Darn You, Lisa! Five Things

My sister-in-law Lisa asked me to participate in 5 Things About You thing on the blogosphere. First of all, she must smell my discomfort zone. I love that all the family blogs I read are linking each other up and opening their audiences. However (BIG however)  my natural instinct is to run away quickly. I get that itchy feeling like I got back in the good 'ole Eighties when you would receive a mysterious handwritten letter in the mail, open it and realize, Oh darn another fracking Pretty Panty Exchange letter. You don't know what I am talking about? Check out this.

For the record, I never got one pair. Not one. I mailed many, and I never got a single one. My panty mailing in 2013 would totally be sexual harassment or sexual predator or something sexual that results in a restraining order. 

And yet I know Lisa. I love Lisa. I adore Lisa. She is the sister-I-never-had Lisa. So I will acquiesce. Only because she is my dear Lisa. But be warned--I am not tagging any folks. I kill the panties here.


5 Thangs about No Basement

1) I have noticed no one can simply call me "Julie." Whenever people see me, my entire life in fact, they always say my first and last name. It was always "Julie C***K" (maiden name. I have stalkers. No joke...another story) or now "Julie Gale." Why is that? And usually with that uptick accent that makes me sound like mint julep-sipping lady of the South. The only thing "lady of the South" about me is I can make a mean chili and I like my crazies.

Mystery of the universe....why can no one simply call me Julie?

2)  For most of my childhood, I was the tallest girl in my class. I was so glad when Beverly Scott, the most beautiful person ever, got taller than me. Boys mercilessly made fun of me. They told jokes like, "If I asked you out on a date, I would be eye level to your ta-tas all night!" Okay, Napoleon boys. As a result I have crummy posture, hunkering down to most folks. In fact, I am considering wearing a posture brace over the summer to correct my shoulder blades from years of teenage self-consciousness.  

3) I hate grading papers so much I actually attempt to have as few assignments as possible to grade. I would rather eat glass than grade. I procrastinate it to the point of madness. Today I graded nearly all day. Welcome back from Spring Break.

4) I was a vegetarian through most of college. To this day, I am not a huge fan of meat. I prepare it for my family and eat it, but I could take it or leave it. I could eat here nearly every day.

5) On that note, many people wonder why I am so darn thin. They think I surely must be harboring an eating disorder. I have found three things keep me thin: a) I got so many metabolism/thyroid problems, you don't even want to know, b) I don't drink soda, and c) I deprive myself of nothing. If I eat a huge, indulgent meal one evening, I make lighter fare for the next. I eat chocolate everyday. I also don't eat "fat free" or fake sugar/dairy/butter stuff. It is full of chemicals anyway. I don't exercise nearly as much, and if I know one day it will catch up with me. I have a rather regimented eating/snacking schedule I follow to keep my blood sugar on even keel and prevent mind-numbing, headache-inducing hunger pains. Constant grazing throughout the day really helps me. Unfortunately, I have had my share of "gawd you are so thin, I totally hate you" comments in my life. Well, I don't hate me, so there.

Done! 

Later, Dudes

Tomorrow we embark on our first vacation as a family of four to Hot Springs, AR. You might be thinking, "Your FIRST!?! What kind of crazy folk are you?" Well, I don't count trips where we had to visit family a vacation. Sleeping on bunk beds in your childhood room while every cough/fart/bed movement wakes someone up is not my idea of blissful relaxation.

Oh, but this is.

Quapaw Baths and Spa

Hot Stone Massage

Garvan Woodland Gardens

 

 

I will see you on the other side, with many pictures.

Monkey Buddies

These two are joined at the hip. Totally going to teach them how to do "Sisters" from White Christmas, feather fans and all.

Sweetness

Nathan caught this beautiful moment last night. He walked in Iris's room and saw this:

Ramona crawled up on Iris's bed and decided to snuggle. This sweet moment took my breath away. I am so lucky these two have each other. I have heard the bond of sisters is unlike any other, and I am glad in this life I get to witness its beauty. 

My sweet baboos. 

Them Naughty Words Update

Does anyone ever feel the backslide? You attempt, you resolve, you promise to end a bad behavior, and it creeps back up? You resolve to exercise, have a better spiritual life, stop being so sassy, stop using CUSS WORDsssssss.......and it peters out at some point?

