I NEVER SENT MY CHRISTMAS CARDS, PERFECTIONISM, 2014... AND CHANGE

(note: started this post 2 weeks ago)

I never sent my Christmas cards. I tried, but then they turned out grainy. And I just couldn't bring myself to send grainy. They are sitting right beside me, in a box, on my desk as I type. I thought, sending Valentines could be fun?! February 14th came and went, and I completely spaced it... kind of. I thought about it, and realized that I just, didn't have it in me. First time I haven't sent a holiday greeting in the almost ten years I've been married. Ten.

Also, looking back at my last post here on this ghost town of a blog/website, was the 8th day of Christmas, of the infamous 12 days of Christmas Give aways that pretty much turned into the 10 days of Christmas Give-aways. Yes, 10 is the new 12. Never say never, but I might never do a give-away ever again. I'll tell you my heart was so in the right place in orchestrating the most overwhelming give-away during the most overwhelming, I mean wonderful time of year, but it kind of was a disaster.  Sorry about that. Some people are really good at give aways, and math, and sports and letting go of unimportant stuff. I am good at none of those things. 

There is generally a part of me that really gets worked up on the inside over dropping the ball on items such as Christmas cards and give-aways. One day the worry police in my brain were on my case about both things, plus a few others that maybe were more important...  and I really got to feeling crappy about it all, and that's when suddenly I decided, it was not worth feeling crappy about. I decided! For once I could kind of grasp the silliness over the obsession with doing Christmas Cards, when I was reminded that everyone has seen and heard about my family, pretty much everyday for the last ten years. Thanks social networking. But wait, they don't have the paper version that comes in the mail and goes in the trash in three weeks, or in my case on the spot, because it arrives mid to end january when everyone has already ripped the dear things off the back of the door?! That sounds so bah humbug and cynical. That isn't my style. But sometimes you assert reality to get you through.

Really what I was hung up on was the idea of Christmas cards, or Valentines cards, and give aways. But in reality the act of sending Christmas Cards is one of the most time consuming expensive tasks of the season that kinda sends me over the edge every year. Like I end up having to go to the post office twenty times for more stamps because half of my family is Canadian and I never account for the extra postage... never, every time. Of course I want to design my own and have them printed on very fancy heavy recycled card stock paper for like one million dollars for 50. But then to save a little bit of cash I opt to go find my own envelopes (instead of having them made) for that custom card that is a really weird size, because I needed to be "artsy" and or "stupid", in which I will run to Staples, Office Max, Target, Wal-mart, Michaels and that other expensive stationary store in the mall to realize, yeah so they don't make envelopes this size. So I settle for envelopes that are bigger, and as I put each card into the envelope a little part of me dies, that it doesn't fit like a glove, that it's jiggling and floating around in there. I think of it shifting from side to side inside the monster envelope as it's traveling in the mail. Like fingernails on a chalkboard. Yeah, really, it's hard for me. As I write this, I'm embarrassed to actually say it out loud, or write it out loud. Because I don't think twice when other people send me pre-made cards, or smaller cards in bigger envelopes. I think "Yay! So nice of them to send me a Christmas Card!" Honestly I don't hold anyone to my ridiculously high personal Christmas Card standards.  I wonder why I can't go to Costco like all the other normal sane people of the world and just buy like 100 cards + envelopes for $15. 

I will tell you why, because deep down I am chained to the pursuit of perfection. Like, Pinterest Perfect, ya know?  And remember that whole, "done is better than perfect" thing? Yeah, I still just can't seem to get into it. Still aiming for "perfectly done", which really means "never done". So I thought about all of this and realized that, indeed I was more emotionally invested in the thought of Christmas Cards, then in the actual sending of Christmas Cards.  I should say, and say with em-phasis, that I love Christmas cards, receiving them is magical, and sending them is a kind gesture. But I realized that a big part of it for me, was for me, and that's kind of selfish and not what Christmas cards are supposed to be about. As of 2013, it will go down in History as that one year that I didn't send out Christmas cards. Maybe next year after I reform and simplify my Christmas card mentality, or just my mentality, I will get it done. Which brings me to 2014.

So first, Happy New Year! You may be thinking "hey brooke you know it's like March". And right you are. Here's the thing, you know that feeling you get at the start of a New Year? Like you are starting fresh, that you have a new vision, a sense of clarity, a burst of real motivation, the world is yours for the taking feeling?! As if that one singular day that transitions us from one year to the next, magically makes us able to change all the things that we were just completely incapable of being  able to change just days before. It's all mental, isn't it?

Well I didn't have any of those feelings. As a matter of fact, the dense Christmas fog hadn't lifted. The over-committments of 2013 woke up with me in 2014. And I was just... tired, confused, unmotivated and quite frankly absolutely unsure how to change any of it. I was very Eyore-ish. And that just isn't like me. But I think that my old ways have caught up with me and I can't pretend like it's working anymore. 

So I didn't write that "ready to conquer the new year" post that so many of us feel compelled to write. Because I was so very un-compelled. And much like the Christmas Cards and give aways,  I was worried that I wasn't compelled, or motivated. But then I also had the moment of being okay with not being okay with everything. I don't know if I gave up those worries because I just had no brain space for it, or I just became indifferent. I have to tell you I have a fear of indifference. But once you become indifferent, well it doesn't make a difference. Yay for the most redundant paragraph of all time! 

This is where I was, most of January. I tried to break free of my exhaustion and indifference and decide that even though I didn't know how to change, that I needed to start wanting it. And change is hard until, staying the same is harder. Bam, so I prayed to know what I needed to do to start the change process. So I made several lists. Listing things that I needed to do, commitments that needed to still be fulfilled, unfinished projects, emails and texts that needed responding, people that needed thanking, and lastly, things I desperately wanted to do... like paint, read self help books, take guitar lessons and practice the piano, finally plant a garden in my old greenhouse and take London to the beach. Then I just let it all sit there on the paper for a while, extraordinarily daunted. So I took out the scissors and cut about three more inches off my own hair for starters. Long true story. That's when anxiety hit, for nearly all of February.

