A confession

Photo: http://peterhbrown.wordpress.com/

Mommyblogging kind of annoys the shit out of me.

There. I said it.

Now, with that said, there are many mommybloggers that I LOVE, including all of the ones I write with at Shine, some good friends, etc. Not to mention that umm, I am one, for Yahoo! Shine. This isn't anything personal. It's just that I guess I don't agree with how much attention we pay to parenting. And when did parent, the noun, become to parent, the verb?

Look, I love being Sarah's mom more than I love anything else in my life. But what is WITH all of the mommybloggers out there? I want to hear about these women outside of their children. I almost want the mommy thing to be this really cool asterisk. Like, Oh and by the way? I'm also raising 492 children. Ya know, on the side. I guess I don't want so many women thinking so hard about being mommies. I feel like maybe, if we're doing that, it means there is something else missing from our lives.

I honestly don't believe our children benefit from all of the focus we put on them. Quite the contrary, I worry we are stunting their growth and their development. I think it's a little bit healthy to disappoint the little buggers sometimes. I think it's a little bit healthy for them to know they don't always come first.

WHAT?!  Did I just say my daughter doesn't always come first?  Oh my god, I did.

Before you run off and judge me really harshly, you need to talk to all of the people who know me, and know Sarah, and know how incredibly fabulous our relationship is, and what an incredibly fabulous, well-adjusted, kick-ass kid my daughter is. After that, judge me harshly if you'd like.

Here is an example of what I'm talking about. We were in the car the other day and Sarah says to me, "Mama? What am I doing for Spring Break this year?" I said "I don't know but I'm going to Maui."

That is a true story.  I mean, it's not like I'm abandoning her in an empty house. Quite the contrary. She will be taking care of the new puppy she is getting tomorrow, with my parents. Not exactly a bum deal. But I disappoint her sometimes. I choose me sometimes. I take off on spring break with my friends sometimes, and we leave our combined seven children at home. I am not pouring over her homework every day and attending every single school activity. I feel like her schoolwork is her responsibility. She's got to figure out how to get it done. I attend school activities when I can, but I work full time and often? I can't. It's okay.

It's okay or I'm trying to convince myself it's okay. I think it's the former, but I'm open to the idea it could be the latter.

Our kids are smart and resilient, unless we train them not to be. They don't need us being helicopter parents, unless we teach them that they do. Isn't our job to to gently push them out of the nest and watch them soar and not look back?

***

In other news, Big called me yesterday.

I KNOW.

It has been a year and eight months. I looked at my phone and froze. I didn't answer. I was thinking it was a butt dial, but usually with a butt dial there is a random full of static butt message, and there wasn't. It was a call. No message.

Do I call back? Do I text him and say - hey I missed your call, everything okay? My concern is that something has happened and he needs me. And for the rest of my life, if that man ever truly needs me, I will be there. But otherwise, I can't go there.

Houston, we (may) have a problem

I wrote a Parenting Guru piece for Yahoo! Shine about the difficulties I have trying to set a good example for my daughter when it comes to romantic relationships. On one hand, I want her to find her soul mate and all of that. On the other hand, I don't want that to be her singular focus, ever. Almost nothing is more annoying to me than women who think they can't be happy unless they have a man by their side. I don't ever want her to think that. She is a complete person all on her own.

There has to be some happy place in the middle. I think I have found that place for myself, but then sometimes things happen and I wonder exactly what example I am setting for Sarah.

Read the post and leave me a comment on the Yahoo! site. I would appreciate it!

You can read the article here: http://shine.yahoo.com/parenting-guru-modeling-life-love-single-mom-161100740.html

Sunday morning musings

Sorry for the long absence. Life has been interesting. As a matter of fact, I'm not even sure where to start or what I want you to know so, you know how this post will be. (Ramble, much?)

I think I'll start with something easy. Puppies!

We are welcoming Leroy Jethro Gibbs (Gibbs) into our home in a few weeks. We drove out to Hondo, TX yesterday to a breeder and picked him out. I was lukewarm about the puppy thing as I am fully aware of how much work a puppy is, until, of course, I met these puppies and promptly fell in love. That pup isn't actually Gibbs but a sibling, but you can see why I'm in love.

And speaking of being in love.

I've met someone. He is currently on the "too good to be true" list. I have these lists, and rules, see. He's been on the list for a bit. He's going to have to sit on the list for a lot longer due to various reasons and circumstances but what if he makes it? I mean, I've never had someone graduate from the TGTBT list. Then what?

