...and the snow rages...

I kind of feel like I'm stuck in this weird, snowy loop. It's been a long, long, cold, white winter. And here I am, another Monday. My children sleep, I stare outside at the snowy mountains, I watch the freezing wind whip through the trees, I wonder how the hell I ended up here. Then I stop myself. Take a minute to appreciate. Fantasize about sunshine. Beaches. Bougainvillea. Count the days til spring break. Realize I have no plans to go anywhere. Money's tight. Things are in flux. Try to stop the brain. Count the days. I'm almost 37. That sounds really old. Remember being young. Aimless, weekend amblings with my sister and Melissa. So many warm days. Absolutely free of responsibility. My one paying job (the same paying job, but more pay, back in the day).

The grace of February arrived in the face of beautiful guests. My mama first, sister and niece next. They appreciated the snow and cold in a different way. The way of total fascination. Of Piper shouting, "It's snowing!" and bursting outside to stand under the flakes until she's cold again, races back inside. It feels sometimes like I moved to a foreign country. I see so much of myself in my sister, in my mom, yet my lifestyle has changed so dramatically. How thankful I am that they come here, try to appreciate and understand my very different world.

I'm trying to call on the birthday spirit, the birthday wisdom, the promise of spring, but I'm coming up short. Maybe tomorrow when we officially welcome March I'll be able to have some perspective. For now, thank you Wendy for these beautiful pictures of the cousins. So many beautiful, cold memories! The sun will shine again. It has to...

happy valentine

I love Valentine's day. I've let go of romantic notions about special presents or heartfelt cards, but love the liveliness of the day. Being a teacher helps keep Valentine's Day alive and well in my world and I go through my bag of Valentine's with the same excitement I had when I was eight. Elie had her first Valentine's school party; they wore pajamas, ate heart shaped waffles and did an obstacle course.

I treated her to a mommy daughter Valentine's lunch at Bernice's where she finally was able to pick out a cupcake. It's so funny, after so much build up, she barely ate it. Sorta sucked the pink frosting off and then just went about her business. I guess she really isn't that interested in food.

The sun was out today. That was enough to make the day feel full and perfect. I love the first sunny days in these parts. People cruise in shorts and tee shirts even though it's 38 degrees. I feel it now too. I took my jacket off with the best of them. Elie and I took our treats outside and sat at the picnic tables.


Jeff's in Seattle working until Wednesday. It's night three. I guess I've done okay. I kind of rise to the occassion in a different way when he's away. I don't expect to get a break, so I don't ask for one. I'm a good, obedient little worker like that. I've just been enjoying my little chickens. The sweet dance that happens when it's just the three of us. Simple things. Making pizza (Your's is the green one and mine is the white one, right mommy? Such is life with food around these parts... )


Soaking in the hot tub. Destroying Eliana's room. Putting it back again.


Laughing at Soli's funny faces.


Kissing their beautiful cheeks.

Eliana is such a lover these days. I think she's back after that trauma that was Solomon's birth. She spontaneously tells me how much she loves me. Yesterday we had an exchange that went something like this:

Me: Do you know how lucky I am to be your mama? Els: Aw, mom. I really do love you. Let's hug.

It was so sweet it was like something off of some goofy sit-com. But we were feeling it pretty darn intensely.

My mom also made it over for a quick trip. The new direct flights offer kickin' deals every once and a while so she made it over for a mini lovefest. Elie played hookie from school and they spent their days together. I love the way she does different things with different people. With my mom it's all about tea and buiscuits, lots of reading and sewing and make-believe games with baby Melody. My mom appreciated my culinary skills and we enjoyed lounging and catching up. I love my mom. It kills me that my children are growing up so far from her. So far from both sets of grandparents. But this is the path we're on. So I'll settle for weekend love fests.