(Part 2: Here is where I am picking up tonight, Thursday, March 13, 2014)

It is hard for me to remember where I was going with this blog post 2 weeks ago. My headspace has actually changed quite a bit since then. So I am going to try to pick it up from here. The list wasn't magically crossed off. That's when I realized that in addition to the things I needed to do, there actually was a list of things I needed to not do, or stop doing. I wrote those down. I also looked at those for a while and wondered how I would stop doing them, this was going to be hard. I realized that many of those things I needed to stop doing were standing in the way of the things that I needed to start doing. And thus here we run into the struggle of change. I decided there were five things I really really really wanted to do, become or change, and essentially if I could change them, then the mass of to-do's on my to-do list would likely take care of themselves or just be done.


1. Be on time: My due date was May 20th... I arrived to Earth two weeks later, June 2, 1983, my poor mother. Truth be told I haven't been able to catch up since. Being on time, or should I say running late, is a chronic problem in my life that effects many opportunities and relationships, and ultimately my self-worth. So much of my internal disappointment with myself stems from never being able to keep up and letting people down. I'm hard on myself about this. Others are beyond frustrated with me about my tardiness, and yet I am still late. Some people might cut me some slack saying "having kids slows you down", and while it's incredibly true, I have to own the fact that I was slow, and falling behind long before London. It is a real problem, it's a wonder that I have accomplished what I have. Despite my sincere efforts to get out the door on time, I have failed. Essentially, this is an issue rooted in my character, this is where my focus is, which leads me to number 2.

2. Say No: I have made the connection, that number one is a close relative of number 2. Generally my inability to be everywhere I said I would be on time, is because I struggle to say no. I overcommit. Overcommitting has been a life long habit. I don't know where it came from, trying to be everything to everyone has been how I connected to my own approval. Do things right a couple times, make people happy, and before you know it you're addicted, addicted to yes. There is a quote floating around saying something like "say yes and you'll figure it out later". Because People that say yes are go getters! movers and shakers! ambitious! working! rich! Famous! Followed! Commented! Popular! Liked! Loved! This is the mentality of the business I am in. This is the mentality of the society we are in. We all work so hard to get a break, that we just say yes, in fear of the lost opportunity, in fear of lost approval, of lost "love".  Truth be told, Yes can ruin your life.  I am discovering with each passing day that while yes is easier to say it is so much harder to do, and while no is so hard to say, it's much easier to do. This isn't about taking the easy way, but being real, being honest, with others and ourselves. Will we really be able to follow through? How will saying yes to everything cause conflict with other commitments? If we say no, what if we disappoint? Will we still be worthy, valuable, important, love-able... to others, to ourselves? Seems extreme, but I think this is the stuff we sometimes don't want to own as real, the truth, the root. I know I don't, but I am ready to change, so I am trying.

3. Be decisive: Wouldn't you know that number 3 is a cousin to 1 and 2. Indecision is paralyzing. Nothing stalls one quite like the inability to make a choice. Everything from detergent or toothpaste, to a set list, or what to say on the caption of an instagram, to how to respond to a text, what task I will complete during nap time, what I am going to wear to church, should I stay or should I go, should I be quiet, should I speak up, was that right, was I wrong? Too many options, so much second guessing, not enough trust in my instincts, in the spirit. Scared I will make the wrong choice. Often by the time I do choose I am out of time and forced to just settle on something. Settling, sucks. Settling generally causes regret, which causes less confidence in our ability to choose, and around and round we go.  Sometimes it's a choice of yes or no, will you do this? No could rock the boat, no would ruin my reputation of being dependable, being the hero, being a super human, just say yes. I have decided (look at me!) that a great deal of indecision comes from a fear of what others will think. Again, all of these changes are rooted in character. These are the hardest changes.

4. Listen : You may have noticed that I have a lot to say. Sorry, working on it. All this time I've thought that I was this great communicator, turns out I am a crap listener. Just because I know how to express myself, my feelings and emotions, doesn't make me a good communicator, it makes me kind of  self centered. Talking isn't communicating, sure it's part of it, but it is the lesser part. If we truly hope to connect with someone, it will be because we listened to them, heard them, empathized with them and sought to understand them, with out making it about ourselves, with out thinking about what we are going to say next, with out having to tell them how they should be different. Yes it is important to respond, and yet responding with validation is a delicate balance, without turning it into something about us. I fail at this hard. My mom is one of the best listeners I know, she listens, asks questions, repeats the thing you said to be clear that she understood correctly. When she meets someone she immediately asks them questions about themselves, and then she listens, with her ears, with her eyes, with her heart. People love my mom, because she listens. I want to listen. I want to shut my big yapper and open my ears and my heart, and take it in, and just be there, and maybe, if I am asked, respond with something from my story that helps the other feel not alone. Listening can change our lives, marriages, friendships, businesses and spirituality. Listening doesn't come easily to me, I want to listen.