The timing is interesting to me. I've never been more content with my life as it is. The night I met him I was on top of the world, and not looking for him. I know, I know, it's what they always say, that whole annoying "it happens when you're not looking" thing. He never took his eyes off of me that night, and he hasn't since.

I don't really have any expectations here, I'm just enjoying the ride. If this disappears tomorrow, I will be glad for the experience and never look back. I was *this close* to shutting down part of my heart permanently, and actually feeling like I was accomplishing something by doing so, and into my life walks this man and I'm suddenly miles away from that cliff. Maybe I'll start walking back towards it at some point, or maybe I won't. This experience has been thrilling, rich, delicious.

This man, and I haven't yet figured out what I want to call him, is not perfect. He is imperfect, flawed, human. Like me. Like you. Maybe it's my advanced age (said with a smile) but I am loving the flaws. Just this understanding that by this point in life, we've all been through some battles. Sometimes we've won, sometimes we've lost. Sometimes we've fought honorably, and sometimes? We haven't. And all of that is woven into who we are today. And I really like who he is today.

He doesn't live here. We don't plan to see each other for several months (various reasons for that). We are just continuing to get to know one another from afar. All of those conversations you have, that I haven't had in years. I had a really rough week at work last week and sent him some text, and he promptly called me because he was worried about me.

Worried about me? No one worries about me. It was normal work stress that I have handled alone for years and years. I was fine, as I always am. He was worried about me. It's just so... novel, in my life. And I loved it. He's in my corner. I don't need anyone to worry about me, but I sure do like it.

We can have the conversation about how the fact that he lives far away plays nicely into the commitment-phobe part of me later. I know. I'm kind of ridiculously self-aware.

Feel good stuff

Two posts in one day. You heard me. I've got to get you caught up on my stories, Internet.

So back to Vegas, of course. Friday night I ended up at a roulette table, at two in the morning, with someone fabulous. We were talking, he was gambling, I was watching. He was winning, and was very generous with the dealer, and would every now and then push a chip over to me as well. I looked down and they were $100 chips. I pushed them back over to him. He was insistent I keep them since it was "house money" anyway. We went back and forth about that a bit and ultimately I ended up with $300 worth of poker chips in my purse when I turned in.

The chips just sat in my purse the rest of the trip. I wasn't sure what to do with them. They were kind of special, because it was a really great night. Sunday morning (the day I was leaving), I cashed them in, still not sure what to do with the $300, but knowing I needed to spend that money thoughtfully.

After I had cashed them in I met up with my girlfriends for some food and hair of the dog. We had a couple of hours to kill before we headed to the airport so we did a little shopping at Caesar's, which is where we stayed for the work portion of the Vegas trip. We wandered through Gucci, and Louis Vuitton. Then we wandered into the Coach store.

A little background. My friend Amy planned the birthday portion of the trip. She found us a suite, which was no easy task because we were there during CES. She had a limo waiting for us at the airport, scheduled our spa appointments, made dinner and club reservations. She even got me a birthday shout out over the air from the cute young Southwest Airlines flight attendant who wished his "future ex-wife Clare a happy birthday." I was calling Amy my birthday Maid of Honor. She worked really hard to make it a great night for me, and it was such a great night.

Amy has three kids, works her tail off, never ever puts herself first, is constantly giving of herself and is generally just one of the best people I know. And whereas I have been known to occasionally splurge on something ridiculous for myself (or, perhaps, not so occasionally), Amy never does that.

So, back to the Coach store.

Amy comes to a full stop in front of a gorgeous Coach bag and just falls in love with it. Yes, that one right there. I look at it. $358. And in this flash of awesome inspiration that must have come from above, I grabbed the bag and took it up front and bought it for Amy. With $300 in cash and the rest on my card. I had been planning on getting Amy a gift certificate for a nice dinner anyway, but I knew in an instant what a better thank you would be.

The other girls caught on immediately to what I was doing, and why, and how, and loved it. Once Amy realized what was happening she tried to protest but as I explained - it wasn't my money. I knew I had been given that money for a reason...to do something cool with, and I knew this was it. Then all four of us cried. We all love Amy. Amy hasn't had the easiest go of it lately. We all knew Amy deserved that fun, awesome gift, and we all knew that was the right thing to do with the $300.

I have to say that was the very best moment of the trip for me. It wasn't a big generous act by me, because it wasn't my money, I was just the conduit to get something good to Amy. And it felt awesome to be that conduit. It felt better than all of the attention Wednesday night. Doing something good for someone else is perhaps the very best feeling in the world. I am inspired, by that experience, to give more. For not totally unselfish reasons. It feels good.