I am so damn appreciative of my family. So blessed. Even while we seem to burn the candle at both ends way too frequently, this is all that matters. These little people. These big people. My husband. My valentines.

siblings and funny faces

I just put a bunch of pics from the past few weeks up on the computer. One thing's for certain. My kiddos can make some damn funny faces. Especially that Sol. He's a nut! And Els and the hair and the perpetual changing of costumes. It's really, really sweet.

So instead of making choices, I'll do a funny face marathon. They're all too good to pass up.

Other than funny faces, there's been a lot of playing between these two lately. Like real kids. Brother and sister. Eliana loves to climb into Sol's crib and get crazy. It's wild to watch. Like WWWF (though I've never really watched that, I imagine the gist...). Sol goes for the hair and Els goes for the full body tackle. I go for the screams and no's! Jeff's more likely to cheer them on. We spend a lot of time in Nana and PopPop's walk in closet (aka, Sol's room) where the games get wild.


We also spend a lot of time in hot water. Bathtubs, hottubs, showers.

Solomon poops more than ever imagined possible, often blowing out of his diaper. In fact, his diaper rash is so bad that I actually had to ask the doctor to prescribe special cream. But other than an extreme wipe sensitivity, Sol's fun-loving, wild man spirit prevails.



He continues to be into everything all the time. He loves to eat and enjoyed his first Baby Burrito the other night. He ate more than his sister did. Jeff proclaimed Sol was the happiest he'd ever been. I spent the next 24 hours wiping undigested black beans from a rashy bum. But there are worse things...

In other winter news, it's been really, really, really wintery. And cold. And gray. And uninspiring. The kind of weather that makes people curse. The flip side of that is when the sun comes out and it's like time stops and the whole of this little valley lifts their heads to the sky. The power of the sunshine is certainly something I took for granted for most of my life. Now she shows her pretty face and I can't help but smile, leave love messages on my friend's voice mails, bring the kids at school outside with clipboards and pencils so they can write it all down.


What else? We finally had the family Snowbowl day that Jeff dreams about. Sol and I happily spent most of it cozy in the bar with buddies and pizza, but I did manage to take one, gray, chilly, freaky run. When all is said and done, I don't really care about my ski progress that much anymore. I'm pretty content to watch my kiddos and let my man have his fun. But I will have a lot to keep up with real, real soon. Els is unstoppable. She skied down Sunrise Bowl, a run that totally freaks me out. She's fearless; points her skis down and charges. Her mama, on the other hand, continues to traverse ever so slowly and carefully from right to left, never just up to down. I'm so proud of that kid. So glad that she'll get to grow into the badass that I'm not. What a gift to give. She and Jeff are total BFF. She said the other night, How about Daddy and Eliana are best friends, and Mommy and Soli are best friends but we're all best friends together? Sound good to me.


Not a whole lot more to report. Sol's digging his new girlfriend, Alina.





They have some sweet times together and I think he's learning not to try to take her face off every time he sees her. Els too is digging hard on her buddies.


Our new favorite family thing is the family friendly Thursday and Fridays at the Top Hat, or as Elie puts it, The Dance Party. She dons whatever weird get-up she deems appropriate for that night (and unfortunately it's not always the super cute, tutu-ish outfit I want her to don...), saddles her way up to the bar for a Sprite (yup, first one ever, at the bar and now she can't let it go), gets insane on the dance floor (dancer friends, think floor work), messes with the pinball machine, and checks out every last disheveled little elf that walks in the door. I happily indulge in my love for on the rocks concoctions while people take turns holding Sol. We can actually talk to our friends because the kids are entertained. And the music has been awesome. Only in Missoula. A damn good place to be.

girl's night

I had a spontaneous, no reason party on Saturday night. I needed to have something on my blank, gray calendar. I needed to remember, exactly, why I live in this icy little valley. I needed to be with my friends without the distraction of our kiddos and their complex, wild, volatile, beautiful friendships. I wanted to sit on my sofa with a good glass of wine and a room full of good conversations.

Apparently we all did.