5. Mindfulness: In other words, put the damn phone down. I don't say the D word, but sometimes it's necessary. The impulsive phone checking, in the middle of a sentence with our spouse or a friend, while we are with our babies. Being here now, such a test of our day. We see people in the cars swerving down the freeway, staring at their phone. Day after day, it seems we're all putting our lives, our relationships and our families on the line, in danger all for what's in the phone, and the psuedo-connection we find on the internet. Does it scare you like it does me? I'm dependent like the rest of them. It's fun, and it's an escape, and at times totally helpful and necessary. But, I worry about it's influence on my life, my family, my daughter. She is 21 months, she knows how to get to youtube and flip through videos of elmo. Is this a life saver in Target? Yes, but does it frighten me that she isn't even two and all day she just wants to hold my phone and press buttons and stare at the screen? Yes, yes it does. We're always looking down, in a trance, in restaurants, in the check out line, in bedrooms and dinner tables. I want to be in the moment. Instead of always checking, comparing, always pinning, wishing our living room looked minimalist but colorful, understated yet eclectic, that if we did these 5 moves our butts could look like victoria secret models and that if we just had that pair of leopard booties our wardrobe and life would be complete. Consumed by consumerism. I spend more I want more, and it never ends. I want to look up. I want to spend less, I want to get more out of my real life with my real family. I want to see it, feel it and realize as often as possible, how grateful I am. Documenting is wonderful, connecting is awesome, but where do I draw the line. Working on it. Mindfullness.

Each of these are their own posts. And with all that said, I realize many of these changes, and many of the struggles mentioned in this post are rooted in perfectionism. An addiction and real struggle unto itself. I am reading this beautiful wonderful book called "the gifts of imperfection". It is so insightful, uplifting and helpful and I would highly recommend it. If you are reading this and find yourself in similar struggles, you are not alone. Maybe pick up the book, say a prayer, find some self compassion, seek gratitude. We can change. 

SO MUCH...

So much has happened. I've missed the last three weeks of "just another music monday". I just couldn't pull it off amongst the chaos. I know it's not the end of the world, it's not like the New York times front page headline  exclaims "brookie babble fails to post just another music monday three weeks in a row, a real disappointment". I know it's just a really small thing I'm doing in my living room, but I kinda need to be doing it for reasons i'm not really sure of. I will get back on track...  next monday... or tuesday, okay, probably wednesday.

A dear family member has just experienced an unthinkable tragedy, I have been grieving hard with a heavy heavy heart for, and alongside her for the last few days. I am reminded that we just absolutely can not take this life and our relationships for granted. We are all so vulnerable. We just have to love people dang it,  we have to love our families, our lives, our homes, ourselves, our God. just love, as much as we can, for as long as we get.

On a significantly incredibly less important note, I cleaned out a closet, and in that closet was ten years worth of shoes.  As you can see from the picture below, I have a hard time partin' with my footwear, but it was time. Honestly it was the last thing that didn't even make it on my to-do list, but every time I opened that darn closet, shoes would literally come a flyin' at my head, so after being attacked by a falling heel one day I just started chucking them into a pile. Luckily I had my trusty little side kick, the Loo, to help me get control of the madness. Mostly she just sat there and smiled and tried to chew on the heels of some gnarly old shoes, but man is she cute. I didn't part with as many pairs as I should have but, it's a start, and it feels good. 

Before this happened, the girls with glasses took over my house and kaboom... it kinda looks like it exploded. Every wall was painted a different color, every piece of furniture has been relocated to random places and I think it might take the rest of 2013 to put it back together again. I don't remember feeling this bonkerz in a long time. However, we had a legit crew, and these are going to be our finest looking videos, we're excited. Details to come, stay tuned...

I teamed up with my gal pal, Ashley, the one and only little miss momma and did a little tu-tu-torial for the  boho crown braid, aka, my go to hairstyle for day two hair, or three or four... like cheese, or leather, it basically  gets better with time, live in it, sleep in it, drive with the windows down in it, and before you know it a bird has landed in it and found itself a nest, and that's when you know it's time to take it down and start all over again. See it, follow it, do it... step by step over on Little miss momma...

It's been a crazy time, but I love my family, and art, and music, and while life is stinkin hard, it is beautiful too, and I love it. Thanks to you all for watching my music mondays, for reading my jibberish and for caring. There is more, so much more, but it is time for bed. Goodnight.

JUST ANOTHER MUSIC MONDAY: BEST FRIEND (NEW TUNE!)

Due to technical difficulties, let's just call this Just another Music Tuesday... 

I was working on a lovey dovey cover (so many great suggestions btw, hard to choose) in honor of Valentine's day, and then got distracted with this little chord progression. I started picking the strings, I'm not the worlds best finger picker, but the magic of music took control of my fumbly 'ol fingertips and started to play them with ease, I like when this happens. The chords caused my eyes to close, my heart to ache. Then a hum in my vocalizer started humming... I followed the hum, and it led me down a path to these words:

it's not too late

I could be your best friend

hold my breath and swim into the deep end

of this mess of love that we've been drownin' in

ooohh

I knew it was the last chorus, so I worked backwards. Quickly the words spilt on the paper, I let them fall freely as they strung themselves together into a story. I let them sing the redemption song that they wanted to be. Eighty percent of it was written in fifteen minutes, the other twenty percent took about six hours, when I realized that this song was not the light hearted little ditty I had hoped to write. It wore me out. So, I just let it be what it is, a real life love song. There's a beginning, a conflict, a resolve and a hope that is never ending. That is the nature of a relationship that endures. I don't know if I would put the "done" stamp on it, I think it needs some time to marinate, might need to rearrange a few things, the bridge might need more, maybe it doesn't, I don't know. The first performance is always an experiment, a bit timid... and it makes me nervous, so here it is...

PS-Talking about songs is always weird. I just write them, sing them, and hope they are heard the way the person needs to hear it... or feel it, really.