This morning I feel sorta funky. Perhaps it is due to the fact Spring Break is two days away. Perhaps it is because Ramona and I were sick all last week and I still went to work. Perhaps it is because I am realizing I am on the surface very outgoing, goofy and positive when on the inside I am constantly thinking, constantly questioning, constantly fighting against a current that leads to me beating myself up about things that truly TRULY do not matter and are creations of my mind.

I always wonder what causes the slip into Funkytown, and I know it has to do with my physical health. I am sleeping great, eating sort of meh, and exercising not nearly enough.

After writing my post yesterday of how I hold down the fort as a working mom, one thing I failed to mention is my enthusiasm of this life I live can ebb and flow. It always ebbs when I neglect the physical, and the physical is connected to the emotional. I like to exercise, but I also over think the fact I feel like a hamster on a wheel when I get on a bike that leads to nowhere or walk in circles around our college campus. The beneficial seems futile at the same time? See, I told you I think too much. And I like Theatre of the Absurd FAR too much.

I like to keep things positive. I don't like to wah wah wah wahhhhhhhh so much, but today I feel like being in a Snuggie and watching Portlandia.

Farts never stop being funny. Never ever ever. EVER. 

Words of the wise on how to get out of a funk? How to be funky like this:

Sly and the Family Stone....there are no words. The guy on the bottom is TOTALLY wearing a carpet.

I need the inside to quiet down and let sound more like this:

This video is such a hot mess. I am going to dress like Michael Stipe one day when I teach and see what my students think.......nope, they won't think anything is amiss. They do have ME as a professor, after all. 

As I finish typing this, my goof arse self just made me feel a bit better. Out and out. 

Outlet

Improv. The act of feeling alive. Photo by K. Holly Knuckels.

It's Enough To Drive You Crazy....If You Let It

Folks, I think I might officially be a blogger for realz. 

Exhibit A: I almost have 20 people that read my drivel. 

Exhibit B: I have made blogger friends, and 

Exhibit C: I am participating in a link up with those said blogger friends. 

Wha Wha!?! Little Miss Antisocial I'll-be-at-the-bar is linking up. Creating COMMUNITY, people. This calls for us to rejoice....with greasy hamburgers, milkshakes and onion rings!

I read a lot of blogs about folks with families, mostly written by these amazing mothers. They celebrate joys, challenges, general child goofiness, experiments in the kitchen, wardrobe, life, love, and the faith involved in parenting, and I appreciate them all. 

However, I feel a bit out of touch as most of these blogs are penned by stay-at-home moms. We do share one thing in common--we all love our families deeply and no one parenting style (working or stay-at-home) is of of any higher ground than the other. It is simply one or the other in my opinion. 

One of my favorite family blogs, Martin Family Moments, is maintained by a working mom with five beautiful children. She is rounding up the working mom to share their experiences. My thoughts below are how I "do it all." It is simply L.I.V.I.N. Yes, I just quoted Matthew McConaughey in Dazed and Confused. Deal.

Source

1) What do you do for work and why do you work?

I am a theatre professor at a large community college. Our campus student body is 20, 000. I am also a company member of an improv theatre.

2) Did your mother work?

Yes, she did. She has worked her entire life in the banking industry. She took off for five years when my youngest brother was born as my dad's work is a rather lucrative field. Early in their marriage she had to work for money. She does now because she wants to. 

3) Describe a typical work day.

My husband and I get up at 5:30am, we drink coffee and read/talk/none of your business in bed until about 6. The girls usually wake up of their own accord by 6:15-6:30am. We eat some breakfast, catch the morning traffic, dress and I am out the door by 7:25am. Iris's Montessori academy is on the way to work. She is dropped off by 7:45am, and I make it to work by 8:00am. My husband takes Ramona to her small nursery school at a Presbyterian church and goes to work by 8:45am. I teach from 9:00am--12:00pm or 2:00pm each day, grade, lesson develop, plan community outreach initiatives we have in our department, lunch in my office, exercise if I have time and am out the door by 3pm to pick up Iris. Provided it is not the fall and I am NOT in production for a show at the college, we are home by 4pm. Snacks and homework until 5pm. I am usually in the garden or do some light picking up during this time. Dinner between 5:30pm and 6pm. I love to cook, and I do so about six nights a week. I crock pot on days I have improv rehearsal (like tonight). We eat until about 6:45pm. We play until 7:15pm or watch TV. Bath and bed for beh behs by 8pm. The husband and I are out by anywhere between 9pm--10:30pm. We hang out together at night, sometimes over a drink. 

