This blog has been a lot of things. A love story. A new adventure. The journey of a women becoming comfortable with who she is and what she believes in.

I don't write here as often as I used to, but the stories I've left on these pages have made me who I am. I come back occasionally to put down thoughts and stories.
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This is a love story.

It’s about our friends Mark and Giulia and the courageous journey they took through and out of the dark, steep path of mental illness. I think like most of their friends, we never could have imagined that the always smiling, full of energy Giulia that we had grown to love during our time in San Francisco could be going through this. It felt so sudden. So unexpected. I remember getting the email from Mark that Giulia had been hospitalized and I must have read it a dozen times. I just couldn’t comprehend what they were going through and I didn’t know what to do or what to say. 

Months went by and we only got to see the outermost layer of the battle Mark and Giulia were fighting. Eventually, as Giulia began to find her way through, they did something drastic. They put their lives on hold and went on an around the world trip. We all followed their journey on twitter and their blog. I saw photos of my sweet friend with her hair whipping across her glowing cheeks, that familiar smile returning to her face.

So often in marriage, when the true test of commitment to a spouse is tested, things fall apart. I can thing of few things as devastating as losing a bright, witty, charming wife to the black hole of mental illness -  to have her there physically but somewhere far away mentally.

But Mark fought. and Giulia fought. and they found their way back. Their journey is more heroic than all the fairytales and story books ever written. It’s love. at its best and worst. and it deserves to be shared.

Love,

M

01/17/2012 17:40
I have one too many lace slips and dresses as it is, but oh, this one. 
oh. oh. oh.
Dresses like this remind me that sometimes, it is the loveliest thing ever to be a woman.
Love,
M

I have one too many lace slips and dresses as it is, but oh, this one

oh. oh. oh.

Dresses like this remind me that sometimes, it is the loveliest thing ever to be a woman.

Love,

M

01/16/2012 19:09

Marriage.

I hate when we argue, but most often, it is the thing that reminds us we are human. For so long we were a couple and then our eyes blinked closed and they opened to us with a baby on each hip, an official new title: mama. daddy. and less time than we’d ever had before for our individual selves and our relationship.

This is nothing new and it’s nothing unexpected. I remember feeling that people who reckoned themselves to giving up parts of their relationships because of their children were just flat out wrong and they weren’t trying hard enough.

But I know differently now. Because we try as hard as you can imagine to stay connected to one another while keeping all of our plates spinning, little bodies washed, bellies fed, naptimes and bedtimes on schedule and on any given day, it’s hard as hell to feel like I’ve been really, truly inside of your head and arms and mouth.

So when there have been too many moments since your arms wrapped around my shoulders or I’ve rubbed the scruff of your chin against my forehead, we sometimes find ourselves tearing away at one another because all the frustration has to go somewhere and we’re each other’s easiest and most accessible target.

But when anger flashes in my eyes, when frustration flies from your lips, I am never scared. Because we built this house of our marriage to withstand a rainstorm, a flood, wind and limbs and leaves. You laid the bricks and I poured the morter. And I know that one of us will walk away. and we both will breath. and always, every single time,  I’ll find that place in the curve of your body that God made just to shelter me.

So we go on, being human. Living with our imperfect selves. Recognizing each other’s weaknesses and loving despite. Creating our balance. Fighting sometimes. Forgiving always. The day in, day out of for better and for worse. Sometimes sacrificing small parts of ourselves for each other and our children and in turn receiving the overwhelming gifts of this life together.

Our one certainty: We are in this together. And you will make me cry and I will make you furious and we will laugh and live the best we can. We always make it work. Because when the dust clears we are left standing here with the each other and the truth. No other could love me as you do. No other could love you as I do.

I’ll ask “I’m stuck with you, aren’t I?” and your eyes will narrow and your lips will turn up at the corners and you’ll say “Afraid so, babe.” and it’s a beautiful thing to realize every.single.time.

Love,

M

01/09/2012 13:40

FILE UNDER: Awesome people.

