Wordless Wednesday: First Pedicure

Friday Favorite: It's in the eye of the beholder

Me: (wiping at a smudge) What on earth is this yucky gunk on your face?
Alexandra: (batting her eyes) It's a beauty mark.

Placing sprinkles on bananas and peanut butter

She sleeps in a tiara, wears a tutu with sweatpants, and fights with her brother over whether her imaginary jewelry makes rainbows or not.

Perspective is a magical thing.  If one looks from the wrong angle, life can be pretty dirty and ugly. I want to borrow my daughter's viewpoint. Maybe she wears a lot of bandaids because she gets scraped up along the way, but she embraces her pretty bandages as accessories. If she can turn a chocolate covered scrape under her eye into a beauty mark, then what else can transform with the right attitude?

Has anyone seen my...?

I point at the unwrapped box in Garrett's hand. "What's that?"

"It's because one of you is always losing your keys," my mom repeats.

What?  

"I lose my phone all the time." We have special places for our keys. They are rarely misplaced.

Garrett says if there were a nature show about me, the Call of the Brandi would be has anyone seen my phone?

But it's the thought that counts, so we thank my parents.

Two weeks later...

Running from room to room, I quiz the kids with the same daily questions. "Where is my phone? Has anyone seen my phone?"

Max grins. "Why don't you use your key finder?"

I don't know where he gets such a smart mouth.

What about you? If you could put a tracking device on something, what would it be? 

Princess Alexandra

Princess Alexandra loves playing with other princesses. Boys, however, are another story.

















:Would you like to dance?


Alexandra turns her back on him.

: Would you like to dance?

: No. No. Go away. You can't dance with us.  Go away.

: May I have this dance?

She hurls the prince across the room.

Then she looks up.

:Superman? (She thrusts Superman at me and batts her eyes.) Talk to me, Superman. Talk to me. (She sways to music only she and the little princesses clutched in her fists can hear.) Dance?


Okie dokie.  No normal guy. No prince. The girl has standards.  She wants Superman.

I can live with that.

Talking Turkey

My mind flew all over the place. I might have talked up this craft thing a bit much. I possess no gift for glitter and glue. In fact, it makes me a tad nervous.

But my friend Lisa had just taught a Thanksgiving song to our four enthusiastic preschoolers and toddler, and I couldn't resist the great segue.

And a mother is obliged to help her little turkeys spread their wings.

And I had a lot of toilet paper rolls ready for recycling.

The kids were all giggles and excitement. The baby loaded wiggly eyes in her mouth. The preschoolers grappled for the too-few scissors.

I panicked.

Clasping my hands, I tried to look more delighted than desperate. "Next, we're going to trace each others hands!" My knuckles were white. Might they jab each other with the giant pencils?

Nope.

The big brothers traced their sisters' dimpled little hands. The little sisters traced their brothers'. They cut some paper and smeared some glue before skedaddling off to dump boxes and rummage through book shelves and wrestle.

I wanted to quit more than once, but Lisa powered through. So I did, too.

Let me introduce you to our turkey:

Yes, that's a turkey.

I got the idea on Pinterest. It was supposed to look different.

Of course.

Pinterest: the place where moms everywhere "pin" their delusions of grandeur.

According to the many photos on Pinterest, our art should look more like a bird and less like some modern statement of the cock-eyed insanity that is the holiday season.

But that's why I love it.

The messy parts make life memorable and unique. Striving for perfect Pinterest holidays or prime-time tv ideal ultimately leads to disappointment. Reality can not live up to the fantasy.

During holiday season 2013, I plan to embrace the cock-eyed individuality of the moment. This year, I hope to find beauty and happiness and thankfulness in the authentic.

How about you?  Have you ever had a fantasy holiday/event/moment turned upside down...and been happier for it? Tell me about it.

If you'd like to focus on stress-busting this holiday season, check out Dr. Lisa Marotta's series on her blog here.

Happy Fall, Y'all

My husband navigated the winding road in the twilight.  In October, the bone-like trees might look creepy stretching into the crisp air and silhouetted against the sky, but the car was warm with contentment.  

This, I thought, this is one of those days I longed for when doctors told us a family wasn't in our future.

Sometimes I time my kids to see how long they can go before whining or doing something obnoxious to the other like Alexandra kicking Max or Max telling her everything she does is wrong. (FYI: This morning the record was 8 minutes.)

But this weekend was filled with those moments of wonder a to-be parent longs for.

At Peek-a-Boo Petting Zoo we discovered baby chicks...

baby bottles....

bunnies...

a hay maze...

fishing for rubber duckies...

 and a princess with her pumpkin.

We topped off the day with dinner at Soda Steve's, a fun soda shop that would fit right into a show like Gilmore Girls or Hart of Dixie.

The next day we decided to take our little knight and princess to the Castle in Muskogee for Pumpkin Kingdom.