4) What's the best part about having a job?

I genuinely love to teach. I had great teachers growing up, and I always wanted to excite people, especially not "theatre kids" about live performance and its impact on our society throughout time. Plus, I love the fact I teach what I love, and not do some other Plan B job of which I have the skills but zero joy. 

5) What's your least favorite part?

I hate to grade. Yuck Yuck Yuck. I also don't like to deal with disrespectful students (a rarity). I hate the bureaucratic stuff of teaching at times. When I have a show I am directing, I love the growth of my students but dislike the 6 week sacrifice it is on my family time. 

6) What would make your life easier?

I wish we lived closer to family. My husband's brother and his family are two hours away, but we only see them once a month or so. I grew up where my family was about 20 minutes to an hour away, and I saw them constantly. I also work because my husband is finishing up his PhD and this is my way of showing my love and support for this massive undertaking. 

7) How do your children handle their mom's career?

Iris loves school and Ramona loves her nursery school teacher. She never EVER cries when we drop her off. I spend a lot of time hanging out and playing with my kids. My job is very fun, so they love coming to work with me on occasion and seeing what I do. 

8) Do you feel supported in what you do?

Yes yes yes! My husband and I had it rough early in our marriage--very poor, very young and very not prepared for being grown ups. We have weathered many tough times, and we are better for it. Whenever things get hairy in life, I always tell him, "I would never want to go through this joy/heartache/bulls***/whimsy with anyone else on the planet but you." My work also is very supportive of parents. They always have my back and know family is first for me. 

9) What are your future goals when it comes to work/motherhood?

I used to believe I would shrivel up and die of boredom if I was a stay-at-home mom. Honestly, I am a smart enough girl with plenty of things to do to occupy my time. Work isn't all of my existence. My husband will soon be on the job market. We MAY move somewhere where I will not have a job. At first, this really scared me. HOW WILL I NOT WORK!?! I am ready for whatever life throws at me, even if that is at home with a killer veggie garden, more blogging and working on other artistic projects. 

10) What are some tips that help you balance it all?

--Accept a certain level of imperfection in your life. So what if the toys are all over the floor and the dishes are not washed yet. Is anyone dead? Is everyone fed? Is everyone feel loved and safe? Boom. 

--Ask for help. It is okay.

--Say "no" a lot. I am very choosy with what will take me away from my home. I don't need to be involved in 20 theatre projects to prove anything. I don't need to teach that extra class if I can live without the money. I would rather have thousands of memories of Ramona dancing like Frankenstein (she totally does...videos to come!) and Iris performing her experimental theatre pieces than have all this money for crap I don't need. 

--Whiskey. I'll let you decide if I jest. ;)

--If you want to have a good life, you got to be organized on the basic levels. I organize hand-me-down clothes, I donate stuff I don't need, and I map out what meals I plan to make each week. I do certain tasks necessary to the house the same day each week. I do this so I am not drowning in clutter and feel in over my head, disorganized, and treading water. Honestly, a little structure makes for a great deal of freedom down the line.

--Have an outlet. If you don't leave your kids every once in awhile to work out, go to the movies, have a date, write a blog, paint with your butt, whatever....you will feel like you are running on empty. My outlet is improv acting. I like it, I feel generally good at it, it is very creative and silly and fun, and it doesn't require a lot of time away each month from home. Total of maybe four hours a month. Something you do that is only yours gives you time to let go. 

--Good music playing always. Always. 

Weaning Myself Slowly

Ladies and gents of the universe, I am attempting something you would never ever EVAH believe. It is a genuine stab at self-improvement.

I am working on using less profanity in my daily conversation.

What the funk!?! No ca ca poopy bad language? Pahhhhhhhhhhhhh.

Yes, I am an educated, well-mannered lady who loves the cuss words. It is in my bones from an early age. Growing up we had a lovely dog I named Jack, after this Jack on the telly:

John Ritter as Jack Tripper on Three's Company.