Lulu is a single mom who’d gone back to school and didn’t have the time or interest in working full-time to pay for rent. So when she had to move out of her more conventional home, she decided to move herself and her daughter into a shipping container.
With no building experience, Lulu spent just one month cutting windows and a door and installing insulation and a basic kitchen (complete with propane-powered campstove and on-demand water heater). 
Then she and her daughter moved into the 8 by 20 foot square foot home, fitting a bed, couch, bookshelf and kitchen cabinets into the 160 square foot box.
When Lulu decided they needed a bit more space, she went from shipping to trucking waste and began to build their bedroom on a used flatbed trailer.
“It’s really mostly built like a shed. It’s a nice looking shed, but it’s really an 8 by 16 shed with windows in it.”
Using only recycled building materials- including used floorboards, windows, cabinets, doors, bathtub, toilet and sinks- she built the entire thing for about $4,000 (trailer included).

12/07/2011 18:11

I nearly gave myself an asthma attack watching this video (and it’s been a long, long time since I’ve done that). If you need a laugh tonight, well here you go.

Love,

M

12/06/2011 18:18

My husband

Brent: •I saw a yard maintenance company the other day with the worst name. Yardnique. Like unique but with yards.
Me: •Yeah, that's bad.
Brent: •I immediately came up with a better one to replace it
Me: •what?
Brent: •Lawn time coming
Me: •...
10/27/2011 19:35
(Sorry for the tiny photo)
With all this talk of moving, Brent and I have one wish - a king size bed. We love having the children in bed with us in the morning, (both usually wake up between 4-6am and we put them in bed with us to snooze a bit longer) - but we are beyond cramped in our queen. I have been on the hunt for a unique King headboard at a reasonable price - and while I love the clean aesthetic of some of the lower, platform styles - I haven’t found one yet that would compliment the vintage vibe of our bedroom furniture.
Then, I came across this monstrosity. A horrifying mix of wood and gaudy 80’s design- and I want it bad. How absolutely GORGEOUS would this be painted white or yellow and paired with a bunch of vintage pillow cases and a colorful quilt?  Have no idea where we could even store it until we move into a new place - but mama wants!
Still not sold on my vision? Just you wait - If I can score this thing for cheap, it’s gonna be awesome.
Love,
M

(Sorry for the tiny photo)

With all this talk of moving, Brent and I have one wish - a king size bed. We love having the children in bed with us in the morning, (both usually wake up between 4-6am and we put them in bed with us to snooze a bit longer) - but we are beyond cramped in our queen. I have been on the hunt for a unique King headboard at a reasonable price - and while I love the clean aesthetic of some of the lower, platform styles - I haven’t found one yet that would compliment the vintage vibe of our bedroom furniture.

Then, I came across this monstrosity. A horrifying mix of wood and gaudy 80’s design- and I want it bad. How absolutely GORGEOUS would this be painted white or yellow and paired with a bunch of vintage pillow cases and a colorful quilt?  Have no idea where we could even store it until we move into a new place - but mama wants!

Still not sold on my vision? Just you wait - If I can score this thing for cheap, it’s gonna be awesome.

Love,

M

10/19/2011 08:40
We drove down Oberlin Road today and I discovered that my dream home is for sale for only 1.3 million dollars. I’ve always had a thing for homes that I feel Snow White would approve of. I don’t want castles, or columns, or even one of those sweeping southern plantations…
I want a house with little crisscross windowpanes. The sort that would be perfectly suited with cartoon blue birds floating above my head as I tend to my roses in the backyard and little fawns on wobbley legs clicking merrily about over the cobblestone in front of our garage.
I was actually pretty bummed when I looked through the interior photos of this home. I don’t know what I was expecting, but it’s all far far too fancy for my taste.I mean, don’t get me wrong, it is really lovely if you are British royalty… but somehow I had it in my head that the interior would work hand in hand with my flea market treasures and our rag tag assortment of hand-me down furniture.
Oh well. The outside of this beautiful abode still suits my heart just right, even if the price tag and the foofy interior decorating does not.
Love,
M

We drove down Oberlin Road today and I discovered that my dream home is for sale for only 1.3 million dollars. I’ve always had a thing for homes that I feel Snow White would approve of. I don’t want castles, or columns, or even one of those sweeping southern plantations…

I want a house with little crisscross windowpanes. The sort that would be perfectly suited with cartoon blue birds floating above my head as I tend to my roses in the backyard and little fawns on wobbley legs clicking merrily about over the cobblestone in front of our garage.