Lots of scary things lurked within the castle walls and in the village after dark,

but we opted for a hayride,

balloon sword and doggie, 

and a bouncy house (apparently, this was scary).  

We had a great weekend with our little pumpkins.

And I'm so glad. Making memories is important.  One never knows what's lurking around the bend.

(For me, I'm pretty sure it's a mountain of laundry populated with giant dust bunnies.)

Happy fall, ya'll.

Gnomes at Our Chateau

I spent the weekend with gnomes. Alexandra twists the tips of their hats each time she arrives at our chateau. (Okay, it's an old camper ya'll, but it's on a hill, so I call it The Chateau.)

Being so close to nature makes me realize how small I am.

The chiggers remind me that no matter how big I am little things can get to me.

But the gnomes never falter. These little guys work hard.

They also know when to take it easy and add whimsy to the world.

I wish I could harness their magic.

After all, it's their world, too.

Sink or Swim

When we took this photo, we had no idea how much we truly were living on the edge. 

We were on vacation.  When nothing bad can happen. Right?

We were so naive.

When we decided to leave the pool, we removed the kids' life jackets. As he has so often done, Max declared that he didn't need swimming lessons or a life jacket because he already knew how to swim.

Then he jumped in.

We've all heard the saying "sink or swim." I figured he'd get a little scared and then realize that some skills need to be learned. Maybe, I thought, this would be a good lesson.

We all watched him. He was only a couple of feet from me. He seemed fine. Maybe Max had been right all along and he truly could swim.  He has a build similar to Olympian Michael Phelps --long body, big feet, broad shoulders.  Maybe he would show us all. Good for him.

His eyes were wide and he had a dazed smile on his face--like maybe he was surprised.  He moved his arms and legs like he was trying to move toward the stairs and climb them. He opened his mouth as if to speak and then closed it.

That's when Garrett jumped in and pulled him into his arms.

Thank God.   Thank God Garrett was there.  Reality punched me in the gut.  We'd all been watching him struggle right in front of me, but I thought he was okay. Thank God Garrett was there.

Not long after we returned a friend posted this article on Facebook, and I lost it.  Full blown tears. If I'd been unnerved at the pool, I was terrified when I read the article. We are so, so lucky.

Read this article.  Drowning doesn't look like it does on television.  Know the signs.

Max splashed through his first official swim lesson today.  He wasn't scared, and he didn't have false bravado either. When the instructor asked for a volunteer, I heard his little voice ring out. "I can try."

And he did.

The Getaway

On Mother's Day, I received flowers and an envelope. I nervously slid my finger under the flap because I expected to see flight and hotel information for the SCBWI LA conference.

Don't get me wrong: I'm not oblivious to the generosity! Garrett had pressured me to attend since I told him it was supposed to be a great conference--even better than the NY one I attended a few years ago.

When I told him I needed to finish some details on my book before it was ready to pitch, he insisted...until I compared  it to him going to the Tour de France and being almost ready to compete.

After that, I suspected he might buy me a bike.

Instead, the envelope held confirmation information for two nights at a hotel. 

Last weekend, I lost myself in the final polishing touches of my book. Meals were delivered to my door.  Garrett had even booked a massage.

Room keys for my computer and me.

Best. Gift. Ever.

At 8:52 PM on Saturday night, I celebrated the completion of Society of Legions with Hershey's kisses and a small bottle of wine.

What's your idea of a self-indulgent fantasy weekend getaway just for you?

Taking Flight

A family friend was watching our children recently when she witnessed a baby bird dangling from the nest on our patio. A wire was wrapped around the baby bird's leg and wing.  Wearing gloves, Beth carefully freed the robin.  When she replaced it in its nest, however, the little birds inside knocked it out again.  Beth caught it mid-air and returned it carefully to the nest.  Mommy bird rushed up immediately and fed him. 

Garrett saw all of the birds learning to fly the next day.  Now, they're gone.

Another robin couple considered the children's fort a suitable place to build a nest. But something happened.  They haven't hatched.  They never will.

Those baby birds will never take risks, take flight, or leave the nest.

These two little eggs are good reminders for me during graduation season.  Max informed anyone who would listen that he was not going to stay for a local church's Mother's Day Out, half-day, three-day-a-week preschool program next year. Although he loves his teachers, he declared he was going down the street to the five-day-a-week, full-day preschool.  His little sister wants to attend the Mother's Day Out program.

Celebrating after Max's closing program. Alexandra is trying to get away to play in the bird-bath fountain.

I must not be sad.

They're ready.  It doesn't matter if I am.  My job is to welcome them to the nest when they return and hope a helping hand will rescue them if they need it.

My friend Dee Dee Chumley is giving away a necklace this month. Deadline is June 17, 2013. Check it out and remember our robins. You'll understand why I love her giveaway so much.

And the winner of TMI Mom: Oversharing My Life is...

Tracy! Congratulations.

Random.org selected the winner since I could not possibly choose from the stories.