Jack had a terrible habit of chasing the cattle on our land. Nearly every time a cow moseyed near the fence, Jack would tear across the yard and do only what his cattle-herding instincts called him to do--herd. My dad would yell, "Jack get back here you son of a bitch!" so often I once at the tender and adorable age of two yelled, "Jack! Get back here ya sommmbabitch!"

Another time in my toddler years, my Aunt Debbie was pushing me on a swing. She pushed me higher and higher, and I was quite nervous. I finally hollered at her, "You're pissing me off!!!" It is now the stuff of Julie-cussed-a-lot-as-a-kid legend. 

I actually felt bad about my cussing into my teenage years. I did it as an act of rebellion, a thing that I knew annoyed the heck out of my elders and I could control. 

You might be wondering, Oh Ramona threw an f-bomb at school and now I have to watch my mouth. Oh ho ho, no. My kids know they are bad words. Iris even says, "Mommy, you just said the s-word when you dropped that can of beans on your foot." I simply want to limit it in my conversation.

My good friends and husband all had the same reaction. Good luck with that, Julie. Saying cuss words is just something I do. I don't talk like a sailor, but they are peppered here and there. They are the tao of Julie, and can they ever be severed from my personality?

I can't stop cold turkey. I am weaning off the cussing SLOWWWWLY. The first day I resolved to stop, I said five. The following day I said three. The following about four. This week I am proud to say I only said about one to two a day. This is improvement, folks. I keep joking to my husband I am going to end up like Annie Wilkes in Misery, full of repressed anger and flipping nuts. And saying words like "dirty bird" and "ca ca poopy." Kathy Bates, you are brilliant. You deserve all them shiny awards. 

Profanity Bothers Annie
Misery — MOVIECLIPS.com

Truth is, I can find a better way to express myself. Cussing makes people sound stupid, and I am not a stupid lady.

Aesthetic Building

Some things from the past I am thinking about lately.

I giggle at Christian Slater trying-to-be-Jack-Nicholson in Heathers.

Confession: I finally watched Heathers from start to finish this weekend. What an odd movie. Instant cult classic. 

Tom Hanks was brilliant as Uncle Ned on Family Ties. He takes a relatively hokey show and gives it a pulse, titling the scales between ethos and pathos with such clarity I remember it even today. I also love love LOVE when 80s TV shows got all PSA on us about drinking, drugs and huffing White Out. 

My mom sewed her own dresses, and I always thought she looked gorgeous. 

I got a Loves perfume collection once for Christmas, and it was the best gift ever. I felt so incredibly grown up. 

That is all for now.

What We're Up To

The new house is rocking my world. I finally have a patch of dirt to call my own and shape to my liking. And shape I am.

Yes, she had to sample the dirt to ensure its "yummies" for the plants. Thank goodness she didn't drink the liquid fish fertilizer......

Our back yard is the biggest train wreck I have ever seen. According to our neighbors, the previous owners NEVER EVER MOWED THE YARD. Before our house went on the market, our neighbor Jerry helped the house flippers (a very nice husband and wife team), haul about 100 bags of leaves, acorns, sticks and dead grass from the back yard. The previous owners planted all their foliage so shallow that hard rains two years ago washed them into the most random places. In the photo above I transplanted these yuccas from a place in the middle of the yard nearly 15 feet from any noticeable flower bed. 

Liriopes are in random spots all over the yard. I pulled them up and placed them in the front beds. I also planted garlic, fertilized my Brussel sprouts, cabbages and broccoli and dug a trench for my red potatoes. I also have tons of St. Augustine grass runners from my neighbor's yard to plant in the bare dirt mounds dotted all over the yard. Currently we have more weeds than grass, but we are slowly moving along.

Pictures are coming soon of all our progress. Until now, I give you the most gorgeous seven-year-old on the planet:

Face Melting Cuteness (and FB Pissin' and Moanin')

Check out my valentines. They are so flippin' cute! 

Ramona yelled, "Val-bines! Val-bines!" all morning long. Kids love mushy mush holidays. They are softening my cynical heart in so many ways. 

Oh haaaaaaiiiiii! How you been? Remember, this blog will never be the pristine output of someone with oodles of ideas or time on her hands. I always forget to document the living. I promise to be better. For you, me loveys. 

