Every once in a while

I've talked about this before...Having a tween is so hard.

I distinctly remember one interaction I had with my mom when I was a tween.
 
     It was late evening, and I think I was supposed to be asleep, or at least in bed.  I don't remember what drew me out of my bedroom and into the living room, but something did.  As I was walking down the hall towards the living room I could hear my mom on the phone, and based on the conversation they were having, I knew that she was talking with her best friend who lived on the other side of the country.  I also don't remember what made me stop and listen to what was being said, but I did.  What I do remember was my mom saying:

         "I feel like I just never know which Emily I'm going to get, the happy one or the moody one."
 
For whatever tween, hormonal, emotional reason, hearing this sent me into a crazy spiral.  I remember being so mad...I mean, what could my mom be talking about...I was just me...just Emily... always Emily.

Fast forward 24 odd years and I totally get it.  I hate to admit it, but I totally get it.  I honestly don't remember being much of a typical tween, but the fact that I remember that interaction means that I certainly was.

Now I'm in the boat my mom was in.  Sometimes my Sweet Girl is so happy, easy to get along with, and thoughtful, other times...well, lets just say, not so much.  It really is a daily struggle, and sometimes the only thing that gets me through it is knowing that my friends with tween girls are going through the same thing.  I'm not alone.  She really is normal.  These are the things I keep repeating to myself.

But, like I said, there are the moments when she is one of the sweetest girls I have ever had the joy of knowing.  These moments, when there are random acts of kindness and pure love, remind me that maybe I'm not doing EVERYTHING wrong, maybe things are going alright.  Every once in a while I'm reminded that we really are doing something right.

Yesterday was one of those moments.

It was the kids last day of summer vacation.  I had basically told them that they could do whatever they wanted until we had to head into town for some last minute, get ready for school, errands.  They watched too much TV, they played with legos, they ate junk food...all the things summers are supposed to be made of.  Then Sweet Girl asked Little Man if he would like to ride his bike with her down to the pond.  Sure...and they are off.  The only inkling I had that anything special was about to go down was that she had her purse with her.  There is a little market by the pond that sells some basic groceries and I thought she might have her eye on some candy.  Well, 20 minutes later and I hear the kids coming back, and one of them has a treat: ice cream, but it's not Sweet Girl...she surprised her brother with an ice cream cone.

My heart swelled with love at this sight.

The act of giving and not receiving.
The random act of kindness.
The act of finding joy in someone else's happiness.

It was one of my favorite moments all summer long.

So as I sit here, enjoying the silence that the first day of school has brought upon my house, I am going to put this one in the bank.  This memory will be stored away in a sacred place to be called on when needed.  In those moments where I struggle to parent a tween, in the moments where I wonder where my sweet girl has gone, I will call upon it as reassurance that I am doing something right.

Every once in awhile the universe gives us the gift of being able to see the forest through the trees.

don't waste this

This morning I took milk and juice to a PTC hosted breakfast for the teachers at my sons school, then I went for a run, and followed that up with making eggs for breakfast for my daughter.  These may seem like small things, but to me they are huge.

You see I quit my job about  2.5 months ago, but today is the first day that I have felt the realization that I'm not working.

Today would have been my first day back at work after summer break.

As I was running this morning I was thinking about it.  I thought about my fellow teachers at the school where I taught.  I could guess what they were thinking...the mixed thoughts of excitement, apprehension, and wishes for just one more cup of coffee on what felt like a very early morning.  I know the feeling well, the nerves about meeting a new set of preschoolers, and knowing that the first few days with a class full of three year olds is always crazy.

Being out there, running in the morning sunshine, rather than at work, was a bit of an epiphany.  I just kept thinking:

"Don't waste this."

I don't really know what the future holds.  Right now I'm running down a crazy path, seeing if I can create a successful(ish) small business making handmade jewelry (oh, on that note check out my instagram: copperandoakjewelry).  I read somewhere recently that success isn't knowing what you want to do, but rather being willing to pick a path and follow it.  It may not be exactly what you had hoped for, but you can always go back to the beginning and start over.  True failure only occurs when you aren't willing to begin the journey.

