So, As I Was Saying...

I miss you guys!!!  Well, I guess, I miss writing to you guys.  I moved in May and have had a bit too much entropy to keep up with life.  I've concluded that I won't be able to completely catch you up on my experiences, epiphanies, blunders... but, I will come back to you as I can.  I have done some fun projects which I would love to share sometime soon; so please, stay with me.

For now, I will leave you with this:

Tin tiles backing open cabinets to make a fun
dish display/design element to  the kitchen.

And there's so much more to share if you'll just hang in there with me!!

Kids, Poop, Love

I love my children.  I love watching them unfold into their unique and interesting selves.

My first-born, Kinsey, has completely amazed me with her self-motivation.  I never have to remind her to study, she just does.  She has decided she wants to be a 4.0 student so she can get a scholarship and choose her collage.  I have loved witnessing this drive in her.  Hanging her towel up?  We're still working on that.



My boys haven't tapped into their scholastic genius just yet, but they have their own spectacular qualities.

Noah is happy.  He loves everyone and expects that they should love him too.  Noah makes friends with total unabashed ballsiness.  It takes him a millisecond to make a new friend in any public forum.  Meet them, invite himself into their home, borrow their toys...

Bailey is loaded with cleverness and wit.  He's fast on his intellectual feet.  His humor is often beyond his years, as is his reflection.  He's my chess-player when it comes to life.  He understands how one move will effect the next ten.  EXCEPT when he has an impulse.  Then it's all out the window (including himself, unfortunately).  

They are beautiful, miracles, undeserved gifts.  They are good... except when they're not.

When a baby (Elliott in this example) is born, he is an unmarred, innocent little creature.  Totally helpless, dependent on my mercies and foresight.  I knew that, along with his undeniable baby cuteness, he would also cry, drool, wake at unpleasant hours, and poop.  That's what babies do.  They poop.  We prepare ourselves for it.  We set up elaborate changing tables, buy diaper genies, wipe warmers, and monkey butt ointments... It grosses us out, but, something about them being 'ours', makes their poop tolerable.  And, we know that, eventually, they will potty-train, and these poopy days will just be one of our parental badges of honor.

What we may not have prepared ourselves for is the kid-poops (both literal and figurative).  There's the unflushed toilets, missed all-together toilets, t.p. mishaps, clogged toilets, and, of course, the frantic, "mom! my lego man fell in the toilet!!".  And that's all the pre-puberty crap.  (eh he.. see what I did there?)

But, I think it may be the figurative poops which catch us the most off-guard.  Wet towels on the floor, crayons in the laundry, the half-eaten yogurt stashed behind the lava lamp, poorly planned bug collections, open-mouthed chewing, complete disregard of privacy needs, ungratefulness, selective hearing impairment, door slamming, the crumbs scattered in my bed, the lack of "my" anything...  Please feel free to add to this list (it would be good to hear that it's not just my kids).

And, for some reason, other baby's poops seem to stink even more.  Here-in lies a primary obstacle for blended families... particularly of the Cherklee genre.  Klee described it well once.  He said it's like waking up with amnesia and being told, "here, this is your family, now love it."  Poop and all...

But I guess that's a core characteristic of love; knowing we all poop, it all stinks; loving anyway.  Being loved anyway...

Jar Pennies

*Clink**Clink*

Adding pennies to our jar

On the quest for

our new home...

The flowers mark our savings.  They have to climb all the way to the top right-hand corner.  Can't wait to see where this leads!

The Latest Dish

So, one of the things I love about Klee is his creative spark.  It's fun to be with someone who appreciates a good project like I do.  He embraces my eclectic flair, and contributes a great deal of his own.

As a chef, Klee has completely altered my relationship with food.  The man is an artist.  I mean, he needs his own spot on the Food Network, complete with cult following.  And, frankly, I deserve a cajones medal for even attempting to cook for him.  Fortunately, he still appreciates a good "kick ass" cottage cheese loaf, tater tot casserole, or stone soup.  (I mean, really, who doesn't?)

The kitchen here at Belmont Cottage is not chef-worthy by any means, and is lacking in certain basics for meal prep... like dishes.  When Klee came to join us, this dish deficit became more apparent.  Being financially challenged, buying a new dish set was not an option.  Hence, we decided to start our dish project, and it has been fabulous!

We have been piecing our collection together slowly.  Every piece, unique.  It has added a great deal of sentiment to, otherwise completely ordinary, objects.  In fact, we love our growing menagerie so much that we've chosen to display it on our kitchen bookshelf.