Turning heads

Could I possibly love being forty more than I do? I don't really think so. And I'll tell you, I think half the reason it has been so spectacularly great is because I absolutely expected it to be spectacularly great.

Let me start this little story with this: When I go out with my gorgeous friends (and trust me, I have gorgeous friends) I tend to kind of fade into the background. I'm not the girl that gets the attention, and I never have been. I don't particularly mind this, which is a good thing because it has always been this way.

Okay, with that said, off with the story of my second birthday party in Vegas.

We arrive relatively early on a Wednesday morning. We take a limo to the Venetian where we spend the entire day at the spa. We drank mimosas, we laughed, we talked, there are things I can't tell you about the spa time or the girls would kill me...it was awesome. There were six of us girls. Some of us did hair and makeup at the end of the day, including me. It was definitely Vegas hair and makeup. I didn't really recognize myself when that was all done.

Then we got dressed and headed out. AND HOLY CRAP INTERNET, I HAVE NEVER GOTTEN MORE MALE ATTENTION IN MY ENTIRE LIFE.

Now listen, I am not exaggerating. At all. There were strangers taking pictures of us, and of me alone. Heads were whipping around everywhere we went. And here is the crazy part: I was getting the most attention. Me, the one that is usually just part of the group. At freaking forty! This has never been the case before, and it happens to me at forty. I can't even capture how very cool that was. I appreciate the shit out of that at forty. At twenty? It just sort of seems normal to get looked at like that. You take it for granted. At forty, having birthed a baby, and spent four decades living with gravitational pull? You don't take that attention for granted.

I swear it was like the universe decided to give me that as a birthday present. For forty, this girl is gonna turn heads.

Want to know what else I appreciate the shit out of? My girlfriends. They wanted that night for me. They loved it. It's like I had this fabulous group of wing men. They all had my back. They wanted me to have a great night, so they all stepped back and made it about me. No one was competing with me or with anyone else. We just laughed and danced and sang and had fun. I can't put into words how much I love and appreciate my girlfriends, or how utterly fabulous they were that night. There was zero ego, zero competition, zero anything negative.

These girls even rounded up a super nice dude for me Wednesday night, not that I was really looking for that. But when the group says - that one - well, you have to give the guy a chance. We're going to call him New York, or NY for short, since that is where he lives. NY was kind of the icing on the cake that night. Very sweet, very respectful of the situation (I was there to be with my girlfriends), very attentive. Told me later (I'm still talking to that one) that part of what attracted him to me was the fact that it was obvious my friends love me a lot. Nice.

I think the word fabulous is rather overused (thanks in no small part to Sex and the City) and a bit annoying. But when it comes to forty, forty and fabulous just works. I wanted to turn forty in a fabulous way. It was important to me. And I have. I've never felt better.

Shine at Yahoo! and me

I'm excited to tell you I've been invited back as a Parenting Guru for Shine at Yahoo! What does that mean? It means I will get writing assignments related to parenting. I will write posts based on the assignment, and they will show up in the Parenting section of Shine.

I am very excited to keep doing this, and am committed to being a better Parenting Guru in 2012, which includes, among other things, highlighting the posts I write for Shine here. I think I have a bit of a unique perspective when it comes to parenting. I am one of the few, if not the only, single mom parenting gurus. I get some things right, and I get some things wrong, but if I can make someone smile, or share some insight that is helpful, or hell, even make someone feel like they aren't doing so badly compared to me? I will feel like I'm doing something worthwhile.

So what is Shine at Yahoo?  Well, it's the #1 Site for Women on the Web. And, Yahoo!'s premier lifestyle destination - with 30+ million unique views per month. Pretty cool. I love working with Shine. Everyone I have dealt with has been spectacular. Helpful, professional, fun, interesting. It's a pleasure to be associated with the site and the company.

Of course I am also in the middle of my assignment as a Get It Guide Guru for Shine. We have done four reviews: Celebrity Fragrances, Jeans, Holiday Toys, and One I Can't Tell You About Yet Because It's Not Live But I Think You Will Like It. That has been really fun. It has definitely required some time, and some work, but so far I have been able to fit that into evenings and weekends just fine, although I have had a few late nights finishing posts. That is a paying gig, so I feel a bit more of a responsibility to get the assignments done, and done right.

My relationship with Yahoo! is just, well, cool. I love it, and hope to be writing for them for a long time. And the plan this year is to write for the site more, which means writing with a little more discipline and a little more direction than I do here on my personal blog. In other words, not being quite so lazy about my writing. Although I do really enjoy the lazy writing I do here.