Great things are underway at our house. I plan to document more as I slowly step away from Facebook as an active means of communication. It always felt something of a fad to me, and now it is simply boring. Unless it is cute beh behs or my friends celebrating the great things happening in their lives, or my family keeping in touch, it is all a hum to me. There are only so many feckless "political" rants and somecards a girl can read. I would rather you come over and we eat a lot of cheese and we dance to the Scissor Sisters. Think about it. 

I am waffling about throwing the absolute Facebook kill switch. I will probably keep it around for the family, but not treating the "like" button as actually reaching out to someone. And if friends fall to the wayside, well so it goes. It would have happened anyway if Facebook didn't exist in the first place. Truthiness tastes like burning, and not the campfire marshmallow kind. 

Happy "Val-bines," folks! Hugs to you all. Hope to see you face-to-face soon!

Hair Inspiration

This weekend I got into a major collision. Again. I swear on a stack of Bibles I drive an invisible car. I am always being hit by fucking meth heads/dumb ass college students/yummy mummies. I am a cipher for being at the wrong place at the wrong time. Or I have magnets in my bumpers.

I don't want to talk about it anymore.

It is time to grow my hair out. I have less problems when my mane is a lightening rod for goodness. It will also provide good cushioning should another rear-ending occur.

Hair Inspiration

1) Growing Out

Jasika Nicole from Fringe. Courtesy of Fringe Bloggers

Songwriter LP, courtesy of American Songwriters

St. Vincent, courtesy of Beggars Banquet Records

May the Odds Be Ever In Your Favor

Remember the summer I had Ramona thought it would be awesome to read some Thomas Pynchon? Me either. I made it as far as the epic EPIC description of the desk, had a baby and all brain power ceased from thereafter.

I am still recovering.

I finally decided if I am to read during times of incredible busyness, then why not delve into some popular culture?

I started reading it on Monday and will probably finish it tonight. It is an amusing read, despite its incredible deficiencies. I completely understand its popularity among teenagers and young adults. I would have eaten this shit up at their age. Rough leading ladies keenly aware of the artifices of contemporary society, peppered with undefined romances and dystopian survival skills. Delicious. I would have probably pretended to be Katniss in the woods around our home. This coming from a girl who learned dance steps to Swing Kids in her free time......

I can't tell if it is so drab because the first-person narrator is sixteen, or it is just flat out horrible prose. It also feels like a smattering of Deliverance, Battle Royale, The Hunter, shall I keep going? Not the greatest, but amusing read before I nod off. I actually like it for what it is. I will give credit to the author's themes of gender as performance and furthering Shakespeare's idea of "All the world's a stage." 

I folded folks. I am reading teen literature to settle my brain after a hard week teaching Aristotle's Poetics to non-majors and production research for my upcoming play. Sometimes you just want an easy read.

Iris-Ramona Penny

Let's have a tangent, shall we? It may come back around. To celebrate ten years of meeting each other, Nathan and I had a gay ole time in San Antonio. Two years ago. I get around to writing about stuff eventually.

We stayed at the supposedly haunted Crockett Hotel, strolled about the River Walk and got a bit hammered at the Menger Bar. That bar is the shizz. Teddy Roosevelt recruited Rough Riders there during the Spanish-American War. I want to live in this bar forever.

Photo courtesy of Readcoco Blog.

As we sorta stumbled about downtown San Antonio, Nathan stopped at Ripley's Believe it or Not and exclaimed, "Let's do it!" I stared at a replica of the Eiffel Tower made out of toothpicks for 30 minutes. Good times.

Oh, and we made asses of ourselves in the Madame Tussaud's wax museum.

Lucky for you, they are on my husband's phone.

Remember that comparison chart of presidents Lincoln and Kennedy and all the eerie/interesting comparisons to their lives? They had a huge replica at Ripley's. It is one finger on the creepy, one finger on the fascinating, a middle finger on WHO HAS TIME TO NOTICE THIS!?!

Apparently I do with my daughters.

Ramona is in that fun, goober baby phase. She can interact, play games and be an overall joy and annoyance to her big sister. Iris is in first grade going on 50. She is testing our boundaries daily in the most joyful and annoying ways. I love noticing the intriguing differences between the two.The comparisons are amusing, mostly trivial, but are fun to notice. All in all, it shows us that each child is a new beginning. One different than the one before. Never expect one child to be like the other--it simply will not happen. 