PSS-  AND I am over on Oh Joy! today as part of her "make someone happy" series... I helped her write little love song for her man Bob, kinda cute and fun! Watch it here

Oh! One last thing... what did you think of the Grammy's? I thought it was pretty classy, and I was rather impressed by many of the performances. Justin Timberlake... what can I say, I'm glad he's back. Rhianna was the surprise of the night for me, no over the top production needed with large doses of flesh, she stood there in a beautiful gown and simply delivered a pure, heart felt vocal. And then there's Bruno Mars, pow! So much energy! He is just slaying it out there and couldn't have performed better, but wait, then Sting joined him on stage with his bass, and he did his Sting thing, which is always dripping with awesome. I loved Mumford & Sons, and am glad to see the Lumineers taking over the world. I will also say how pleased I was that Gotye and Kimbra won song of the year, that song was a special one, and the fact that radio embraced it gives me hope and happiness. Kelly Clarkson was just mind blowing. Levon tribute was spectacular and reminded me of Michael Johns on tour, he literally watched the Last waltz maybe forty something times. Props to the Idol ladies, Kelly and Carrie for representing. Isn't it interesting that the most enduring and successful artists to come out of Idol are both female, and yet a girl hasn't won in six years? (Multiple factors here... and, No offense guys, y'all are great, just an observation :-) There are others I am forgetting, but overall, it was a good night. Made me want to sing and play and write much better than I do.

UNDER THE ORANGE TREES...

Was going through photos on my computer and came across these two photos... What a wonderful difference seven months can make...

April

November

Thanks to the lovely Jess for taking these photos... MENDIPIXEL 

CHRISTMAS CARD...

It's the only time of year that I rush to the mailbox, in great anticipation of glorious holiday greetings, perhaps one of my favorite parts of the season...

The Christmas Card.

I know we are all seeing a lot more of each other these days with a never ending feed of instagram and facebook updates of our iphone self portraits, babies, cats, breakfasts and family vacations... but there is still something so old fashioned, personal and so very wonderful about getting envelopes in different sizes and colors,  with hand written addresses from different places, from people near and far... ripping open that envelope and holding the card in your hand, and taping it to the back of your front door, till it becomes a massive explosion of Costco holiday photo cards. There is of course the rare few actual cards, that open and shut, that usually don't hang on for long to the back of said door. And of course I especially enjoy the snowflake boarder stationary, with the full page typed, over the top yearly report Christmas letters touting one by one all the wondrous achievements, promotions, trips and eagle scout awards! Bless 'em.

But then there is sending out those cards... it is a labor of love a Christmas card is, anxiety inducing even. Getting a decent family photo where everyone is looking at the camera, with normal human smiles and eyes open... eyes of glee and holiday cheer, and not eyes full of "we're gonna rip eachothers heads off" rage... there is the bribery of little children and husbands rolling their eyes when the photographer says "ok, just one more!". And then there is addresses, it always seems like half the people in the address book move every year, thankfully we can just get on facebook and send a mass message "hey could you text me your address so I can mail you a card?". And then there's postage?! And just one more trip to the post office for another blasted book of stamps! Before you know it you've dropped a couple Benjamins' on the dang Christmas card project.

But... It's worth it! I swear it's worth it, every year!

Then there is that moment, where you sit down with your address book, and as you go through the alphabet you might come across that name, or two... 

It's been a while, you've lost touch, should you send them a card? Are they going to send you a card? Maybe they will maybe they wont. Perhaps there was a falling out, over something silly... or something serious. But you look at that name, and you struggle, and you wonder, maybe this is your chance, an opportunity... an olive branch in the form of a Christmas card. It may not heal the world, undo what was done, but it may bring a smile, start the mend of a little broken heart.

I wrote a song about this... and I have to say, it felt inspired. All the above sarcasm and snark aside, this song is pure, from the heart, in my soul. And that's what the Christmas Card was always supposed to be about. 

Here's a little video of me playing it in my living room, thanks to Jack and Brad for making it :-)

ONE MONTH AGO...

It is June 24th... this means that I gave birth to my daughter,  London June Ray, exactly one month ago today. How can this be? Everywhere we go, we get stopped by strangers, they look at her with sentimental eyes and they all seem to say the same thing... "they grow so fast" or "don't blink" and "enjoy every second", and with every little passing moment I am acutely aware of this acceleration of of time... and it actually causes me a pain in my chest, a physical anxiety, a panic almost and I beg my beloved Londy Loo to please... Grow slow.

We stare at each other most of the day. And when she is asleep I stare at pictures of her, I've got nearly a thousand of them, documenting every last facial expression, cute outfit and tender moment. Yes, she even has her own instagram account dedicated to "a little bit of London everyday". I'm infatuated, deeply, and it's a bit ridiculous how much I love to just look at her, study her features, kiss her cheeks over and over, and hold her as tight as I can with out completely squishing her delicate newborn frame. I cry a lot, like the day she turned a whopping week old, or when her yucky little remnant of her umbilical chord fell off to reveal the perfect belly button, or when I saw real tears stream down her tiny face a few days ago. While  hormones and exhaustion are  likely the culprit, they can't take all the blame... real love such as this is intense.

As Ron Burgandy so poignantly and dramatically exclaimed, "I feel like I'm in a glass case of emotion!!" I am happy, I am sad, I am worried,  there is constant ache, a vulnerability and a confusing melancholic joy that I can't even describe. I suppose this is why it has taken me so long to write about it, which I was certain that I would do nearly the second I came home from the hospital. I wanted to get it all down, while it was fresh and new and powerful. But... I just haven't been able to find those words to articulate this kind of love, I still can't, and I couldn't find the desire to sit in front of a computer when I could be sitting in front of my beauty of a baby, and nor has she allowed me much time to do so. She is not one of those babies that snoozes the day away in a swing or a swaddle, nope not my girl. She is bright eyed, always looking up at me, melting my heart and demanding my attention when distracted by the buzz of a text message, requiring me to rise before the sun and stay awake with her till almost noon, She was quite literally born ready to give this life a real go. Even the lactation consultant who came to my rescue in the depths of my woes of nursing (so hard, a blog post unto itself) held my squiggly wiggly and alert newborn up to take a good look at her, and said to me "wow, this is a wild person!". Eventually I might likely grow weary, but for now I am so happy to just be right here with her, right now, taking in every bit of her sweet wild spirit. I'm not getting much done, but who cares, I've spent the last decade of my life "getting things done" and being a hyper-multi-tasker, overly ambitious and constantly stressed about "doing it all". However, a funny thing has happened to me, while I still care deeply about my music, my "projects" and being a girl with glasses, right now I am quite consumed with the desire to do one thing really really well, and that is to be London's mom.