When you have a minute, go like Yahoo! Shine on Facebook, and follow @YahooShine on twitter. They post some interesting stuff, including the occasional thing written by yours truly.

The m word

Men. I just didn't want to put it in the title for some reason. But to keep the blog interesting I feel like I really should talk about dating and all of that.

Every now and then I'll peruse what I've written here over the last several years, and I did that recently. Mostly because I've kind of "come out" as a blogger and wanted to make sure there wasn't anything floating around that I wasn't comfortable with. But I noticed something I already mostly knew, which is that I'm a little schizophrenic regarding the whole idea of a relationship.

Sometimes? I'm ready. I want it. I want that partnership. I know what I'm looking for (which implies I am actively looking). And other times? Nope. Don't want a relationship, much less a marriage. I'm very happy and content as is and can't imagine a relationship improving my life.

The reality is, I want a relationship, and I don't. And the idea of wanting one, and not wanting one at the same time, coexists comfortably in me, and that is exactly how I want things.

I have had love in my life. I know what it's like. I know what I'm "missing." But I don't really feel like I'm missing anything. Sometimes I wonder if, in my quest to be sure I am happy, every day, with my life exactly how it is that day, I have gone too far? If I have done too good of a job of building this life of mine, without a mate, to look back, or ever have room for a significant other? But if that's true...I have a hard time seeing the downside. Because I am happy, every day, with my life exactly (give or take a little, of course) how it is.

I know that Sarah will grow up and have her own life, which is what I want for her. And she certainly will never be responsible for entertaining me. But I make friends easily, and I don't mind doing things by myself. So I don't fear being alone in my old age.

But the flip side, the "I want a relationship" side. If I did happen to stumble across someone wonderful, I wouldn't run away. (At least I don't think I would run away.) There are things about being in a good relationship that are appealing to me.

It took me a very long time to get here. There were many years where I almost felt a sense of panic if I didn't have someone. And there was always, always Big. So if a relationship fell apart, I was generally at his door within about five minutes, from that place of panic. In retrospect, I'm not sure what that was, really. Insecurity I suppose. The place I am now is a much better place. A much healthier place. I don't have a Big anymore, it's just me. And I'm okay. I don't need that kind of male attention to be okay with who I am. I used to. Don't get me wrong, I love, and need, male attention. But not in the same, desperate way I used to.

Today? There isn't all that much going on in my love life. And it's cool. I value my friendships with women more than ever. There are men in my life, and I appreciate and enjoy them, and I can check the "male attention" box. I'm getting what I need. But I am very single.

I am having a birthday party in Vegas Wednesday night wherein I fully intend on flirting my forty-year-old ass off, because that is what I do. And I like being able to do that. And I will be with a group of girls that I have a lot of fun with, and a couple of their husbands who will keep us in line and of course, act as my wing men.

My intent is to blog from Vegas (I am there entirely, entirely too long because after my party I've got four days of work) but you know, and I know, the likelihood of that happening is almost nil. But you will hear about the party at some point, Internet. 

A week in and forty still feels pretty damn good.

Surprises

I woke up yesterday morning, on my fortieth birthday, feeling happy, content, and well-celebrated. Not having clue one that the best was yet to come.

January 1st was looking to be like any other. My dad was smoking a brisket and cooking some black eyed peas (of course). My mother had baked me a cake. At some point in the lovely, lazy day we would open presents. A friend (Catherine) I really enjoy and don't see enough asked if she could take me to brunch to catch up, which was perfect. Sarah didn't seem to mind I'd be gone an hour or two.

Catherine picked me up and we had a great time catching up. On the way back to the house I noticed a lot of cars parked along the street, but this isn't unusual. My only thought was someone is having a party. We pull in to the driveway and my brother's car is there. This too is not unusual. I figured he had brought his kids over to tell me happy birthday.

As I'm unlocking the door, I see someone aiming a camera at me. And I am still so completely clueless at this point that my brain does the following to make the dude with the camera make sense: Oh, that must be KC (my 20-year-old cousin who I knew was trying to make it into town for my birthday. Never mind that I didn't see his truck. Never mind it didn't really look like KC. Never mind that KC isn't into photography and this was a really nice camera I was seeing). And then: Why would he want a picture of me walking in the door? (Me: Clue-less)

I open the door and I am completely confused by what I see and hear. There are people everywhere. There are those party noisemaker things making lots of noise.

I shut the door.

I don't really remember shutting the door, but I do remember that the whole deal just didn't compute. So I think I just figured I'm gonna go ahead and shut the door and try this again because I am not at all clear as to what is happening here.