I was actually pretty bummed when I looked through the interior photos of this home. I don’t know what I was expecting, but it’s all far far too fancy for my taste.I mean, don’t get me wrong, it is really lovely if you are British royalty… but somehow I had it in my head that the interior would work hand in hand with my flea market treasures and our rag tag assortment of hand-me down furniture.

Oh well. The outside of this beautiful abode still suits my heart just right, even if the price tag and the foofy interior decorating does not.

Love,

M

10/08/2011 20:05
See this.
It’s heaven in a bowl.
One ingredient banana ice cream with crushed dark chocolate covered pretzels mixed in.  I haven’t been able to get this recipe out of my head since I first saw it.
Yesterday I popped a couple of peeled bananas in the freezer. Today I tossed them in the food processor for what seemed like a million years and the result was bananas with the creamy, delicious texture of ice cream that rocked my socks. And healthy too! At least until I tossed in the chocolate pretzels (the extra calories are worth it!)
Random fact: I’m terrified to cook dinner for any of my vegan or vegetarian friends because I don’t know how to cook a meal without using butter, cheese or chicken broth but thanks to this handy recipe, I’ve got dessert on lock down!
Enjoy,
M

See this.

It’s heaven in a bowl.

One ingredient banana ice cream with crushed dark chocolate covered pretzels mixed in.  I haven’t been able to get this recipe out of my head since I first saw it.

Yesterday I popped a couple of peeled bananas in the freezer. Today I tossed them in the food processor for what seemed like a million years and the result was bananas with the creamy, delicious texture of ice cream that rocked my socks. And healthy too! At least until I tossed in the chocolate pretzels (the extra calories are worth it!)

Random fact: I’m terrified to cook dinner for any of my vegan or vegetarian friends because I don’t know how to cook a meal without using butter, cheese or chicken broth but thanks to this handy recipe, I’ve got dessert on lock down!

Enjoy,

M

07/10/2011 18:40

Harmonica moods.

Brent will play the harmonica for 3 months straight and then not touch it for what seems like a year. In those times when he plays, it seems an extension of his hand and mouth, A flash of silver in his back pocket, or constantly visible on our dining table, in between the couch cushions, on the kitchen counter.

Whenever he gets in his harmonica moods, I am instantly taken back to the early months of our relationship. When he was a wild boy of twenty four, a bit skinny but in the best way, with jeans that hung low on his hips and rarely a pair of shoes on his feet.

It was spring, we’d just started to let ourselves be really, truly comfortable in each other’s presence. He drove a black Jeep Grande Cherokee that was always messy and full of music equipment. That silver harmonica followed him around in those months and we’d drive around, windows down, our hair whipping at our faces, and he’d play it loudly

I’d just watch him as he drove with one hand and sucked in and out on that harmonica with the other and I was certain my heart was close to exploding out of my chest with adoration.

And now, when his harmonica moods hit, I float a bit more than usual. In the same way breathing deeply into a favorite childhood blanket brings me back to my youth, I feel my heart creep into every extra bit of space between my ribs when the tinny, bold sound of his harmonica’s song fill my ears.

With every note I am reminded that he is still my wild boy.

Love,

M

04/13/2011 10:47
I came across a perfect little blue dress on ebay about a month ago that no one was bidding on. The minimum price was $7 and so I figured even though it would be months and months before I could even consider fitting into it, I couldn’t let it just slip away. It was just too pretty not to own, especially for seven dollars. Turns out no one but me ever bid on it and soon enough it was at my door.
It sat in my closet taunting me for weeks. The perfect shade of summer blue with darling open sleeves. I couldn’t even pull it up over my belly to pretend that it could fit me.
and so Kate and Nick came over last weekend for a night out and I asked if Kate would be interested in babysitting it for me during the spring and summer months until it one day would fit me again. It just didn’t seem right for such a pretty dress to sit in the back of my closet.
She sent me this photo today. Sitting out in the field next to their house on the farm with their calf Bella. It fits just as charmingly as I expected. This photo looks like a dream.
It makes me happy knowing this sweet dress is going to get lots of wear during the glorious North Carolina springtime.  A favorite friend and a favorite blue dress
Oh happy day!
Love,
M
P.S. lets start a campaign to make Kate start blogging again - nothing makes me happier than weekly glimpses of farm life on her blog, Longest Acres.

