Good manners matter.
All the kids at school who are in the cool group will only be the cool kids for now. Long term, the nerds are a much better bet.
Talent is good, but discipline and drive are better.
If you aren’t true to your self you can’t expect anyone else to be true to you.
Nothing you can do will change how I feel about you.
Even though I’m your mother I am also a human and I get angry and sad just like you do.
I know you’re convinced otherwise, but I know more than you do.
I don’t care who you love as long as they are good to you.
Asking for help is a sign of strength—not weakness.
If you smile it’s actually very hard to feel grumpy.
Your body is sacred.
Never re-freeze thawed food-items.
Always ask a girl before you kiss her.
Cooking, letter-writing and toilet-plunging are all essential skills.
The cliché: ‘everything in moderation’ does not apply to drugs or cigarettes.
If you put positive energy into the universe it will come back to you. I promise.
That’s what people ask upon hearing that I have a blog. The answer, as it turns out, varies with my mood. Sometimes this place is undeniably a quilting blog. All quilts all the time. Sometimes I share a knitting pattern or photos of a knitting project. There are a few recipes here and there. Sometimes it’s all about photos. Often it’s a running conversation between like-minded women about our daily lives. And we’ve discussed what I believe to be the danger of sharing only the pretty side of things.
But there’s an equal danger in dwelling on the difficult. How easy it would be to complain about the juggling act that is being a mother. (I believe working mother to be a redundant term.) To live in the dark moments and become overwhelmed by them. And believe me, I go there. But coming to this place reminds me to look for small goodness in the mix. The moments I want to remember are plenty but often become obscured by the bigness of the harder ones.
So, suburbia isn’t always pretty. But when the sun shines off the overpass by the prison (across the street from the sewage treatment plant)
And there might be toys on the floor but their bright colors bring joy to my moments.
And my kids exasperate me.
But I know that’s because I’m doing it right. If they were complacent sponges who never questioned anything they would be boring humans. (Right?) It’s not my goal to raise boys who can’t think for themselves. (Although it would be lovely if they could clean up after themselves.)
It’s hard. This whole thing. Being a grown up. Navigating life. But I’m grateful for this community we’ve built of women who share themselves with each other and support the idea that you’re not doing it wrong if you’re struggling.
And reinforcing the idea that stopping to notice the colors is a worthwhile activity.
I’m so glad you’re here. February was a bitch this year and you’re a sight for sore eyes.
I love you because you always bring me liberation. The extra daylight you give is a much needed dose of anti-depressant and the knowledge that full-on spring is near helps me breathe easier. Passover falls within your days and it always helps to officially close the door on winter and usher in the new season.
So far since you’ve been here I’ve:
started swimming classes with my two year old
visited with my brother (who lives on the other coast)
taken my boys on a tour of some of their mamma’s childhood landmarks
spent hours trying to remove Vaseline from my eleven year old’s hair. (Don’t waste your breath leaving me comments with your suggestions as to how this can be accomplished. I promise you if it’s a ‘trick’ for removing Vaseline from your hair, I already know about it.)
sorely neglected my dear blog
started designing three new website projects
attended the inaugural meeting of the NYC Metro Mod Quilter’s Guild
had lots of fun searching through overlooked photos to play along with ‘For the Love of Color’ week on Flickr
Before you leave I hope to:
photograph a dozen sunrises
put away my wool socks (until October)
watch my son in his first middle school play (guess what: It’s Grease. The Vaseline thing starting to make sense now?)
launch a new collaborative photo project with a friend
travel somewhere warm and tropical with my family
procrastinate about finishing a few lingering projects
paint my toenails pink.
Thanks for everything March.