'm letting go.

Because right now my baby, my spirit and my Cadbury Mini Eggs are much more important to me than my skinny jeans.