I came across a perfect little blue dress on ebay about a month ago that no one was bidding on. The minimum price was $7 and so I figured even though it would be months and months before I could even consider fitting into it, I couldn’t let it just slip away. It was just too pretty not to own, especially for seven dollars. Turns out no one but me ever bid on it and soon enough it was at my door.

It sat in my closet taunting me for weeks. The perfect shade of summer blue with darling open sleeves. I couldn’t even pull it up over my belly to pretend that it could fit me.

and so Kate and Nick came over last weekend for a night out and I asked if Kate would be interested in babysitting it for me during the spring and summer months until it one day would fit me again. It just didn’t seem right for such a pretty dress to sit in the back of my closet.

She sent me this photo today. Sitting out in the field next to their house on the farm with their calf Bella. It fits just as charmingly as I expected. This photo looks like a dream.

It makes me happy knowing this sweet dress is going to get lots of wear during the glorious North Carolina springtime.  A favorite friend and a favorite blue dress

Oh happy day!

Love,

M

P.S. lets start a campaign to make Kate start blogging again - nothing makes me happier than weekly glimpses of farm life on her blog, Longest Acres.

03/08/2011 11:01
(Photo: Snapped on my back porch the day we got engaged)
 Reader Question: i’ve always been curious, how did brent propose to you? -Eliza
You know, our proposal story totally cracks me up. I STILL give Brent a hard time about it - but really, it’s just so typical of him that I can’t help but smile thinking about it.
On a random Saturday, two years into our relationship we decided to stick our heads in a local jewelry store and just “look” at engagement rings. For months as we snuggled on the couch at night or after he did something painfully cute I’d look at him and say “Let’s get married.” He’d grin back at me and say “Let’s do it.” but that was all we had discussed.
Then there we were in that jewelry store with sparkly ring after sparkly ring on my finger. At the time, i was wearing a ring that held both my grandmother’s and my mother’s diamonds. My parents were recently separated and my mom had given it to me to have.  I always knew I wanted to use my grandmother’s diamond. It wasn’t a big diamond, or a perfect diamond, and her marriage to my grandfather didn’t end in happily ever after - but it had been on her finger when my mother was born and something inside of me just wanted that diamond to have a real love story.
So after trying on a dozen or more rings, Brent and I both decide that there was one setting that we were both crazy about. We hadn’t gone in with the intention of doing anything but looking but there he stood with wild eyes, asking me if he should buy it.  I slide my ring off so that they could take out my grandmother’s diamond and walked over to another part of the store so that Brent could hash out the details.
I couldn’t believe he was buying a ring. I always figured he’d do that on his own and I’d never know about it - but Brent is very “fly by the seat of his pants” and this time I was just along for the ride. I pulled a little piece of paper out of my purse and wrote on it “I am sitting in a jewelry store. Brent is buying me a ring. and we are getting MARRIED!!!!”  I need to tell someone and so that little piece of paper sufficed.  I still have it in a box of special momentos.
We left the newly purchased setting and my ring there to be joined together and spent the rest of the day in our own little ecstatic world. We kept exchanging sly glances at each other at dinner with friends and squeezing hands over our secret.
I didn’t ask any questions after that. I didn’t know when the ring would be ready. When or how he would propose. I just knew that sometime soon, it was coming.
The morning of January 6th, 2007 I had convinced my mom and Godmother to go to a local wedding show with me. I’d been dropping hints that Brent and I were thinking about getting married and while I was never one of those girls who had my wedding planned out before I had a ring - there was an excitement and curiosity in me to just go see.  I kept telling Brent over and over “This is no big deal. I just want to see what it’s all about.”
But he was thinking something entirely different. He had picked up the ring a few days before and had been trying to find the perfect way to propose. When I brought up the fact that I was attending a wedding show all he could think about was that he didn’t want me to go that show without being a real bride-to-be.
