Monday, February 25, 2013


In the beginning {of my blog, not the world} I posted six to seven times a week.  Eventually the adrenaline wore off and I slowed to five.

I held steady at that level for some time.

But then eventually fell to 2-3.

Now, however, I feel challenged to post even once a week. 

Why is that? 

Life has changed, for certain, but I think there is more underlining this blog-dying-slowly movement I'm witnessing. 

I offer a few explanations: 

1.  I had years of stories built up when I started. I had emotions that I needed to work through. Writing was integral in that process for me. Now I have to wait weeks, or sometimes a month, for anything blog-worthy to share. We are a fairly run-of-the-mill family. We do all the same things you do in any given week -- which never seems boring at the time -- but I realize no one wants to read about the mundane if I can't add an interesting twist to it. I don't even want to write about it. Don't get me wrong, I'm quite enjoying this calm period in life. Truly. It is just not good blog fodder.   

2. I'm learning to be still. Surprising, I know. But I've realized over the years that filling my world with more and more and more and more does not make be happier; just busier. I've said "no!" more the past few years. I've kept commitments I enjoy and shed a few others that do not add to my joy. I have most certainly made strides in not adding to my plate simply so I can insist to others that my plate is full. Feeling the need to "blog" is not something I do just so I have something to "do." I do not glorify busyness. Some days my plate is not full. I'm proud of such days and think I will have truly arrived when I maintain a standing bi-monthly facial and manicure. 

3. I want to move more and sit less. I started this blog in my 30s {late 30s for those who are counting}. Now I'm well into my 40s. I love my 40s, but my "you must have a tapeworm" metabolism seems to have failed me. I need to exercise more and sit on my butt less. I'd like to think I'm motivated by a quest to maintain a healthy lifestyle, but if we are being honest here {we are, right?}, it's mainly because I have amassed a pretty nice wardrobe in one size. Changing sizes is absolutely unthinkable. 

Yes, I realize 2 and 3 appear contradictory, but hopefully you can see why both are important. 

4. I've said this before and you've undoubtedly read it elsewhere, but my children's stories are no longer something that can be told over the loudspeaker of the internet. They deserve some privacy. As does my husband. And my friends. What does that leave? I could blog about my travails in again chairing the silent auction at my kids' school. I know you love when I get on a good rant. Look for that sometime mid-April.

5. I refuse to rant about politics. I want to. I have lots of opinions you don't want to hear. I could almost certainly ostracize the majority of my readers, but it just doesn't seem to fit my brand of whimsy. So, all that political mumbo-jumbo swirling around in my head will just have to stay there. But if you want to chat / debate just let me know. I'll gladly unleash on anyone willing. But only those willing. The rest of you are safe.

6. Pinterest ruined me. True. I've thought this many times. I used to share a cute item, cool saying, a fantasy vacation photo, or just a great recipe I found on the internet. It just felt right to share the folly and helped provide fodder when life did not. I can still do that, I realize, but pinning it is so much easier and you don't really need my commentary. It feels a little cheap to just post a quote now. They are a dime a dozen on Pinterest. I've always enjoyed providing fresh content.

7. I've not pursued freelance writing. That is the next step for a blogger. I've watched as many, many bloggy friends tred and then dive into the freelance writing market. I've not even dipped my toe in the waters. Truly, I like writing for me. When I feel like writing. Anything else is work. Refer back to #2.

8. Dinners this Week as a feature was a hit, but honestly, I repeat the same recipes so often now I cannot bear to post if for you all to see. Pork tenderloin and lemon chicken again?! Yes. Nearly ever week. I'm in a dinner rut too. Do you think the dinner rut and bloggy rut are connected? Free counseling is welcome. Comments are open.

I apologize to those of you who find my lack of  motivation to entertain you with more frequency sad. Inspire me. Kidnap me and take me on a high seas adventure. That would be blog-worthy. But having a sick kid at home again today {which I how I found the time to type this tirade} is not.

To those of you who faithfully read whatever I post whenever I post:  Thank you.

I hope I surprise you from time to time with something worthy of the time you've invested in me!

Wednesday, February 13, 2013

Pinteresting Valentines.