Oh Hey There

Oh HAAAAIIIII, ya'll! Thought I shucked this two-bit blog, did you? Well I didn't. I took a significant break as I focused on my family, my health and living life full tilt. This blog, its purpose, and regular contribution will always be an uphill battle for me. I live rather than document the living. So if it is ten months since my last post, roll with it. I am.

So, yeah what have I done in the last ten months? A great deal, all in very positive directions.

1) Raising some truly sweetheart kids,

2) Moving into our first house (!).

3) Celebrating Nathan's badassedness with not one, TWO fellowships, allowing him to rock out the dissertation,

4) Identifying and fixing some health issues that have improved EVERYTHING,

5) Doing things that scare me/take me out of my comfort zone.

RELATED TO #1: The kids are doing great! Iris is a snaggle-toothed 1st grader. Ramona is a curly-headed rabble rouser. I spent all summer as a stay-at-home mom so Nathan could focus on his dissertation. I learned two things about myself: a) I am not hard-wired for being a stay-at-home mom, and b) the less employed I am, the more I drink.

I think it was harder being summer, but it felt we needed some activity/outing/project going on a few times a week or we devolved into eating Cheerios off the floor and watching Dr. Oz. And Iris was SOOOOOO BOOOOOORRRRREEEDDDD if we didn't have something to do every waking second of the day. I would notice my house was messy and would clean and (shudder shudder) do laundry more consistently. I IRONED clothes. There is a lot maintaining a house with sparkling floors and no one has to wear their undies inside out if none are washed. Mad props to you all who do this as your full-time vocation. I don't mind the work, but I will definitely do it with a bit of grousing. I would much rather have dust bunnies hopping along the laundry pile trail while I figure out how to build an awesome blanket fort and listen to sketch comedy podcasts.

When you have small children, the cleaning feels so futile. Like Samuel Beckett's Endgame, but Nagg and Nell learned how to get out of their trash bins. One can crawl and will eat coffee grounds out of the trash. I am Clov in this metaphor. Hamm is your inner voice with the incessant desire to gripe gripe gripe. Nagg and Nell will eff it up in 30 minutes anyway. It is all gray. Everything will have to be redone. You never sit down. I am such a effing theater nerd, I even use Beckett to describe how I feel about cleaning.

If she had a drink instead of a cloth in her hand, it would be easier.

RELATED TO #2: The great thing about being at home was all the cooking experiments. I nailed how to make my favorite Southern dish, smothered pork chops. Tyler Florence, you are a golden god.

I also did some canning and freezing and learned how to cook on my super high-tech Stove of the Future. This contraption looks like something Captain Pickard cooks his grits on inside Star Command. It came with the new house. I learned how to cook on a gas stove. Electric ones, especially ones from the future, have a steep learning curve. My poor family ate some sorta burnt chicken a time or two.

UPDATE: I was informed by my husband that "Star Command" is a separate show. The Enterprise has a food replicator that makes food at will for anyone. To which I replied, "As a maker of content on the Internet, it is my job to be inaccurate."

And I enjoyed some delicious libations. It was like a Prohibition speakeasy at least four days a week this summer. It didn't help our new house has a built-in bar and my husband makes one mean homemade margarita. The insight I gained into the summer was that doing nothing is great, doing TOO much nothing leads to alcoholism. And summer is for futility. And of great inward understanding. And smothered pork chops.

I will elaborate on on the change and settling in later posts. I am back, me loves. I will share as much as I can and as much as I want. This private girl will be more public. Promise.

Secret Santa

The names are on a sheet of paper.

The Mistress of Ceremonies is dressed for the draw.

She had big shoes to fill in the style department from last year's Master of Ceremonies.

2010 Master of Ceremonies

And the Gale family annual Secret Santa draw has begun!

Meanwhile, the locals observe the tradition with absolute befuddlement....

...and decide to engage in more amusing activities.

My husband's side of the family is scattered all over the U.S., so each year the grown-ups draw a Secret Santa. We load our Amazon wish lists, set a limit and let the giving begin! This tradition helps us save our money for spoiling the kiddos...

Iris & Ramona

Leo & Elena

Family is the elixir to all life's troubles. May the upcoming holidays bring you abundant joy that lasts all next year!

Finding the Through Line

On the tracks, not off the rails.

Warning: The structure of this post is silly but the ideas are honest. Roll with it.