We had spent the day together on Saturday and he waited until I fell asleep that night. Then he drove to his house and got the ring. His plan was to propose to me first thing in the morning when I woke up. He stayed up late thinking of what he wanted to say - but I popped out of bed bright and early and he woke up with the ring under his pillow and me already in the shower.
He panicked.
(And here’s the part of the story that few people have heard. I had to modify it years ago and you’ll understand why in a minute.)
He panicked and knew that my mom and Godmother would be there soon. That we’d be off to the show and if he didn’t hurry, I wouldn’t have that ring on my finger.
So he got in the shower with me.
Just as I was washing shampoo out of my eyes, I looked down to see him kneeling down and holding up a ring.
“WHAT ARE YOU DOING!?!?!” I asked him.
He tried to start his speech about why and how he loved me but I kept interrupting.
“HERE!?!? IN THE SHOWER?!?!” I said trying to pull him to his feet.
But he kept on.
“WHAT WILL I TELL MY GRANDMOTHER WHEN SHE ASKS HOW YOU PROPOSED?!?!” I said,
Finally he told me to stop talking and listen.
It was a very beautiful, heartfelt collection of words. Brent, as most of you know, has an extreme talent for saying beautiful things and this occasion was no exception. But I remember very little of it. My heart was racing. I was half overjoyed, a quarter confused, and a quarter horrified that we were both standing there sopping wet and naked as it all took place.
(Seriously, I have never publicly shared the real version of his proposal until today)
I quickly washed off and climbed out. What was I suppose to do now? Finish blow drying my hair and getting ready when the man I loved just asked me to marry him?!?!  I wanted to run and tell my roomates- I wanted to hold his hand and lay my head on his shoulder and dream about our future. I wanted to go stand on the porch and watch that sparkly ring shine in the sun. But my mom and Godmother would be there in 30 minutes and I had to be ready to go.
So I did the best I could to keep my composure and get dressed.  “I can’t believe you proposed to me in the shower, you rascal!” I said to him as I whapped him with a pillow off my bed. He just shot me the most devilish grin.
I quickly scrambled to come up with what I would tell my mom and Kathy when they arrived. “I was just out of the shower, wrapped in a towel and about to blow dry my hair when he came in and proposed, right there in the bathroom.”
and that’s the story everyone knows.
but the real story is a true testament to my husband’s heart - he is often impromptu.  Always lives life in the moment and has never been one for big grandiose planning.
I still look at him when he’s doing something darling or sweet and say “Let’s get married” and he’ll say “Let’s do it.” And since we’ve got 3 years of marriage and (almost) 2 children under our belt I feel like it’s finally safe to share our real engagement story - but I will say this -  you can bet your life that in the coming years, if my children ask how daddy proposed, they’re going to get the edited version until they’re adults!
Love,
M

(Photo: Snapped on my back porch the day we got engaged)


Reader Question: i’ve always been curious, how did brent propose to you? -Eliza

You know, our proposal story totally cracks me up. I STILL give Brent a hard time about it - but really, it’s just so typical of him that I can’t help but smile thinking about it.

On a random Saturday, two years into our relationship we decided to stick our heads in a local jewelry store and just “look” at engagement rings. For months as we snuggled on the couch at night or after he did something painfully cute I’d look at him and say “Let’s get married.” He’d grin back at me and say “Let’s do it.” but that was all we had discussed.

Then there we were in that jewelry store with sparkly ring after sparkly ring on my finger. At the time, i was wearing a ring that held both my grandmother’s and my mother’s diamonds. My parents were recently separated and my mom had given it to me to have.  I always knew I wanted to use my grandmother’s diamond. It wasn’t a big diamond, or a perfect diamond, and her marriage to my grandfather didn’t end in happily ever after - but it had been on her finger when my mother was born and something inside of me just wanted that diamond to have a real love story.

So after trying on a dozen or more rings, Brent and I both decide that there was one setting that we were both crazy about. We hadn’t gone in with the intention of doing anything but looking but there he stood with wild eyes, asking me if he should buy it.  I slide my ring off so that they could take out my grandmother’s diamond and walked over to another part of the store so that Brent could hash out the details.

