an extra long rambling.

I've hit a major roadblock in writing. It happens to me from time to time. It's not that I don't have things to write about, but the words haven't worked their way out of my brain yet. They're just bumping and tumbling around in there creating constant motion. I feel like it's my brain's way of telling me to slow down and ponder things more deeply before splashing them on the screen.

While I work out my writing kinks, I thought I would jot down a few areas of growth I've seen in myself recently. I believe this year in San Diego is an important time for me. While I have made a few friends here and there, I find myself enjoying the quiet life Tim and I have created here. Since becoming a stay-at-home-mom, I have relied on outings and/or playdates with other moms to make it through each week, but I rarely seek them out here. I have found a working rhythm with my girls, and while it may not be enviable to anyone else, we have fun together.

Every week (with the exception of this past week because some weeks just don't go as planned) I sit with Genevieve and teach her a new letter. We work on the same letter daily for one week. We cuddle on my bed upstairs and read different books that focus on the letter and then we race each other downstairs to the little patch of cement outside our front door to trace and retrace the letter with chalk. Chalk time with Genevieve is the best. She begs me to draw Mickey about ten times each morning, and Mickey has to wear a dress. I've tried to explain that Mickey doesn't wear a dress, but she doesn't care...Mickey must wear a dress. And so it goes for about thirty minutes before we do a bit of exercise, which usually consists of walking the dog, racing up and down the parking lot, and doing several jumping jacks. She still can't clap her hands over head, but man if it isn't the cutest thing to watch her try.

Elle usually wakes up from her morning nap just about the time we are wrapping up so I give V some much needed quiet time and play with Elle while starting lunch. I've been sitting down and eating with the girls at each meal and we talk about everything and nothing every time. I used to wash dishes while they ate, and I'd grab whatever scraps were left over and call it lunch, but I have been trying to take an active interest in being present with them whenever possible. After lunch we read, take walks, play with toys, build blocks until I'm just about out of ideas and break the news that naptime is just around the corner.

I don't mean to give you a play by play of our day because I'm sure that is terribly boring, but there is a point. I am finding a lot of joy in just being with my girls. I've disconnected from several media outlets and have found it easier to focus on whatever task may be at hand, even if that task is me just being still for a minute. I don't have a constant desire or need to call people and have them help me fill my days, and it's been really nice.

This blog post is really long already and I wanted to write about other things. My mind has gotten away from me. Oh well.

Today I took the girls to church alone. Tim will be working more Sundays now so this will become a regular occurrence. Today was our first attempt, and although I forgot to change into my church shoes before leaving the house and V forgot her panties somewhere (??), we survived. After about ten minutes of church I looked over and saw V sprawled out on the ground revealing a very naked bottom. Umm. No words for that. I quickly grabbed all three kids and ran them to the car to remedy the situation. I could only find a size 3 diaper (mind you Elle wears size 4) so I strapped it as meticulously as possible to her bum. It kinda looked like a bandaid rather than a diaper. I looked in the bathroom mirror and decided that although church was going to be a difficult experience, I was going to be optimistic. And I did it. Ashley would be proud; she is my most optimistic friend.

And while we're on the topic: I am, in general, trying to be more of an optimist. It's been a goal of mine for quite some time, but seeing as I am such a pessimist, it has been a challenging one. Every morning I look in the mirror and tell myself to look past the small, crappy things that will inevitably happen and focus on the bigger picture. Some days it works, some days it doesn't. I am also trying to own up to certain bad things that happen. I tend to place blame on others (mostly God, Tim or my kids for my bad moments or bad days), but that is wrong. Also, I remind myself daily that crap just happens. Because it does. So here's to smiling when I want to be swearing, and I mean that in a very real sense.

My word...this post is the devil. Sorry. The last thing I wanted to jot down so I could remember is that I met my brother's boyfriend Anthony yesterday. It is the first time anyone new (of a romantic interest) has been introduced to the family since Tim was introduced nearly seven years ago. I was very excited, and I think the day went well. I was so worried I'd be awkward and botch up all the years of trust I've been building. But luckily, everything was as it always is.

I have always tried to be my brother's advocate because quite frankly, there are too many people who think they have a right to tell him who he should or shouldn't be and how he should live his life. I have never tried to be one of those people, and while there have been periods in my life where I have been deeply conflicted as to how to mesh my religious beliefs with the profound love I have for my brother, I have always tried to understand him and support him on his road to happiness. And boy is he happy right now, which makes me smile from ear to ear.

Okay, that's it. I won't subject you to anymore rambling, but I wanted to get it all out there.

Matt and Anthony


  1. Way to go!! Keep that optimism shining through. You inspire me with your vigor. Love you.

  2. They look good together. I'm happy for him! Also kuddos to you for still going to church when Tim can't be there to help.


"Be kind and considerate with your criticism... It's just as hard to write a bad book as it is to write a good book." Malcolm Cowley