Exposition

Yesterday afternoon I had drinks with a friend in town for business. We always have a nice time chatting about everything under the sun. During our visit, he brought up a question I also had on my mind. Don't you just love it when you are on the same wavelength of thought with someone? It happens every once and awhile, and when it does I like to run with it.

My friend, whom I've known since grad school in Iowa, felt he's changed so much over the years he was curious if he had an overall through line. What were the core foundations of his personality? What has remained constant through time? Meaty existence questions. 

Inciting Incident Where No Basement Rambles on Contemplation of Self

Giving birth to Ramona forced me to go inward and contemplate the self more than I've ever done in recent years. To borrow my friend's metaphor, I too have felt a quieting of the cages rattling within. And perhaps that is what the through line of any personality truly is: the presentation of your best qualities to others while you have an inward drama unfold, fraught with tumult, comedy, tragedy and sometimes melodrama. 

Rising Action of Understanding the Self

I know the little girl I was is different from the young woman I was, and the young woman I was is different from the older woman I am today. I celebrate the fact I have identified and overcome some ridiculous behavior patterns and kept the ones I think are the basis of who I am. Much like a play, if there is no change, nothing happens. And atrophy is the enemy in the action of a play and life.

We are constantly editing and adding to the script that is our lives. I believe the hardest part understanding ourselves is we hold within us all the drafts of our personality. We have to carry the past, present and future of who we are. If you know someone long enough, you carry many drafts of that person, too. This can be why we get frustrated with people--they might be referencing an earlier draft of yourself and not seeing who you are in the present. You want to say, I've grown, thank you! I am not that person anymore! Can't you see I am an ever-evolving into who I am?!?

Further Rising Action

During drinks with my friend, we were both able to say the things we are not anymore. But the lingering question was well then, what am I after all the things I know I am not?

I know I am not a person who runs away from what is true anymore. I used to feel so unworthy of honest, calm and rational love that I found any and every way to reject it. It was as if I was a moth to the flame and I latched on to anything that would be hot and colorful and scorching to the senses. I would form irrational attachments to people, places and events. I would do anything but actually accept that I was very much worthy of abundant joy and happiness. Don't ask me why, but the idea of a cool, relaxed and mature love was something I simply felt I hadn't earned. 

Climax

But damn it, I have earned every bit of it. My children remind me of it daily. Their love is so overwhelmingly wonderful I have to stop myself from tearing up at least once every day. Ramona tries to say "Ma Ma" or Iris and I cuddle on the couch and everything is right in the world.

Also, I am the luckiest girl on the planet simply because I get to be in the presence of my husband every day. I have tried so many times in my life to not accept the fact he loves the heck out of me. He has seen every part of my personality, all my goodness and bullshit and still says, "yes" to it all. That is exactly what I've always needed.

Denouement

As the drinks ended and I drove my pal to the airport, I thought more about his questions (even though I was singing The Cure and being ridiculous, I was multitasking in the mind). My answer to my friend's questions is he has always been a good person, has always been awkwardly charming and has always been a good friend to me. He's seen some ugly UGLY stuff from me and so far is fine with it. Thanks, friend. That is incredibly important to me.

As a grad student in a playwriting and dramaturgy program, we were always taught to make strong choices with characters in our plays. They must undergo some dynamic element of change or the play's action with suffer. Throughout our lives we will either grab at an earlier draft of our behavior patterns or we rewrite it and move forward. It is that simple.  

I raise my glass to the current draft of my life. Cheers to the draft you are working on or living in, dear readers.

Space Cadet

Have I ever mentioned how lucky I am to have two amazing sisters-in-law? Quite simply, they are fabulous. They both are brilliant, loving, funny, amazing cooks and the best girlie-girl posse you could imagine.

Jeanette & Jeremiah. This photo is from 2007. Jeanette likes to hide from the camera, even though she is incredibly photogenic. ;)

Lisa & Jason, 2007 BC (Before Children)

Lisa is expecting their third child. As they have a son and a daughter, they are having a surprise delivery. I secretly hope it is a girl so it can be Gale Boys=5, Gale Girls=7. For Granny Carla's sake! She needs her turn at some little girls. But, with Nathan and my track record, we might keep the girls kicking in this family.