Of course, I have my favorites...

Like, I really love this little turquoise bowl because it says biscuit on the bottom

And, this little coffee mug has become my little cup of comfort in the mornings.

These tumblers and bobble glasses are so very much better than the foggy plastic Walmart cups we've been using for the past 12 months.

They remind me of the green vintage glasses I used to have in college.  Don't know what happened to those...

And, I sort of have a thing for birds.  We even found a fun Elliott's Owl plate.  Hopefully it lasts long enough for him to use it when he's older.

Our dish collection has become so special to us.  A bonding endeavor.  Pieces will break over time, which will be sad, but the collection won't be lost.  We'll just have to set out to find new additions to keep the project alive.

First Comes Love, Then Comes....

I'm sitting here (again in my chair) snuggling my most beautiful Elliott Ocean.  He has deep ocean-blue eyes (appropriately), a fuzzy blondish head, and gulps his milk so sweetly in his animal footed pj's.  I want to give him the universe.

Growing up, I always knew I wanted a family.  I wanted at least three children.  I hoped for a modest home to love, with a garden, near the ocean, in a great town that I could live in forever.  I dreamed I would share all of this with my love, my husband.  And... we would live happily ever after...

What defines "family"?  Is it blood?  Marriage?  Cohabitation?  If marriage, then what is left when a marriage dissolves?  What about babies born out of wedlock?  Aren't they still family?  I'm obviously asking rhetorical questions.  With a 50% divorce rate, enough of us come from "creative" families to understand that the societal ideals rarely frame the real family portrait.  But should we be any less proud of the family that is, when it is not the ideal?  (Ok, before you start preparing your arguments, I'm not condoning mistreatment or a laissez faire approach to commitment here.  I'm just saying, life doesn't usually work according to plan; and if it seems to, watch out.)

50%... I know I've mentioned this several times but, c'mon... fifty percent!  And that's just on first marriages.  It goes up consecutively with second , third and so on.  So, if I've failed once shouldn't I just throw in the towel?  Christianity doesn't appear to help either.  In 1999, the Barna Research Group studied 3,854 adults from the 48 contiguous states and found that divorce rates among conservative Christians were significantly higher than for other faith groups, and much higher than Atheists and Agnostics.  So, if people are supporting marriage because of their faith, they might want to think twice.


Why doesn't it work?  I can't believe that it's because half of those getting divorced are just bad people and therefore are to blame.  Maybe it has to do with unrealistic expectations; looking for the fairytale.  Or, it could be the business of it all; it is largely a business relationship.  Getting married because, "that's what we do," is also clearly flawed.  I know we've all watched friends walk down that aisle because they didn't want to 'miss the boat'.  I remember feeling that twinge of stress when I graduated college single.  


Are we just a hopelessly optimistic people? Why does anyone get married?  I've read the arguments for marriage.  Men appear to live longer if they're married.  Married people are better off financially.  The government clearly rewards the marital union with tax breaks, health benefits, etc..  There's a reduced risk of STD's.  Maybe less loneliness as well?  Probably the most obvious benefit of marriage is the team approach to parenting; good for the parents as well as the children.  


Of course, several of the above justifications could be accomplished in a monogamous, committed relationship as well, right?  Not necessarily marriage.  Yes, I've also read the statistics of cohabitation.  Women who cohabitate are 80% more likely to divorce when they marry than women who don't.  Hmmm... Well, clearly, those women were cohabitating with the ultimate goal of marriage.  And might I stretch that further to suspect that said women were living with their partners because their partners were, maybe, not as committed to the idea of marriage as the women were? Or, not as committed to the women themselves? I've also read that cohabitation is highly successful when both partners are committed to non-marriage as well as to each other.  


Then you might ask, why not get married?  If two people are committed to such a union, what's stopping them from the ultimate plunge?  I think it might have something to do with the government's involvement.  You know, sticking it to the man?  Also, with the realistic possibility of breaking up at some point, maybe they're hoping to avoid the hassle of a divorce.  There are also those who refuse to marry until gay marriage is made legal; more of an admiral humanitarian stand.   

I think some have a deeper, more romantic motivation for non-marriage.  There is something to be said for loving your partner enough to always grant them the freedom to leave.  The idea that they stay because of love, choice, not legality. And knowing that you too have the same freedom.  It's empowering to know that you have the freedom to leave, or stay and choose the relationship every day.  Maybe it's the idea of a more spiritual commitment between just the two, without the dictation from society in general.  (If only there were better identifications than: "significant other"- other? Really? "Boy/girlfriend" - seems kind of trivial, right?  And don't even get me started on "partner".  Hmmm... does "spouse" work?)