But when I open the door again, the scene is the same. There are streamers and balloons. The dude with the camera is my friend Nicci's husband. I look right and I see a bunch of grad school friends. I look left and I see a bunch of work friends. Then I see some friends from high school, including one from out of town.

And then my brain kind of slowly starts to catch on. Umm, this might be a surprise party. For you.

And people keep appearing. And I cannot believe it. When I tell you, Internet, that I was completely and totally surprised, and I suspected absolutely nothing? It is the absolute God's honest truth. I had no idea.

And the coolest, most unbelievably amazing part of this whole thing? My daughter did this for me.

She gathered up the huge majority of people I love and enjoy most in this world. She figured out how to contact them. She sent messages through Facebook. She took my phone at some point (again, me, clueless) and pulled phone numbers out of my contacts. In one instance, she and my mom called an old boss to get the number of a former co-worker who is a good friend of mine.

My parents said she did absolutely everything she could do herself, herself. Of course, she couldn't buy the food or smoke the brisket, or buy the beer, so she recruited my parents. But she apparently had been planning and working on this for a long time, which was clear by how well she executed the whole thing.

She is an amazing person, my daughter. She did this for me. Because she loves me. Because she wanted to make me happy. Because she has a huge heart. I know I say things like this a lot here, but I have no idea, no idea, how I ended up with such an indescribably wonderful child. But my God am I ever thankful for her.

One of my favorite things about the day was seeing the interaction among my various friend groups. At one point I just stood there and watched two of my best friends from high school having a conversation with two of my best friends from work. It was so so cool. Or my good friend with a one-year-old talking to another friend with a one-month-old. People making connections. It was surreal, having everyone together like that. And totally and completely and utterly and insanely fabulous.

I didn't really know what to do with myself. I was so humbled that all of these people had come for me. I almost felt embarrassed by it, but in a nice way. For as much as I like to joke about being an attention whore, which I certainly am in some ways, this kind of attention is different. I don't know how to describe it other than humbling. I don't feel like I really deserve the kind of love I was shown yesterday, but I surely do appreciate it.

There were some people that didn't make the list that would have if Sarah had my help, although not that many. She did a great job. But you know who you are, and you know it's not in any way personal. I wish everyone I love could have been here, but it was a pretty awesome showing. I think heaven will be something like that - a party with my favorite people.

FORTY

Boom.

It couldn't feel any better.

I had the best New Year's Eve/Clare's Birthday Eve celebration I can remember.

It started with dinner at Eddie V's, which never disappoints.

Then there were front row seats to the Austin fireworks.

Then we sent our Chinese lanterns, and our wishes, out into the night and they were amazing. I didn't know they would fly so high or be so bright and visible in the sky.

And here is my first picture, age forty. I am one lucky, lucky mama.

Then we danced our little butts off.

I was so glad to be with Sarah when the clock struck midnight. We had so much fun last night. And I am so glad not to be hungover, honestly, on my first day of forty. 

Today it's brunch with another good friend, then cake and presents and more happiness. And appreciating the Facebook love from so many.

Life looks good at forty.

Wishes, and the year ahead

It's the last day of 2011, and the last day of my thirties. It is absolutely gorgeous outside. I woke up to a quiet house and made myself a big awesome breakfast. I am dining with my family tonight at my favorite spot, and then Sarah and I are going to another party where we will send Chinese lanterns out into the night with our wishes, and say goodbye to 2011.

I don't have my wish formulated yet. I am not sure what to wish for. And it feels really important, this wish. By tonight, I'll have it. And out it will go, floating in the night air, in a pretty lantern, along with my first four decades of living.

I am pretty much planning a year-long celebration of forty. I mean, why the hell not? I am turning forty in such a happy, healthy place.

I have a big birthday party in Vegas in a week and a half. If you're wondering why you weren't invited, it's on a Wednesday night and I'm tacking it on to the beginning of a work trip. This party is all of my friends from work (plus one or two who are coming out for it), who conveniently happen to be some of my very best friends. There is a suite, and there are reservations, and there is shopping to be done and much anticipation. I will be purchasing some fabulous, inappropriate for forty, dress that looks kick-ass with my new boots. And yes, Internet, you will definitely get some pictures.

Then in March, it's a week in Maui. With two of my best friends who turned forty a couple of months before me. The goal there? I want to be happy enough with my body to post a picture of myself in a bikini on Facebook. You heard it here first.

And here is what I've just added. I'm going to Europe in June, while Sarah is at camp, by myself. A friend of mine is going to connect me with his friends across the pond. I will go to the places I've always wanted to see and then let the wind, and strangers, take me where they will.