If you are not reading my sister-in-law Lisa's blog, All Things Gale, you really should. It is our favorite niece and nephew update site as well as a wonderful testament to parenting young children, experimenting in the kitchen and enjoying the simple pleasures of life. 

Lisa recently blogged about her very early morning with the kids, and I immediately thought, Oh what a kindred spirit I have in Lisa today! Last night was a rough one for the other Gale household as well.

It all started when Nate and I had a date night. For couples with children, "date night" is when you promise to take a shower, cuddle on the couch and watch back episodes of your favorite TV shows. Canoodling if you don't fall asleep. Oh yeah, we are talking ONE HOT DATE!

After turning in around 11:00pm (late late late these days), the next conscious memory I had was Iris tapping the top of my head sometime around 1 am. She had a shin splint and was in a lot of pain. I had excruciating shin splints during my growth spurts at her age, too so I could commiserate. I don't believe I truly woke up until Nate handed me Tylenol and a glass of water in Iris's room. When she finally calmed down, she exclaimed, "Mommy, you and Daddy are the best. You never get mad when I wake up in the middle of the night and need you."

Then 2:45am rolled around and Ramona decided to get up and have a little squealing party. It felt as if I slept five minutes between 1:30am to 2:45am. Ramona started sleeping through the night a month ago (I know, right!?! I pleased the universe to deserve such a gift), but occasionally gets up to eat. Of course she wakes when big sister woke us. After a feeding and a cuddle, I hit the pillow around 3:20 am-ish. 

Then the 6:00am alarm. I turned it off and passed out. Nate get up around 5:00am every weekday. He let me sleep in until 6:40am. Screw roses, whispering sweet nothings and buying me crap--letting me sleep is one big wordless "I love you." I really lucked out with this guy.

As Lisa mentioned in her post, "What makes motherhood so remarkable is the almost automatic and willing self-sacrifice. It's involuntary and instinctual!" 

I couldn't agree more. Even a few short years ago I would waste my mental and emotional well-being on people, events and perceived missed opportunities. The person I am today is well past all that racket. I am truly proud of myself--I went from completely self-centered to selfless without a sense of self. The only challenge is I come off as a complete nutter from sleep deprivation, but the people who know and love me roll with it. 

At this moment my brain hurts, I wish I could take a nap and I want a coffee. So long as I don't believe a lobster is chasing me from lack of sleep, I think I will survive. Tired but incredibly happy.

Mixtape Monday (On a Tuesday): Battle of the Supergroups

The last Rolling Stone issue featured two reviews of new Supergroup albums--Mick Jagger's SuperHeavy  and Sleeter-Kinney/Helium/The Minders' Wild Flag. I am very MEH about SuperHeavy, but Wild Flag has some sweet guitar licks and dreamy girl vocals.

I am a fan of Supergroups as they are the emblem of the greatness of collaboration. It is a collision of musical styles and influences: the ultimate postmodern stew. Sometimes it can sound like a hot, messsy tug-of-war for aural supremacy, and yet it often can forge new, undiscovered landscapes of sound.

Below is a little playlist of some of my favorite Supergroups. If you see an obvious omission of a Supergroup, I have a) yet to discover them or b) do not like their mega mush of music. Stop, Collaborate and Listen. (You're damn right...I just quoted Vanilla Ice).

Little Bird Style Files #4: School Supply Shopping

My little lady starts Kindergarten next week, and I am so verklempt! My little baby, my sweet girl who once looked like this,

now looks like this, and is starting elementary school.

Lately, Iris added eye wear to her fashion repertoire. I like to call the fake glasses "practice." My husband and I both started wearing glasses in third grade. Little lady, your days of being two eyes are numbered.

In other news, we are moving right along as a family of four. Ramona brings so much peace in our lives. Since I was pulled away from Iris by grad school and crippling baby blues, I always felt I did a crap job of mothering a little infant. Ramona completely restored confidence in my ability.

Iris loves the fact she now has a dress up partner. Look at the ballerina dress on Ramona. It is so ridiculous, but in the good way. Grandma gifts are so much fun and silly!

Last week I did a serious deep cleaning of my closets and gave Iris all my old formal/prom dresses to wear. She is sporting my freshman winter formal dress from somewhere in the 1990s/Friends/grunge-on-the-horizon era. I am rather certain it is not going to be in style ever again. *Fingers crossed*