Away and Home

A few scenes from our weekend. It flew by and left me with legs aching and bleary-eyed, winding down the road to the Coast, then inland for a straight arrow drive down the 5 South to make it home to my boys....all three.

It left me with a truly burning desire to dance again, to embrace movement that goes further than yoga. To find a Master teacher here in Los Angeles who can ignite that fire again, the joy that comes from challenge and loud live drums and other women (and some men too) moving in lines across the floor.

But home, well, that comes first. The hugs and laughs and cuddles. Witnessing Superboy and his prat falls. And giving the other one a big hug when he accidentally rammed his lip into the bench. Ouch. (But he was happy initially when he saw me).








Sometimes the best thing about leaving is the coming home.

So many things to get done but all in good time. First, a few posts about the latest skirt making. Best pattern ever. Then, some knitting, some weight loss and a great Interview Experiment. Shaping up to be a full plate. Speaking of full plates...Thanksgiving in 2 weeks? What?

Untying the Knots

The last 6 months have brought such a shift into my world, definitions and roles have changed and opened and grown. I feel like the me that resides in this person, in this body, is stretching out and unknotting parts I did not even realize had tangled.

It started with a return to work, a role I was initially hesitant to embrace. The change seemed so big, to be away from them for such a time, to focus on something totally separate from Motherhood that required skills that felt rusty and unused. I cannot say I have totally embraced the change or done a very good job at all times, but I have realized what it has given me. Returning to work, doing something I was trained to do and making some good money doing it, is empowering and gratifying. And although I feel that I miss things that I was once so used to experiencing when home on a daily basis, I also know I am getting out of a lot of the tedium of days home with children. I no longer have to prepare every breakfast or lunch, so I can embrace making dinner when I get home. I no longer have to be witness to the endless messes and mischief they can create. I miss the brilliant smiles and developing skills, oh, I miss them so at times. But I see Tim and his weary smile when I come home and I know I am escaping the down side too.

The summer brought my first trip away from them, a wonderful special time when I finally had the chance to see my niece on her turf and get to know the little love so much better. I cherished those days with her, my hands free to scoop her up or roll with her on my makeshift floor bed. But it was tough to be away from them and the moment I returned I felt so good to be close to them, the physical distance was almost too much that time.

Then Tim and I (finally) had a successful and peaceful few days away, the boys safe in my parents’ care. Days when we lazed about on the beach and made a great meal we ate sitting down, all those things you take for granted before your children enter into the fabric of your days. It was lovely and we did spend a good amount of time talking about the boys, but we also spent some time talking about or dreams and needs and thoughts…actually fully formed uninterrupted thoughts.

And now this week new opportunities came to us. A spontaneous trip to the Grand Canyon for Tim, four days with a close family member and his camera. A spontaneous trip for me to meet my sisters in San Francisco to be part of a West African dance conference. It feels odd, to be able to tell him go, to hear that I can go. The team that we always seemed to need to be from the beginning has shifted and we feel fine flying solo, for a few days anyway. I would not say it is easy to manage without my other half, but it is far from terrible.


(scenes from Tim's kick ass trip to the slot canyons)

I write this because it feels like each one of these things, these experiences has changed some part of me, revealed a little more of the person that was consumed by the Mother role for the last few years. When I took a class with a master teacher this morning, flying arms and stamping feet of dozens of women all around, I felt something break open and fly for an hour. When I lay in bed and giggled with my sisters this morning, I felt a reconnect with the younger me, the one who fell asleep and woke everyday to Amanda talking and talking and talking. Waking me from a sound sleep with her talking. When I leave the house for work or yoga class unencumbered by small boys that take forever to get in the car, get in their seats, get out of the car, I feel light.

I am not sure I like the feeling. It feels too free sometimes, as if it should not be happening, as if it in violates my role as a Mama. It feels scary, to reclaim the woman that walked confidently down city streets once in a sassy skirt and tall black boots. I wandered SF last night, waiting for my sister to get into town, alone and fairly well dressed. I people watched and had a beer and resisted the urge to pull out my huge camera and take shots of the city at night. It felt good, it felt odd, it felt a little lonely.