I have undoubtedly learned quite a bit from Pinterest. Quite frankly, Pinterest is my favorite form of social media {but please don't tell Instagram, a close second}. 

Mostly, I conclude, because it adds tangible value to my life. Other forms of social media add value in terms of interaction with friends, but Pinterest actually inspires me to do more {which you will then undoubtedly see if you follow my Instagram feed}. 

I meal plan. I make homemade ricotta. I am inspired to set a beautiful holiday table. I redecorate my kids' bedrooms {happening now}. I consider new pillows for the living room and new plants for my urns. I bake more. I bake more. And I bake more. 

Quite simply, Pinterest is a crucial tool for a challenged homemaker such as myself. 

You see, I am not creative in the least. Original, creative ideas do not bloom in my feeble mind. I simply copy others' ideas and impress my few friends who are not on Pinterest.

But I also fear I've morphed into one of those moms. You know who I mean. You were already thinking it -- the mom whose kids show up with the perfect Valentine's treat. The mom whose Valentine's box looks as if Martha Stewart made a house call.

No, I don't fancy myself a Martha Stewart-like maven. Again, I'm just copying others, but I nonetheless feel the glares on the back of my head from the other moms at school. The ones whose daughters show up with a common Valentine's box covered in stickers.

I'm sorry, moms. I swear I do have better things to do. Many, many other things in fact, all of which were put on the back burner this weekend while we created the perfect Valentine's boxes and treats. Oh, and I baked. 

The Valentines inspiration:

all photos via Pinterest {except my duo below}

The cookies I made to kick-start our Valentine's week!
I kid you not.

Boy Genius's box inspiration and inspired candy of choice. 

Little Miss Thang's box inspiration and treats of choice. 
Pop Rocks for boys and homemade friendship bracelets for girls.

I've also pinned meal inspiration for the our family celebration. But I won't show that now so as not to ruin the surprise for the Hubs {hey babe!}. 

So, yes, I am that mom. 

I am the mom who will stay up late at night meticulously formatting the stickers for the bubble tape. I am the mom that spends a good portion of a Saturday afternoon helping her kids make their chosen Valentine's box. 

And yes, I am that mom that makes heart pancakes for the entire class on Valentine's morning. And then serves spaghetti and meatballs at lunch. 

Because, I can.  

I am not that mom to make other moms feel better or worse about themselves as a mom. 

In fact, it has nothing at all to do with other moms, but everything to do with this: 

Are you that mom too?

Tuesday, February 5, 2013

THE shoe of the season.

A bit. 

But I'm more or less at terms with who I am and where I am in life. I do, as you know, occasionally wonder whether or not I can pull off a romper or shiny jeans. I fear, however, this is more demonstrative of my well-instilled {possibly misplaced} confidence than of my internal aging struggle. 

I strive to strike the balance between aging gracefully and staying current / relevant. I often say I blog because it keeps me in tune with so much of the world to which I would not otherwise be exposed. 

Until today I thought that a good thing. 

Today, however, my {barely a whisper} internal aging dialog become a booming, cackling laugh in the back of my head. All this was brought to bear by a darling young blogger {who shall remain nameless} who was super jazzed {that's my old word, not her young word which I cannot remember - because I'm old} about her new wedge high tops. 

Say what? 
Isabel Marant via Net-a-Porter
And get this:  They cost $640. 

US Dollars, not Pesos. 

I wrongly assumed this was a designer-gone-wild incident and this blogger a rogue fashionista. 

But oh no, this is the shoe of the season


Plenty of options at Piperlime

I'm speechless. 

Well, nearly. 

It is not as if this is the first trend I refuse to embrace. I'm not a trendy girl. I naturally gravitate towards the classics {only occasionally with a twist}.  

This is simply the first trend that made me think someone is playing a cruel, cruel joke on young girls by reinventing the hightop as a wedge and charging outrageous amounts of money for the privilege of looking hip {or ridiculous depending on your point of view}. 

And so today it is resolved: I am old and proud of it. I do not need to ask whether or not I can pull off the wedge high top. No input from my gracious readers is required. I am now quite ready to sit back and giggle at the trends as they pass me by. 

So from my comfy chair far, far away from Fashion Week I say, "Sport your sneakers and rock your heels. Just don't try to do it at the same time." 

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