That morning I went to the hospital to be induced one week shy of my due date, I was abnormally calm, as a cucumber. Now I realize I was just completely oblivious of what was to come, and thankfully so. Perhaps my subconscious was protecting me, blocking out all fear, because I expected no pain. Sounds silly I know, I was about to push a person through "down there", and with my one and only plan for an epidural in place ,  I anticipated to not feel a darn thing. However this was not my fate. From the I.V. to the anesthesia, to the epidural, to the catheter to the main event... I felt a lot. Unfortunately the right side of my body seemed to have complete disregard for the epidural, I could wiggle my right toes, do leg lifts, I pinched my thigh only to let out an "ouch"! My left side however was dead to the world, and if I had to push a baby out of my left big toe I would've been good to go, however we all know that the left toe is not the location of a babies entrance to the world. While my contractions were rather dull, the necessary region was still fully aware of every painful sensation. This was not good news, and that calm feeling was abruptly replaced with panic. I informed the nurse several times that "I think I need more".  I'll be the first to admit, I am scared person, I am fearful, particularly of pain. Through out the day the nurses and doctor would ask me "on a scale of 1-10, how is your pain?" It wasn't till the end of the experience that I'd gotten an educated sense of that pain scale. Basically I learned that my tolerance for physical pain was, low. Dave, calm and strong as he always is, held my hand while my body shook and sweat ruined the make-up that I had put on that morning in hopes that I would look decent in photos. Looking back at the pictures, that attempt was unsuccessful...

My mom and dad walked into the room after driving in from AZ,  along with my sister who had surprised me with her unexpected presence. Seeing them suddenly made me feel like a little kid lying in a big scary hospital bed and I cried... cause I was so happy to see them, cause I wanted my mom, because I was scared, because of the drugs,  because I was in pain, because in a few short hours I was going to finally meet my very own first child. My little sister who gave birth a year before me took my hair and tied it up in a knot on top of my head to keep it out of my face, she assured me I could do this.  Within a few short hours I had made significant progress, my wonderful nurse Joy went on her lunch break and assured me that by the time she returned, I would be having a baby. The anesthesiologist returned to give me a pep talk a one final boost of the epidural, and my right side began to feel dull in the nick of time. My doctor came in, assessed the situation and announced it was time to push. I had been listening to John Mayer's record "Born and Raised" through out the day to sooth my nerves and take my mind off the pain and anxiety of labor.  Those songs will always remind me of the day London was born...

I looked at the clock, it was just ten minutes past six pm. It was go time, I tried to calm my shaking body with the deep breathing techniques I had learned in my pre-natal yoga class. I wanted to be brave, I said a million little prayers under my breath "please heavenly father, please help me do this". I begged Dave to not "look", to stay up above with me, but he couldn't help himself and wanted to be a witness. He was amazing. I was relieved after my first push to feel pressure instead of pain... though the pressure was intense it was bearable to my worn out body. My tricky doctor would distract me in between pushes by asking me about how Dave and I met nearly nine years before at the Thanksgiving dance in Mesa. I would get to a certain part of the story and suddenly feel the strong urge to push. It was hard physical work. My dad waited just outside of the curtain to be saved from the visual of the birth, but I could hear him cheering me on from the other side. My mom and sister stood at my side wiping my forehead and taking photos that would document the most important experience of my almost twenty nine years of life. We never made it to the end of the story, and those final pushes I squeezed Dave's hand with all I had left, the doctor exclaimed "she has hair!" I was over the moon with just the thought of her little head of hair and I started to cry, I could hardly wait to see her, and with one motivated last push and she was out by 6:41pm, it was so quick and yet played out in slow motion, she didn't even cry, as they immediately placed her beautiful little body on my chest.

She was still covered in Goop, I didn't care, I felt like a momma lion with the instinct to nearly lick her new cub clean, but I held her close to my body and kissed her head over and over and told her "Im your mom! I'm your mom!" I cried, I laughed, I was so high. Never felt so euphoric in my life, all the pain, the pressure, the fear, didn't matter. Now I've gotten to do some pretty cool things in my life, had some pretty special moments, but none of them could compare to this one. Dave cut the chord, we huddled together, a little family. The love... the love.

They took her, they cleaned her and weighed her. Just as my ultrasound suspected, I had a big healthy baby, 8 lbs 12 ounces, 20 inches of perfection. My family all took their turns to hold her.  Watching them hold her I kept thinking "that is my baby". I couldn't wait to hold her again. As well I become intensely aware of how thirsty and hungry I was, little did I know I would not be allowed to eat nor drink during labor. Finally they brought me a fruit juice concoction that was the most delicious thing I had ever tasted and I chugged it faster then I should, only for it to come right back up. The room became quiet as my family went back to our home to sleep, the doctor left us for the night and it was us and our London. The responsibility for her life weighed heavily upon us. It was nearly impossible to sleep that night. Having never felt so exhausted I could hardly close my eyes. We watched her like a hawk, the tiny rise and fall of her chest. Picking her up at the slightest cry. Attempting several times to nurse her, it hurt. The epidural wore off and the pain of labor settled in. My body felt like a wasteland and yet I felt like I was floating on a cloud. 