(scenes from our kick ass anime themed hotel room)

I am rather inelegantly saying that I like it and I do not, the untying and untangling of the Me that I am now. I know more of what I want, but I think what shocks me is that I am actually getting it. I would have never believed you in the beginning if you would have said I would have a weekend away in a trendy hotel hanging out with my sisters with no kids in sight. I know it is not wrong to do these things, to take actual real Me time, but it still feels like clothes that hang a little bit off kilter. I am sure I will get used to it eventually.


It is in the breaths between Motherhood that I realize how very much I love what I have become. Mama seems first and always, but it is nice to have those breaths.

Have a great weekends, friends. Now I have to go soak my aching legs that were just totally schooled by an insanely good dance class. And get ready for one more.

I know, I know, enough with the existential Mama posts..I do have some creating to show, including my new favorite skirt, glimpsed in the picture above. Easy peasy sewing for a lot of payback.

Happiest of Halloweens

The costumes were finished in the nick of time and donned in the early afternoon and worn to bits until the full-ish moon rose.


The boys gathered the spoils of the day in bags that became too heavy for them to carry. They particularly cleaned up on my brother's quiet street where families were dumping candy by the handful into their outstretched hands.



They ate at least 5 lollipops in record time and had some of the funniest sugar induced freak outs I have ever seen.


They ran and danced and crashed their spider appendages into every object that crossed their path. (Note to self :: Two year olds and spider appendages are not very compatible).


Happy Halloween from two little spiders, their beehive Mama and their beekeeper Daddy (taking all the pictures).


See you next year.

Almost Hallowen

My Mama always made our Halloween costumes when I was growing up. Actually, she did not always make them, but when she made them she made some doozies. My brothers usually reaped the benefits...they were fashioned into a video arcade game and The Thing in years past. I was usually some type of ballerina which likely came from personal requests from my own mouth.

I remember looking at the pictures of those years and wondering how I was cheated of the wonderful costumes that she made, but I can totally forgive her now knowing that in that young incarnation of myself, I probably demanded the pretty fluffy tulle over the awesome-ness of a costume composed totally of shredded newspaper glued to a giant garbage bag and placed over the head of my younger brother (I just saw a picture that he was uploading for his wedding slide show, but I could not find it to upload...trust me, it was awesome).

In my mind. performing a proper Mama-hood requires mandatory costume making. Without the attempt, I would equal a Mama-hood fail. Last year I mustered up enough energy to dress them and slick their hair back, the year before I could have cared less for Halloween when juggling twin 6 month old babies.


This year I started early, just a vague concept in mind. Initially I wanted to go with Lewis and Clark, turn their red wagon into a covered one and outfit them in buckskin. I Googled the phrase in images and came up with a ton of pictures, all of the pair sporting 2 foot long muskets...guess men were better off with a trusty sidearm in those times. That idea was shelved, so then I turned to the entomologist in me and determined that they would make amazing spiders.

It is now the night before Halloween as I write this and they are sleeping and I should be finishing the last of my cobbled together idea.

The costume consists of homemade hats, t-shirts fitted with three pairs of spray painted cardboard tube legs (with joints, thanks to Tim) and adorable tight girl leggings and high top Chucks. I have a bit more to do (like make the whole second T-shirt costume part) but I would rather write.


Halloween means so much again. It means excited boys chanting "Halloween" and "Nienies", it means meeting Pumpkin Jack and Sally in person at Disneyland and watching our boys choke and freeze up in front of their idols.

It means cobbled together costumes that started over a month ago and are not quite done, but damn well will be tomorrow.

This is my favorite month of the year, a month of change and death and loss and dark....it calls to me deeply.

It is also a month of sweets and coyness, play and false eyelashes...it is just perfect. I love Halloween. I remember one year when I was sick and fell asleep the afternoon of Halloween, woke to a sky lit and panicked when I though I had slept through the night, missed all the activities. I think I was 4.

So, despite a bone weary body, the knowledge that Tim is leaving Sunday morning for a photo trip to the Grand Canyon and then I leave to San Francisco when he returns, despite thinking it would slow down after the wedding event, despite all on the To Do list...tomorrow morning I will wake up, finish the other Spider legs and arms, finish my Beehive costume and Tim as Beekeeper, and then we are going to have a blast. Because Halloween is my favorite night of the year and it only comes around once each 365.

Have a ghastly ghoulish deliciously sweet Halloween, my friends. (Cue evil laugh).