Thank you for reading, and being supportive of my writing. So many of you pull me aside and tell me that you enjoy my blog and I can't tell you how much I appreciate that. It's fun to write, and it's even more fun to know that you enjoy reading it. I wish each of you a happy, healthy, prosperous New Year. I hope 2012 is wonderful for all of us.

Gifts

I can't take off my boots. I don't remember the last time I enjoyed a gift more.

Gifts really aren't a big part of a single mama's life. I mean, who is going to do that for me? I get a little something from my parents. Often they will help Sarah get something for me, if she has her mind set on something and makes it happen. Not always. Last year there were no gifts on my birthday. I'm not complaining, just stating the facts. If I were married, it would be different.

Then the last several guys I've dated just haven't been gift givers.

I think this is why I can't take off my boots.

I keep looking around. Are you sure these are for me?

A really great thing about these boots is that they are not the ones I would have chosen. They're better. I know what I would have gotten. They would have been black. They would have been a little taller. They would have looked like most everything else in my closet, and fallen in alongside the black suede Michael Kors ankle boots and the black leather Michael Kors tall boots. And my very high heeled tall black suede boots that I affectionately refer to as my hooker boots.

But these...these are way more fun. And they are very me. I just didn't know it until I put them on. And this makes them the perfect gift.

And now I won't take them off.

Breath of heaven

Breath of heaven hold me together
Be forever near me
Breath of heaven

I have had a truly great holiday season. From the minute we hit Thanksgiving this season has been filled with friends, family, and lots of fun. More parties than I can count. But I never felt Christmas. I never listened to a single Christmas carol. I didn't go to the mall, and see all of the fun decorations. We didn't even manage to get ornaments on our tree. I didn't go to church. But I haven't really missed all of that this season. It has just been too much fun.

And then? Christmas came.

I don't know what happened today, but I was suddenly very compelled to listen to Amy Grant's "Breath of Heaven." A thousand times. And I read the letter from Sarah. And I cried. And then cried a little more. All happy, grateful tears. I would be making pie...and cry. You know, when you just get a rush of gratefulness? Is that just me?

Then I downloaded tons of Christmas music. (I love me some Amy Grant at Christmas time!) And I remembered what Christmas means. And I was grateful. And I believe.

And in a few hours today, on Christmas Day, I got all of the lovely stuff Christmas is made of. Today was magic. I felt it. I have been so distracted I never even thought about Christmas. And Christmas showed up anyway. It has nothing to do with Santa, and all of that stuff. Sarah wasn't even here. She is with her dad on Christmas. It was Christmas. It was God showing up here.

Emmanuel, God is with us. What a gift.

And then? I met a sweet someone for drinks tonight and he gave me a pair of cowboy boots for Christmas. Cowboy boots! Just the one thing I really, really wanted. And the one thing I just couldn't/wouldn't go buy for myself for some reason. Such a fun surprise. For me. Sighs.

I have had myself a very merry little Christmas.

Christmas

Sarah got me a beautiful blanket for Christmas, and I love it. But the best gift was a handwritten note from her. I won't post the whole thing here because of course, it's very personal. But an excerpt:

I can't fit how much I love you into one card. I love you more than just to the moon and back because the moon (and universe) isn't far enough.

She also, at age twelve, smack-dab in the middle of middle school, acknowledged that even when she is arguing with me, or pushing back on me about something, she knows I am "totally right" and that my motivation is always to "make things better."

I am kind of glad she wasn't here when I read her card (she is with her dad for Christmas) because like me, she isn't all that comfortable with big emotional displays, and I had a big emotional response to reading her sweet words. I really and truly could not have asked for a better gift than that one. A mother's work is never done, and it's a rare thing to get such confirmation that you are doing something, anything right. I do the best I can and then I worry. I worry it's not enough. I worry I'm missing something. I worry my best falls way short. This morning, I feel like I'm doing something right in the most important job I will ever have in my life which is raising this incredible human being.

Needless to say I am feeling overwhelmingly blessed and loved this Christmas morning. I wish the same for each one of you.

Score!

With over a week left my scale gave up the number I wanted to see when I turn forty. I did a double-take this morning. I got off the scale, and back on, just to be sure. And yes, there it was. For reals.

Here's the great thing about it. I have been supremely healthy. This wasn't a crash diet. I am constantly (and I mean constantly, it's kind of a pain the ass, really) eating. I am eating plenty of calories. I pour heavy cream in my coffee. I cook with real butter. I eat a lot of steak. I eat a lot of eggs. And a lot of vegetables. I still drink way too much wine. And occasionally eat nachos in the middle of the night.