The mass email invites always make me giggle. They are safe. They require no feedback, no RSVP, and welcome a whole range of responses. They also keep things kind of light and vague. So at 6:15 when my kitchen was still empty, I started to wonder. Maybe there would just be a few of us. Maybe I shouldn't have made so much soup. Maybe I'm kind of a dork to think that anyone was really coming. My inner ten year old waiting for her party to start who begins to fill with self-doubt.

But then the door opened. And next thing I knew, my little house was packed with gorgeous women, the dining room table full of beautiful food, and the fridge full of beer. I finally got myself to that spot on my sofa and found myself in a conversation full of meaning. What it means to be a mom. A daughter. What we lied about to our mothers. What we really regret. What our girls may do to us and how we'll attempt to deal. What we need. What our husbands need. What our kids need. How to meet all the needs.

I don't have time to not have meaning in my life. I don't have time for meaningless conversation. Don't have time for shallow friendships. Don't have time to not just break it down immediately. Maybe that makes me too intense. But whatever. People who don't want to go there don't have to come to my party.

As I busted Madonna and lit candles to make my house smell good, I had that giddy feeling I used to get before going to school dances. I love school dances. Like I lived for them. I love big groups of goofy girls bustin' it in a circle. I love when the slow song would come on and I'd wonder if someone would ask me to dance. I can still here those mellow, sultry tunes. Depeche Mode. Peter Cetera. L.L. Cool J.

It's a question of not letting what we built up crumble to dust...I am a man who will fight for your honor...When I'm alone in the room, sometimes I stare at the wall....

The feminist in me wonders what songs my kids will be dancing too. God knows if, "A Question of Lust" was allowed at my school dances they'll be dancing to something super dirty, super scandalous. What path will we take in dealing with this all? I shudder just thinking about it. Take in a long, slow breath.

One thing I know. I will have my girlfriends to consult. And they'll be going through the same thing. Hell, our daughters will probably be sneaking out together while we're sipping wine in my living room...

So much to look forward to.

a snowy afternoon

It's been a long, snowy, blizzardy, freaky-cold day. But I got to do some good playing with my chickens tonight and am happy to report that they both have some damn good moves and an appropriate appreciation for Michael Franti.

the day to day

It seemed to have taken us about eight months to really get here but I'm starting to feel it hardcore. We are a family of four. Five if you count sweet Lucy who is actually finding her way back into the mix with marginal upheaval. Something seemed to shift while we were away. We were able to celebrate being together. Able to slow down. Elie and I fell back in love. We cut the drama and got back to our roots as a rockin' couple. And then Sol and Elie started their own thing. This thing where she talks about him and includes him in her stories and games. This thing where all he wants to do is smile at her big, grab her hair and attempt to hurl his body across and over hers. She's a pretty good sport about it all and actually has to put up a fight when he comes at her. He's a tough little lug.





Jeff and I re-streamlined our roles and quit keeping score. Sol and Jeff became super sweet on each other and he stopped just wanting me. And me and Sol, well, me and Sol are pretty much as tight as it gets. I could just let him gum my nose forever. And he would.

Coming back from almost three weeks in a tropical paradise to freezing temperatures (like...I think it was eight today...) and snow and ice can be a bit jarring, even if I weren't a Los Angeles princessa. But when I began to tread and trip a bit into the dark side last week, I reminded myself of my new plan. To take it light. To let it be. We stayed at the party late and let Eliana jump off the stage again and again. Sol sacked out in the Ergo and I had another glass of wine. I found myself in the front of a new class of twenty yoga students, ready to give them my weird, loud, rockin' version of vinyasa. A lot of them actually smiled. I did too. I had to just go with my thing. Be my authentic self.

I think my authentic self needed a good six months to settle into her new role. Mama of two. Wife. Teacher. Mover. Creative chef. Dude! Tandoori chicken in the crock tonight. Not half bad. And a big 'ol batch of daal that both Sol and Elie ate. Trying to be more mindful of the family food. Sometimes it feels like I'm the only one on that train. Well, me and Sol, cuz homeboy'll try anything. The only time he's pissed is when we don't include him at the dinner table. And he just grunts until a rice cake or spoonful is passed his way. And then he gums.