But...

When marriage does work, it's a good thing.  There's a sense of belonging, of comfort, in the bond of marriage.  I guess it feels more like family when forever is promised.  It fosters a real, "we're in this ship together," mentality.  

AND, it comes with a pretty ring and a wedding!  Beautiful flowers, long white dress with customary veil, tuxedo, friends and family... Or, maybe, like me, you prefer something a little less traditional, a little more intimate.  However you go about it, you stand with another and publicly vow, "From hence forth, wherever you go, I go.  Our home is together.  Our families are each other's.  Your joy is mine, your pain, mine."  Outside of parenthood, marriage is (or should be) the boldest and most profound commitment one can make to another.  

Perhaps that's why it is so very devastating when it fails.  And why it is so scary for those of us who have felt its sting.  

I guess, ultimately, no matter what form of union you choose, LOVE itself is a risk.  And it's what we want so much.  Even when we attempt to guard ourselves from falling, we eventually gravitate back to it.  And then we are left, facing another vulnerable soul, hoping. 

If you made it through this little dissertation of mine, I hope you will do me this favor.  Share your thoughts with me.  What do you think/feel about the value of marriage?  Why did you choose to marry or not?  What have you learned?  Were you certain beyond question when you walked down the aisle, or were you afraid?  

I leave you with this...

"A coward is incapable of exhibiting love; 

it is the prerogative of the brave." 

~ Mahatma Gandhi

Sitting In "My" Chair

Elliott's in his swing for a little shut eye.  I'm not sure how much time I have so this could be long, deep and inspiring, or, it could be about my hair again.  You know, or something about as riveting.

I'm sitting in "my" chair.  Everyone knows it's mine.  I've kind of earned a bit of a reputation about it.  It is sometimes referred to as my thrown.  Anyway, I'm sitting here with the windows open because, apparently, it's spring now.  (Don't get me wrong, the weather's lovely, it's just that I'm a fan of winter, so I'm feeling a little cheated.)  I'm listening to the kids playing in the park outside my window, along with the hum of the freeway.

I like sitting here.  I like the view.  I have garden lights strung over my patio.  They make me happy.  And the blossoms all over the well-aged trees are so pretty.  My little patio isn't enough for my three dogs, my kids' gear, the AC unit, and the two unacceptable garbage cans which I'm forced to house out there.  But it's pretty to look at through my sliding glass door.  Some day, I'll have a more user-friendly garden.  I try not to dwell on that too much though.  I get impatient and discontented with what I have when I dwell; and that does me no good as this is where I am for now.  Someday I'll move, but not today.  Today, I'm sitting on my thrown and view is nice from here.

I've put a lot of love into this little home.  It has served us well.  I think we may be tipping the comfort scale a bit though.  Three to a room is kind of tight.  Especially for Klee, who, up till now, has had only himself to manage.  What's that?  You wanted to sit on the toilet... alone?  Yes, that is the normal amount of laundry.  Dogs do that.  They do.  It's perfectly normal for them to drag their butts across the floor while you're trying to eat your dinner.

For now, we live here, at Belmont Cottage.  And Klee's doing grea... err.. he's doing fi... he's still here.  And that's say'n something.

I'm always tweaking things around here.  Searching for better ways to make a two bedroom home function well for all of us.  I even have dreams that I'm walking through my house and suddenly I discover all sorts of rooms that I didn't now I had.  It's very exciting.  Of course I start decorating my new spaces just about the time I wake up.

But, I wake up in my cozy bed with fluffy blankets, in my sweet nursery/bedroom with branches on my walls.  When we make coffee it makes the whole house smell like comfort.  I see trees from every window, and my boys have climbed them all.  And when the garden lights are on, it sparkles everywhere.

Again With the Hair

This is a photo of my current root situation.

I'd like to say that I've done this on purpose - you know, the whole, "Ya, these are my very obvious roots; what of it" style.   But, no.  This would just be another reflection of my current financial status.  Of course, now that I've grown them out this far, I'm trying to decide my next course of action (or inaction, as it were).  Klee and I have been trying to identify my natural color.  The best we've come up with is Dust.  Like the film on my unpolished furniture.  I'm contemplating growing the dust out and embracing it.  Maybe not the best timing with my 20 year high school reunion fast approaching. 

OH! 

But, I did cut my hair...

 all by myself!

Just don't look too close.