What I'm not eating are carbs, other than what carbs are in the vegetables I eat. And I don't eat carby starchy veggies like potatoes or corn. And I avoid sugar. Other than what's in the wine I drink. I missed Mexican food terribly for awhile but at the end of the day, I like looking like this and feeling this good more than I like a tortilla chip.

I work out with my trainer once or twice a week. I don't do any cardio. I hate cardio, and I don't have to chase down prey for food or anything so I don't see the point in it. We do all strength training. This mama is strong. And of course as a middle-aged woman, I have to worry about bone density, and there is pretty much nothing better than lean muscle mass to promote healthy bones. (And yes. I did just call myself a middle-aged woman. I did. I'm cool with it.)

If you're wondering, and perhaps scoffing at my relatively high fat/high protein/low carb/no cardio plan? I just got blood work done this week and my numbers are perfect.

Forty has absolutely nothing on me.

Being a girl. And being a wiser girl.

The other night I went to a Christmas party where a fairly recent ex was with his new girlfriend who he is totally into. As a chick, I couldn't help but be fascinated to meet her so I was glad they were going to the party. What does she look like? What is she like? It didn't work between us, so what does work for him? I was just so curious. When I first got there I only saw him and thought - damn! Maybe she didn't come! But she had, she just wasn't with him at that moment.

I am not really sure why it is so intriguing, but it seems to be a global chick thing from discussions with my girlfriends. You just want to know.

I didn't spend a lot of time talking to this girl of course, but my takeaway was that she is the polar opposite of me in every way imaginable. And for some reason, that did serious good for my soul.

They looked right together. They seemed easy together. With us? We never looked right together, and there was a tension between us more often than not. We challenged each other constantly in unhealthy ways. I definitely did not see that between the two of them. I got the impression he really wants to make her happy, which was not our dynamic. But after meeting her, I get it. She is different from me, and she is different from the girls I hang out with. And those two fit; she is who he wanted. We did not fit. If I heard that once I heard that a thousand times from my friends. I would argue and deny that but of course in the end, they were all right, and seeing him with this girl crystallized it for me. That works. We don't.

This little research project confirmed one of the things I've learned this year about who I am attracted to, and more importantly, who is attracted to me. The men who have come kind of barreling into my life this year, and I am thinking about three in particular, are all cut from the same cloth. It has been very interesting. When and if I decide I want to expend any energy to find someone, I know who I am looking for. I wasn't trying to figure it out but it's like the freaking universe is saying - HEY, LOOK, HERE'S ANOTHER ONE. AND ONE MORE. FOR GOOD MEASURE. THIS IS THE KIND YOU NEED TO BE WITH.

Okay, I hear you Big Guy in the Sky. And when I'm ready, I know who I am looking for. Back to my old shrink Victor who said I needed to adjust my radar. Somehow, this year, I did it. Maybe it was ALL the introspection I did about me and men (all kinds of posts on that shit this year). But I am definitely attracting a different breed, and I like this breed, a lot. Hello, forty. We are going to have so much fun.

Yes please

A friend of mine gave me a Christmas gift the other night. It was a box of wine charms and he said - I saw this and I thought of you. It was just perfect.

The charms have words. And they are:

Dreamy

Fabulous

Charming

Sweet

Hot
Gorgeous

Are there words to describe how much I love this gift?

Nope.

Two weeks away

Alright so now it's down to the last 3.8 lbs. But if I don't lose another ounce I'm pretty happy with this body of mine at this point. I will reach forty in two weeks at a really good place both physically and mentally, and that was the goal.

I'm ready to turn this corner. I'm leaving some things behind, to live forever in my thirties. Some insecurities, mostly. A couple of dreams. But I'm ready for new dreams. I don't even know what those dreams will look like yet, but they are percolating in the back of my mind. And once I have fleshed them out, I'm going after them.

I don't want a relationship. I am astonishingly close to having a teenager in the house. I just don't want the distraction or interruption of a new relationship right now or in the foreseeable future as I try to provide as stable of an environment as I can for my one beautiful child. I admittedly want and need male attention, but I get it. I get enough of it to keep me very content. Maybe at 50. Maybe that's when I will revisit this issue. But there is just nothing in me that wants to go down that road right now.

I do want to continue to enjoy the amazing people in my life. This holiday has been filled with friends and parties and I've loved it. Life is about the people you meet and the things you create with them. I want to keep meeting, and keep creating. I want lots of nights like last night (except the part where I get home at 4 a.m.). I want lots of great talks over sushi with Sarah. I want to continue to enjoy my parents like I do, and appreciate the incredible environment I get to raise my daughter in.