Even the pre-work/school/daycare ritual is coming together. It's still not my favorite part of the day, to be certain, but I'm trying to not muscle through it anymore. I'm kinda rollin'. I did 108 sun salutations on the 31st in a little thatched palapa overlooking the Pacific. It was awesome. But after really settling into vacation mode, I wasn't exactly in the tip top asana way. And I had a bunk finger. Towards the end I felt myself really starting to muscle through it. Then a few days later I think I had my first hernia. It went away. But it was another good reminder about why I should never muscle through anything.

Did I mention in my Mexico post how I sliced my finger the second day we were there. Making a freaking quesadilla for Elie. Hacking way too hard and fast into a hunk of soft Oaxacan cheese with the machete of the knife in our little cocina. My finger was literally gaping, two big flaps, visible bone and lots of blood. "Remember how you said fuck when you hurt your finger, Mama?"

I was in a lot of pain. More importantly, I was pissed. So mad at myself for moving too quickly. So sure that my trip would be ruined because we'd have to spend all our money at some little health clinic on my stupid stitches and I wouldn't be able to go in the ocean. Or in the sun. Or on the sand. And it was all my fault. And I wasn't mindful. And I don't really even like the word mindful really because it's so yogi chic and not really real enough for me like, say, careful. Or slow. Or calmly. Or gently.

Luckily the finger parts reassembled with the help of some gauze, alcohol and a good old fashioned band-aid. The sea water helped. So did the salty air. And I can almost bend it all the way again. I have a scar that will serve as a good reminder. Go gently. I'll bring that into my mantra of 2011.

Mind is feeling pretty full tonight. Speaking of mind full. My worst childhood nightmare came to life in Tuscon. I've had a fear of open fire for way too long. Eliana is developing fears. She fears "shooters" and mountain lions. Jeff and I were talking about our childhood phobias last night. His was, and still is, sharks. I began. Well, earthquakes and fires. And strangers. And bad guys. The night stalker. It seemed I could have gone on and on. I guess I could have added open fire to my list. I can't even read about it. I can't even go there. I feel it will halt all the good work I'm trying to do. Paint a dark, black mark across my body and hold me in his grasp. I'll slip on the ice and hold my children too tight, need to stare at them all night long, lock the doors, never leave the house. My safe valley. I think part of the reason so many of my physical problems cleared up when I left Los Angeles is because I was no longer living in the face of so many of my fears. And while fires and earthquakes and bad guys exist in Montana, something about it felt new enough to help me conquer all that anxiety. Oh anxiety. Anxiety, anxiety.

I'm sipping my calming bedtime tea and wondering why I continue to ramble on here. It's time to turn in, read my book, work on getting quiet inside so I can settle and sleep. Wait for my Prince of Peace as Jeffy calls him, to get his snack on. He's getting much better and will usually settle in for a good six hours or so until he wants to say hi. And then he heads back into his dark little cave for some more sweet dreams. Dreams of pulling Eliana's curls. Of jumping up and down. Of putting every last thing on the floor into his mouth.

And what does Elie dream about? Her baby. Surfing. The carousel. Her buddies.

When is this winter time going to be over, Mama? I'm tired of this winter time! I miss Mexico.

Like mother, like daughter.

But look at the beautiful, shiny white snow, Els! Look at the elk on jumbo. The sun is even shining today.

I neglected to mention that we were in the single digits and she probably wouldn't get to play outside at recess because it was too freakin' cold. But verbalizing the positive, even if it was a bit of a farce, got me to appreciate what I saw. The distinct shine of Lolo Peak. Her curls spewing from beneath her fleece hat in the rear view mirror. The wave and smile of the crossing guard. The faith we put in the goodness that is everywhere to move us from one day to the next.