The last four weeks have been nothing short of the most euphoric, challenging, exhausting, painful, happy, heavy, lonely, overwhelmingly joyful time of our existence. The spectrum of emotion is vast and extreme. It's amazing what a body can do in just over nine months, and though it might not ever be what it once was, is healing and changing almost daily and I am grateful for the miracle it produced. Nursing has been harder then I hoped, hurts like heck and yet is truly heavenly in those moments when it is working, it's getting better everyday. Dave Ray CPA, I've never loved and appreciated him more. He told me before she was born "I'm gonna be a good dad, I think it's going to be what I'm good at"... but he's way better then good, he's amazing. Turns out he's a full on baby whisperer. It's remarkable to see this sports loving, hockey playing, accountant turn into a swaddling, diaper changing, lullaby singing super dad.  The day he had to go back to work I fell apart. Parenting is a team sport...

There is so much more, but this is certainly long enough, and It's nearly midnight, I will with out question be awoken by the cry of a hungry lil' baby with a poopy diaper in less then two hours, and that nap I was going to take today never happened, so I'm going to stop here... for now:)

THE BELLY EVOLUTION....

14 weeks:

 18 weeks:

 20 weeks... I thought I was huge... 

 22 weeks...

 24 weeks... the only bare belly shot... and seriously that belly button popped around 3 weeks.

 26 weeks... I thought I was massive

 31 weeks... 

 34 weeks... thought I was in the clear... nope, here come the stretch marks... 

 37 weeks... no this is not photoshopped. It is real, and it is big, and it is dropping... more stretch marks

I am now 38 weeks, looking at these photos back to back for the first time and blown away by the evolution of this body.  Some days I feel like it can't possibly stretch any farther,  and yet with each passing week I am proved wrong, it grows and grows... and grows. This belly is large and in charge, I am stopped by strangers at almost every turn, persistent stares from restaurant booths, impulsive belly touching from people I've never met,  free advice offered at every encounter, inquiries such as "are you sure you are not having twins?", and the older ladies insisting that I am having a boy despite me informing them that I am having a girl which has been confirmed by very advanced modern technology on multiple occasions, and if I had a dollar for every time I heard someone say "you look like you are about to pop!" I would be pushing the millionaire mark. Even Dave spouts quite regularly "man! that belly is crazy" as if it's the first time he's seen it... he sees it every day. 

Indeed I am about to pop, and it is crazy, and while much of the attention at times feels awkward and unsolicited, I am very okay, and I'd have to agree with 'em, it is a site to behold, and while it happens to millions everyday, it is still a miracle and a wonder how a human being can grow within a belly, another human being. And in those moments when I am sitting and I instantly become claustrophobic and intensely aware of what I have deemed the pregnant "stack", where the boobs rest on the belly and the belly rests on the thighs and the legs become restless stumps with feet attached to the ends which I have not seen in months, and there isn't a single t-shirt left in my closet that will dare stretch to the borders of this watermelon sized belly, and I see this body in the mirror and I can't remember what it used to look like, it all is the most wildly miraculous reminder that there is a baby in there, a big healthy thriving baby, a pretty little eight pounder with round cheeks and a sweet plump pair of lips (according to the ultrasound) that I am about to meet in the flesh! AAAHHHH!!! 

The doctor doesn't think we're gonna make it to that May 31st... and while I will spare you the details,  apparently surprising and swift significant progress is being made. I've been walking, and contracting, and peeing, and making lists and finishing projects and vacuuming, wondering over and over "is this it?" and "what was that?!" and freaking out a lot because I have never done this before, and I don't know what to expect (even though yes, I have read "what to expect when you're expecting") and I guess I'm very scared of pushing this wonderous eight pounder through, and simultaneously thinking I'm so not ready for this and yet so very ready for this and want to see her now, but just need to fold some towels first! And I just keep thinking... I am having a baby! 

HOLY MOSES!

I AM HAVING A BABY...

HALLELUJA, PRAISE THE LORD.

ps. lots of texts and tweets... is she here yet? Nope, i will keep you posted. 

HEAVY BUT WE FLOAT...

It's 4:10 in the am and I have given up... on sleep, on dreams, on control. Sounds irrational, thoughts usually are around this time. 

Over an hour ago I was awoken (or is it awaken? honestly, grammar is at the bottom of the totem poll right about now) by the routine reminder that my bladder is intensely full. I try to muster up the gumption and motivation to roll from my right side, to my back, and then all the way over to my left side, then attempt to tumble my body over the edge of the bed, in hopes that my feet hit the floor... will I land it? I'm like an eight month pregnant gymnast with the agility of a turtle planning her dismount... no, I'm not looking for the gold, just the toliet. It's perplexing to me how difficult a task this has become for my body... it's as if I've come face to face with the summit of Mount Everest... 

I feel heavy... physically... mentally.

And in those less then twenty routine steps to the bathroom, I've thought as many as a hundred fragmented thoughts that I don't know what to do with...

"you should probably just give up music"

"you don't have a car seat yet... but you already signed that paper at the hospital that you would have the seat, properly installed in your car... you gotta get on that, like, NOW!!!!"

"how many rolls of toliet paper do we have left?"

"If you don't take that meeting in New York next week you can likely kiss that opportunity good-bye... but what if you give birth on the airplane? do they do epidurals on airplanes?"

"what's happening to the thighs?"

"BABY CPR... that is important... YouTube it"

"Hey, all the underwear is in the dryer down in the garage, they've been there since... last week-ish... seriously, what are you gonna do when you have kids"

"oh c'mon, you know you can't give up music"

"the curtains in the nursery would be so cute with that pom-pom garland sewn on the edges that I saw on pinterest"

"Girls with Glasses..."