I'll never know unless I try.

So I'm off to tackle my to-do list, call friends to make plans, clean my house, spend the last couple days with my kids before they start school, volunteer with the PTA, help out friends when I can, make jewelry and sell it...

Just don't waste this time.

these memories are etched in stone

I remember exactly where I was 9 years ago.  I was at Costco.

I remember I ran into a friend while I was there, we chatted about life, and how I was feeling.  At apx. 37 weeks pregnant I wasn't feeling great.

I remember some of what I bought that day.  I remember buying pork, bringing it home and dividing the huge, Costco sized, package up into smaller packages for freezing.

I remember that the little boy in my belly hadn't been very active that day, so I had a glass of orange juice and laid down to see if I could get him moving.

I remember my husband encouraging me to call the Doctor when the OJ didn't help, when the nap didn't help.

I remember driving myself to the hospital, sure that I would be hooked up to monitors for at least an hour...how I would have to push a little button...how the nurses would tell me to head back home. They would tell me that my baby was fine, that 'room to move' was just getting sparse in that great big belly of mine.

I was convinced I'd be driving myself back home that evening, bummed to lose one of our last afternoons as a family of three.

The details of that day are etched in my memory.

I never expected that once I was hooked up to the machines and wires I wouldn't have to push that little button even once.

I never imagined that they would call for a tech, and she would hook me up to an ultrasound machine. That she would sit and watch my baby's heart rate go up and up, and that the sweet baby in my tummy would refuse to move the whole time she watched.

I never imagined that they would tell me that I needed to call my husband, that he should come, without our daughter, that he should bring a hospital bag.

I never imagined they would tell me that they couldn't wait any longer...

That we were having a baby now.

Fast forward nine years.

I never would have imagined how my son would love math and science.  How he'd dream of being an environmental scientist to help save animal habitat.

I never would have imagined the heart of gold he would have.  How he'll spend his allowance on a toy for the dog, or give it to a homeless person instead of saving for toys.

I never would have imagined that he'd have his own sense of style, with shaggy, surfer-boy hair, and a love of crazy sneakers.

I never would have imagined that my son would be so strong, and work so hard at a sport that he loves.

I never would have imagined that he would have the same sense of adventure that I do.  That he would love climbing mountains and swimming lakes.  That he would dream of traveling to Egypt and Africa.

I never would have believed I could love him so much.

Happy Birthday Little Man!

In this moment of happiness and joy for me and my family, I want to take a moment and acknowledge that things turned out good for us.  That night in the hospital my boy was born with nothing that some antibiotics, love from family, and good care from amazing doctors and nurses couldn't fix.

We are the lucky ones.

My heart is with you today if you have suffered from infertility, miscarriage, or infant/child loss.

My heart is with you.

being a girl is exhausting

The other day I was struggling to find the time to schedule a manicure.  I realize this may sound like the pinnacle of first-world problems...and it probably is, but hear me out.

You see, I try to get a manicure every few weeks.  I like having pretty nails, I think most girls do, but by husband really likes when I have pretty nails.  I figure it's a small price to pay to look good for my man, but sometimes timing it is tough.  Trying to find an hour to schedule that manicure every 2-3 weeks can be tricky at best.  As I sat, looking at my schedule, on the phone with the lovely woman who does my nails, trying to find a time that worked for both of us, I was reminded of one thing:

This being a girl shit is rough.

A couple of weeks earlier I had been talking to an acquaintance at the gymnastics school where my son goes.  The lovely woman had the most beautiful eyelashes.  They were the kind that are so gorgeous, full and beautiful, that I figured she must have extensions.  My lashes are nothing like that. They are short and not exactly full... I live and die by "Their Real" mascara thanks to my friends over at Benifit.   Hmm, maybe I should consider lash extensions.  Once again I was reminded that:

This being a girls stuff is exhausting.