I couldn’t believe he was buying a ring. I always figured he’d do that on his own and I’d never know about it - but Brent is very “fly by the seat of his pants” and this time I was just along for the ride. I pulled a little piece of paper out of my purse and wrote on it “I am sitting in a jewelry store. Brent is buying me a ring. and we are getting MARRIED!!!!”  I need to tell someone and so that little piece of paper sufficed.  I still have it in a box of special momentos.

We left the newly purchased setting and my ring there to be joined together and spent the rest of the day in our own little ecstatic world. We kept exchanging sly glances at each other at dinner with friends and squeezing hands over our secret.

I didn’t ask any questions after that. I didn’t know when the ring would be ready. When or how he would propose. I just knew that sometime soon, it was coming.

The morning of January 6th, 2007 I had convinced my mom and Godmother to go to a local wedding show with me. I’d been dropping hints that Brent and I were thinking about getting married and while I was never one of those girls who had my wedding planned out before I had a ring - there was an excitement and curiosity in me to just go see.  I kept telling Brent over and over “This is no big deal. I just want to see what it’s all about.”

But he was thinking something entirely different. He had picked up the ring a few days before and had been trying to find the perfect way to propose. When I brought up the fact that I was attending a wedding show all he could think about was that he didn’t want me to go that show without being a real bride-to-be.

We had spent the day together on Saturday and he waited until I fell asleep that night. Then he drove to his house and got the ring. His plan was to propose to me first thing in the morning when I woke up. He stayed up late thinking of what he wanted to say - but I popped out of bed bright and early and he woke up with the ring under his pillow and me already in the shower.

He panicked.

(And here’s the part of the story that few people have heard. I had to modify it years ago and you’ll understand why in a minute.)

He panicked and knew that my mom and Godmother would be there soon. That we’d be off to the show and if he didn’t hurry, I wouldn’t have that ring on my finger.

So he got in the shower with me.

Just as I was washing shampoo out of my eyes, I looked down to see him kneeling down and holding up a ring.

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING!?!?!” I asked him.

He tried to start his speech about why and how he loved me but I kept interrupting.

“HERE!?!? IN THE SHOWER?!?!” I said trying to pull him to his feet.

But he kept on.

“WHAT WILL I TELL MY GRANDMOTHER WHEN SHE ASKS HOW YOU PROPOSED?!?!” I said,

Finally he told me to stop talking and listen.

It was a very beautiful, heartfelt collection of words. Brent, as most of you know, has an extreme talent for saying beautiful things and this occasion was no exception. But I remember very little of it. My heart was racing. I was half overjoyed, a quarter confused, and a quarter horrified that we were both standing there sopping wet and naked as it all took place.

(Seriously, I have never publicly shared the real version of his proposal until today)

I quickly washed off and climbed out. What was I suppose to do now? Finish blow drying my hair and getting ready when the man I loved just asked me to marry him?!?!  I wanted to run and tell my roomates- I wanted to hold his hand and lay my head on his shoulder and dream about our future. I wanted to go stand on the porch and watch that sparkly ring shine in the sun. But my mom and Godmother would be there in 30 minutes and I had to be ready to go.

So I did the best I could to keep my composure and get dressed.  “I can’t believe you proposed to me in the shower, you rascal!” I said to him as I whapped him with a pillow off my bed. He just shot me the most devilish grin.

I quickly scrambled to come up with what I would tell my mom and Kathy when they arrived. “I was just out of the shower, wrapped in a towel and about to blow dry my hair when he came in and proposed, right there in the bathroom.”

and that’s the story everyone knows.

but the real story is a true testament to my husband’s heart - he is often impromptu.  Always lives life in the moment and has never been one for big grandiose planning.

I still look at him when he’s doing something darling or sweet and say “Let’s get married” and he’ll say “Let’s do it.” And since we’ve got 3 years of marriage and (almost) 2 children under our belt I feel like it’s finally safe to share our real engagement story - but I will say this -  you can bet your life that in the coming years, if my children ask how daddy proposed, they’re going to get the edited version until they’re adults!

Love,

M

02/08/2011 08:34


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