"you're probably never gonna sleep again"

"if you actually practiced the guitar, you'd probably be decent at it"

"maybe dave would appreciate something other then frosted mini wheats for dinner"

"you haven't read the scriptures in a long time"

"and... why do you keep buying lettuce, you know you're never gonna make the salad"

"remember how you paid $80 for pre-natal yoga classes... haven't been in over a month"

"you probably can't put the baby in the van with the band and drive around the country... but you can't leave her... you'll figure it out"

"Is it my turn to 'draw something'?"

"you are almost a year away from 30"

"I could be a way better friend... never called Monika"

"man i miss friday night lights"

"you're having a baby"

"maybe you should bolt the windows shut so she can't fall out of them"

"American Idol was crazy"

"I know I can do this, but can I do this?"

"luckily Dave is so emotionally stable"

"this bathroom has been cleaned like twice since you moved in"

"things will change"

"it's going to be hard... you are going to LOVE her"

Seriously, all of that. I turn my head to see that ugly clock light glowing in the dark... it's 3:02 am, looks like the un-purchased, uninstalled car seat will have to wait until the morning... but it is morning... Let's give it a couple more hours, or at least until Target opens... 8 am.

After unloading what felt like less then a mere teaspoon of tinkle (sounds silly to say tinkle, but I don't love the word 'urine' either), I stumble back over to the bed, and gear up to get back in... position the body pillow on the left, the small pillow on the right, the tempurpedic pillow under the king pillow and then try to nestle somewhere in the middle of it all, one of the pillows falls overboard, do I have it in me to pick it up? My head says try, but my hips say no. After nearly twenty minutes of readjusting and tossing too and fro, I realize that likely there is no comfortable way to do this. I look over at Dave, he is sleeping hardcore... I stare in envy. It is one of his gifts... it is not mine. I am happy for him... sleep while you can my dear, sleep while you can.

I lay there for a while, wrestling more consciously with those thoughts... and, I don't know. I just don't know. And I try tell myself that it is okay that I don't know. I try to be okay with being okay with not knowing. And then I realize I'm not, but that it's nearly 4 am, and perhaps this is not the best time to try to logically have it all worked out, nor will there likely be a good time. I'm not the first soon to be parent worried about how I'm going to do it, and I won't be the last... So I get out of bed, and here I sit, typing a blog that potentially I will read back when I'm in a more coherent state of being, and wonder why I thought it was a good idea to blast all these thoughts into the blogosphere. I'll want to delete it, but then I won't... 

I'm looking out the window, and the sky is becoming brighter. I already feel better. 

Jack wrote this song called "Heavy but we float"... and in this moment, in one of my heavier moments, I am weighed down by nearly thirty extra pounds and a world of fears and unknowns...  I feel this lil' person moving around within this belly, and with her small swift kick there is this thought "what you really don't know is just how much you are going to love her"... 

And I'm so thankful this is happening.... and I'm floatin'... like a feather.

BIG NEWS ABOUT A LITTLE PROJECT...

Welp, For approximately the last four months I've been on the go, on the road, playing my guitar, singing  songs, creating goofy girls with glasses videos, fixin' a house, recording records and oh yeah... keeping a big secret  about another massive "little project" I've been hard at work on... 

But it looks as though my belly is blowing my cover... 

Yep, I'm havin' a BABY y'all! WOW, how weird does it feel to say that?! Super Weird and yet super awesome! I've always said I wanted to be an "M&M" a musician and a momma, and it looks like that is all coming to fruition in my twenty eighth... almost twenty ninth year of life (by the time she arrives), and I have to say while it came as a happy surprise, and at the same time, later then I ever expected, I'm feeling great  about having a baby at this point in my life! 

This little gal is already keepin' up with the crazy, in my Ultrasound we could see that we have a serious Rock n' Roll baby on our hands... by the looks of it, she's partyin' it up in there! My doctor said, "wow she doesn't sit still! " and Dave Ray quickly spouted "just like her mom!". HA! 

my rock and roll baby at 12 wks, she's grown a lot since then

Truth is, I already worry about her every day, I just want her to be happy and healthy... She is probably already tired of hearing me say "are you okay?!" which apparently she can hear and feel the sound and vibration of my loud voice at this stage. Poor thing gets to listen to me babble and sing all day and night! She is also the size of my open hand and though her closed eyelids see light.  She is also gettin' fatter and taller... cute huh? 

Honestly, we can hardly wait to meet her, see her, freak out over her and just hang out with her and take her to Target and band practice, cause she is gonna be such a cool baby. Until May 31st I will just have to patiently prepare for her arrival. That is, if she arrives on time... and if she is anything like her mom, she'll be late. Actually I was supposed to be born on May 21st, and wouldn't ya know I decided to show up two weeks later on June 2nd. For all I know she could be born on my birthday just two days after... and I'd be a June baby giving birth to a June baby! Perfect Present...

Now, my rock n' roll babe and I must get back to recording a sweet new J+W EP due in January...

PS- This was a really hard secret to keep.

PSS- Thanks to my fellow girl with glasses and dear friend Summer Bellessa for making me this fun lil' video!! 

THE LIL' LIST...

I'm all about the Lil' list these days. I used to create these mammoth daily lists for myself,  they went on and on forever and ever... basically the short hand version would probably of been something like:

TO DO:

PRETTY MUCH EVERYTHING THAT'S EVER NEEDED TO BE DONE BY THE END OF TODAY

This approach is a big frowny face No-win. I always felt overwhelmed by the list and disappointed in my non-ability to be super woman and accomplish all things in a twenty four hour period. Not to mention the inevitable burn out. I over promised to myself, and under delivered, and if there is anything that I should of learned during my two years of employment trying to sell shoes to highly maintained ladies of entitlement and granting returns of fifteen year old used bras in customer service at Nordstroms, it was "Under promise and over deliver". 