For those of you who would like to purchase a copy, you can go here or here.

Check me out with the author Heather Smith Davis and her editor Mari Farthing.

Listen to Your Mother Show: These are my people

We send our stories into a theater packed with 400 bodies. That's 800 ears.  We send our stories into a social media project that will spread our stories to more bodies, more ears.

We can't take them back.

The house lights go up, but there is a strange combination of stage lights still shining that leave much of the crowd in the dark--at least from my view point. Applause fades to giddy conversations as cast members reunite with their people.

I stand alone onstage, peering into the gloomy abyss.

Where are my people?

A silhouette waves, and I think it's one of my tribe.  The cast member in front of me waves back.

Where are my people?  They were coming... right?

Loneliness sweeps over me as the waves of emotions the show tossed about go out to sea and come back for me--pulling me into a place that churns like a sea monster.

Then I take a deep breath.  I'm being silly. A saying drifts across my psyche: "If your ship doesn't come in, go out to meet it."

Right. Even if my people aren't here, I have a whole new sisterhood in the inaugural cast of Oklahoma City's Listen to Your Mother show. And these amazing women and man deserve to be congratulated.

I step off the stage and into this new world where everyone knows my story.

My eyes adjust to the light.  I see them.  I hear others call my name. 

I am not alone.  I never was. 

That's the thing with sisterhoods.

Some you grow up with.

childhood friends Tina and Ange--and our mommas--at the show

Some you help create.

my Inklings at Christmas--didn't get a pic after show!

Some you find through other people.

Tina, moi, Shannon, Kellie, Ange

Ashley and Jennifer at Kentucky Derby party. (They didn't wear the hats to the show.)

And some you share your soul onstage with.

2013 cast of Oklahoma City's Listen to Your Mother show (photo by Macy Fitzgerald)

Just when I feel lost at sea, my family--the ones I'm related to and the ones I've adopted--buoy me.

my hubby and kids at after-party

my mother-in-law, mom, and dad at after-party

They always do.

Even if I can't see them doing it.

Our cast was warned about the "me too" moments when strangers approach post-show and connect to your story.  I really didn't experience that.  However, I did catch people watching me, and when I looked their ways, they avoided me.  Now I know why. Since that day, I've heard from two people who told me my story helped women who were still so raw that they couldn't tell me personally.

I didn't share my secrets in vain. My story is a letter in a bottle tossed into the sea meant to be found by someone I may never meet.

That's why I did Listen to Your Mother.

Because, sometimes, it's not about me having a buoy. It's about me being the buoy.

Mommy Monday: Camping In

First of all, let me clarify that I have no delusions of SuperMomness. Quite the opposite. While other children enjoyed fun day trips and getaways for Spring Break, our little people were stuck at home with me.

Poor little things.

So, since Max had been wanting to camp out for over a year--see, we procrastinate around here--I planned a camp in.

No leaky tents. No bugs. No dirt. No bugs. No bugs.

My kind of camping trip.

I found some great ideas on the blog Rainbows Within Reach.

While the kids slept, Garrett and I set up the campground. We posted these signs and set up a campfire from Oriental Trading.  We pitched a Cars and Fairy tent in the formal living room. The hallway became the hiking path. We made the den into a pond.

  

 We raided the toy room and put their stuffed animals all over the house.  (I swear those things multiply when we're not looking.)

They caught a lot of frogs with that net. Max caught Alexandra a time or two as well.

The area by the piano became the bear cave. Shhh! They're hibernating!

 

I set out National Geographic magazines and books on animals in a weak attempt to make it seem more like nature. We used the iPhone app White Noise to have water, cricket, and frog sounds.

Grandma Celeste--my ninety-two-year old grandmother--joined us in fishing for snacks.

Dip pretzel "fishing pole" in Nutella or peanut butter and then "catch" the goldfish!

Then they built a campfire...with their own hands!

We read Going on a Bear Hunt before the kids went out into the wilderness and reported back what they saw by acting like the animals.

Max and I made Playdoh insects.  Alexandra mostly rolled it into balls and tried to show us that Playdoh balls don't bounce very well.

We talked about the difference between what happens at day and night.

When dad got home, they grilled hotdogs. Then, the kids put on their backpacks. We gathered up their science journals that we'd made and went on a hike.  The kids pointed out all the animals they saw on our journey, and Garrett and I drew and wrote them into their journals.  

We rested at the pond and looked through our list of animals. Then we played charades.  Max told Garrett to be a bird.  We had great fun watching Garrett fly around and caw like a crow while I pretended not to know what he was.

All that hiking and playing works up an appetite, so we made smores.

They were soooo messy but sooooo yummy!

Alexandra doesn't quite know what to think of her family.

The kids took a swim in Lake Bathtub before we hung out in Max's room for a while and looked up at the (glow-in-the-dark) stars (on his ceiling).

Now, that's one happy camper.