I want to cook more. I want to write more (always). I want to remember my friend Kris, and honor her memory by appreciating my health and my body every day and never ever taking that for granted. I want to travel. With Sarah. With friends. By myself. I've got lots of awesome life left to live and I'm looking forward to living it.

The last five lbs

As I've written about sort of incessantly, (so it's not like you people who regularly read this don't already know this, but...) I'm turning forty in a few weeks.

I am trying VERY HARD to get down to my age thirty weight for my fortieth birthday. That is my birthday present to me. I have made great progress in a very healthy way but now I'm down to the dreaded last five pounds. And I am in a serious battle with those f'ers.

So here's the deal. I look fine as is. I am one of those people you hate. I am not happy with my weight, but I'm in great shape. I'm sorry for the obnoxiousness of it all but I know it is only going to get harder to stay fit as I age and I want to hit 40 in a really good, really healthy place and then work to stay there.

I totally understand that we gain weight as we age but we don't have to. It's just hard not to. I am ten lbs heavier now (well, five at this point) than I was when I turned thirty. But the weight I was at when I was thirty is a very healthy weight for me (trust me on this. I don't like skinny, I like healthy, and I was.) And I just refuse to resign myself to the fact that I'm going to gain a lb a year for the rest of my life. If I do that? I am not going to be healthy at 50, much less 60. And I plan on living full out until my time is up.

I've been into this little project for a couple of weeks now. I'm working out with my trainer twice a week (instead of once a week) probably until March when I go to Maui with my two girlfriends who have killer bodies. It's brutal to do that twice a week, and expensive. I'm eating right, and often, and enough. And I am freaking STUCK on those last five f'ing pounds. WHY are those such a bitch to lose?

And yes. I'm doing this during the holidays because I am a freaking glutton for punishment. I have Christmas parties every single week. Two great ones next weekend. I've mostly survived the parties thus far but I may have eaten nachos at two in the morning after seeing Bob Schneider play at a private party recently. But those slip ups are rare and come on. On a night like that you've just gotta enjoy. And for as much as I want to lose these mother f'ing last five pounds, there is some balance to strike.

I will report back next weekend. After the parties. And hopefully I will have good news to report.

Here's a little video I took of Bob singing my favorite song the other night. Before the nachos.

Glitter Gloss, by Sarah

My super talented beautiful daughter wrote this poem and I had to immediately put it here.

Glitter Gloss, by Sarah

Glitter gloss, sparkled round, put on lips, boyfriend bound

Hair pulled back, shining smile, never complete without the glitter vial

Glitter here, glitter there, come back home, lips now bare

Say goodnight, tuck in tight, and think about your glitter gloss night

Sunday morning musings

I try to reserve Sunday mornings for stream-of-consciousness-babbling from yours truly. Currently I am in one of my favorite spots: In bed, looking out my big window at the rain falling, with the dog curled up next to me and a cup of coffee to my right. I like to spend about an hour like this every Sunday if I can swing it.

Yesterday I said to Sarah: The dog looks fat. I've never thought the dog was fat before. Does the dog look fat to you?

Sarah: She ate an entire large pizza last night, minus the two slices I had already eaten.

Me: Ah. That explains it.

I swear I could see the pizza on the dog. Silly animal. An entire pizza?

Sarah and I went to a really fabulous Christmas party last night. She looked stunning in a dress she found herself and got an awesome deal on at the mall yesterday. I love that she got all of these skills I don't have. The kid knows how to shop, and even how to shop on a budget (I don't know how to do that), she knows how to do her hair, her makeup, put shit together. She is now my go-to fashion expert and I totally trust her if she tells me something looks good on me.

I took a lot of good pictures and Sarah was asking me to send her a bunch of them so she could post them on Facebook (like mother like daughter). I was teasing her a little and said, I notice you have not asked me for any of the pictures of you and me. She just gave me a look that only a twelve-year-old can make. Then a bit later she did ask me to send this one:

I said, So basically, you're going to cut me out of that picture and use it as your profile pic, right?

I was totally right. It cracked me up. I love having a twelve-year-old who loves me but is very serious about abiding by the unspoken rules of middle school when it comes to your mother. It doesn't bother me in the least. I remember being that age and I do my best to give her the space she needs to navigate those treacherous waters. I'm certainly not going to do anything to make it harder than it already is.

She ended up using a different picture as her profile picture, and it just might be one of my favorite pictures of her ever. It just captures my girl. Enjoy.