As I get a little bit older, I get a little more realistic... not a lot more, but a little. I am realizing that there is just not enough time to fulfill all my wild ambitions and expectations, I so sincerely want to do it all, and I want to do it really well... and it bums me out that I can't. I want to say, YES YES YES! It is such an easy word to say, and yet such a hard word to do. This becomes a habit in the business of life and dream achieving where your success depends on taking advantage of every good opportunity, and they all seem good don't they? My manager Brad has coined the phrase for me "always trying to fit ten gallons into a five gallon bucket". It made me chuckle and yet I continued living a life of overdoing,   and over promising and well... 

The bucket broke.

Lesson slowly learned... success is obtained by setting small achievable goals. Eating the elephant one bite at a time as they say. That is where the Lil' list comes in.  The rule: Keeping the number of items on the list to be done less then ten, and ideally no more then a handful of things. This forces me to get real with myself..."What is truly important today?"... starting with priorities, or sometimes urgencies, commitments to others and then perhaps if there is time, a few other small tasks that have a tendency to get over-looked... notice how I have to list "shower".

Truthfully, the Lil' list is changing my life. My productivity level is increasing, my sense of accomplishment rewards me with motivation and inner peace, I'm finishing more of the things I am starting, following through on the commitments I've made to others and myself... and not all at once, but one thing at a time, one day at a time. And let me say, there is nothing quite like crossing off those to-do's on your list, can I get an AMEN from the list makers?! 

Lastly, my level of awareness of how I CHOOSE to use my time is becoming more acute. I'm learning perhaps, that you can't say yes to everything and everyone all the time... I might even be coming to grips with the fact that sometimes, you just have to say NO... 

Now, saying the "NO" word is a whole other blog post unto itself... I'll put it on my list... the lil' one.

ARE YOU HAPPY...

Pinterest Find, although I tried to trace it back to it's origin and can't find it, would love to frame this and hang it up in a place I can always see it.

 Anywho it is brilliant and yet simple.... love it. Are you happy??

BRAD THE DAD...

Not only did my momma have a birthday, so did my rad dad Brad just two days later! Having flown home for my mom's special day, my parents decided that they would drive me back to California and spend the weekend with us, and also catch my JACK AND WHITE show at the Hotel Cafe which also happened to be the same day as my dads big fat birthday! As well, my sweet sister Katie aka "the Boo" joined us with her little man Heath who just smothers my soul with his cuteness. I kissed his delicious fat cheeks at least 246 times, at least. By the way he is already 17.5 pounds at 4 and a half months, he is healthy and perfect and I love him a lot multiplied by a million. You take a look at him and you realize that that's what life is about right there. And my little sister, she is such a super duper mom, I look up to her.

Our drive back to the west coast was a slow one, with many U-turns and stops for gas, feedings, burpings, diaper changes. Took us a few extra hours then usual and though it was a bit grueling I found it fun. We listened to my dads iPod on shuffle mode... he's got a billion of these random novelty songs about monkeys and kangaroos and stuff, and though he's heard 'em all thousands of times, he still get's a kick out of them and turns it up and says "you gotta hear this". We listened to the new EP in the truck, sounded pretty darn good in the big ol' Ford truck. "Hold Up my Heart" came on, it's his favorite song, (he always calls me to tell me he listens to "Hold up My heart" almost daily). Then we got to talking about deep complex spiritual thoughts, I always have more questions then there are answers. My dad has faith, solid faith. I'm grateful. My mom kept reminding him to keep his eyes on the road while he talks passionately and looking at us in the backseat through the rearview, and then we all took turns driving. My neck and shoulders felt like a pile of rocks by the end, but I enjoyed the roadtrip with the fam. 

Poor dad was put to work as soon as we got to my house, we are still working on loads of projects and my dad is this amazing carpenter so he has been of great help to us in making this old house look new. Since it was his birthday weekend and all we wanted to give him the exciting opportunity to cut a new door in the garage, happy birthday dad! Seriously, We promise that next time he comes he can just chill by the pool and go play golf with Dave.

Sunday however, was a day of rest for dad, we went to church and came home for a breakfast of Eggs Benedict, a White House family tradition. My parents have perfected the recipe, may be my favorite thing to eat of all time... more then pizza even. Though pizza is pretty unbelievable. We opened some gifts and he took a good Sunday snooze on the couch. Mom made him a cherry chip cake, have you ever had one of those? Really yummy. I made green chili enchilada's for dad's birthday, I am not much in the kitchen, as of now I can make less then five things, one of those five things is enchiladas, luckily they are one of my dads favorites. I have to say that they turned out quite tasty, we ate the left overs over the next two days...mmm. 

That evening was the Jack and White show at the Hotel Cafe. When it comes to my music, my dad is my number one fan (mom too). Most parents aren't in favor of their kids packin' up and moving out to LA to become a rockstar (not that thats exactly how it went) but my parents had a feeling early on, they knew before I did, but they never pushed, they've prayerfully supported and stayed close to me through it all with loving enthusiasm, I'm very grateful. They are music lovers, I am a music lover because they are music lovers. Anywho, back to the show, we are a new lil' band me and jack and we are just starting to get out there and perform our songs, so I loved that my fam was there, honestly, even if no one shows up and my family is there, I feel on top of the world. All in all it was a fun show,We did a special Beatles style birthday tune "ya say it's your birthday" good times rock n' roll! 

The next morning they left at 4:30 in order to get back for work, I always feel like cryin' when they pull out of the driveway and back down the road to Arizona. 

Dad, I hope you had a great birthday, so glad we could share it with ya. You are one wonderful dad.