Flash back even farther to the beginning of the summer when I had forgotten to make a wax appointment until the last minute with the amazing lady who's job it is to rid me of unwanted hair. Luckily she had one time slot left before I left town.  Yet another reminder that:

This being a girl business is grueling.

And as I sit here, typing this post, I'm yet again reminded that I REALLY need to make an appointment for a hair cut/color with my wonderful woman who does my hair...

crap...this being a girl situation is a full time job.

Nails are painted (or acrylic nails are applied), hair is removed, lashes are added, hair is cut...and colored...and maybe added if you are the extension type of girl.  The list could go on...we could get into makeup or maybe skin treatments...blah, blah, blah.

Now please don't take this the wrong way.  I love being a girl.  I love putting outfits together (as proven by my Instagram style account: thismontanastyle).  I love looking good (or at least trying my best) when I go out.  I love getting a pedi with girlfriends.  I love trying new things with my hair.  But at some point even a girly-girl like me has to take a step back and wonder how we created this situation.

For one week I would LOVE, just love, if all the men in my life had to live as girls...hair, clothes, makeup, nails...and they would certainly be required to get a brazilian.  I'm not quite sure how we ended up in this place where women work so hard to look 'good', and most dudes just roll out of bed, quick shower, throw on some clothes and can count that as looking 'good'.

I wish I had some great idea on how to try and change this situation, but I don't.  I guess the one thing I hope is that if any dude reads this, they start to realize, even just a little, the work that goes into a girl looking 'good'.

In the mean time, I'm just gonna hope that my man notices my manicure.

Peace.

Adventure Thursday

Things do not always go the way that I think they should, but the older I get the more I'm believing that things do always go the way the universe intends.

One great example of this is what I've lovingly dubbed Adventure Thursday.

A few weeks back I realized that as the summer was beginning to wane the list of small(ish), Montana day-trips that I had planned was not getting much shorter.  I had been so busy with the longer, more involved trips, as well as the (unending) work of trying to create my own small business, that these little (yet important) adventures were getting pushed to the wayside.  I was feeling pretty disappointed in myself for letting this happen and I realized that I needed to pencil in some time in my planner specifically for this reason.

Thus was born Adventure Thursday.  One day a week when I will not work, and the day (well, at least a good chunk of the day) will be devoted to heading out somewhere new with my kids.

I had high hopes of excited children with smiling faces who were having so much fun that they couldn't possibly whine or argue (why would they when they are having the time of their lives).  I imagined them falling into bed early in the evening because they were so worn out after a day of adventuring in the mountains with fresh air.  I even thought they would be so thankful to me, their loving, thoughtful mother, who had put together such a special day for them.  I pictured myself tucking them into bed and then sitting on the couch, with a glass of wine in my hand, feeling blissful after spending a full day winning at motherhood.

Well, as I'm sure you can imagine, things didn't go quite as I had planned.

The problems started before we had even left the house.  This kids couldn't agree on where we should go to get some items for our picnic by a lake. They whined and argued, while I got frustrated that they were more concerned with getting what they wanted rather than being thankful that they got to have a special day (lunch included).

The problems continued when we got to the trailhead...or what I thought was the trailhead.  Things didn't look quite like I remembered from hiking in the area several years back.  Our destination wasn't even on the map at the trailhead.  The kiddos were starting to question my knowledge about where we were and therefor if I could even be trusted to keep them alive.  But we continued on...we might not be were I intended, but we were at a beautiful trailhead and damnit we were going to have a good time anyhow.

Next up we ran into some hikers that I would have very much liked to punch in the throat.  A group of older ladies who I can only assume were from out of state...and here to experiance the great outdoors. They talked loudly and obnoxiously,  they questioned several parenting decisions I made within the span of minutes that we were in earshot of each other, and talked down to me quite a lot when they found out (thanks dear children of mine) that we were not at our intended trailhead (which was quite ironic as it turns out that they weren't either).

But, after hiking in for a good mile or so, my frustrations started to lead to gratitude.  The trail that we were on turned out to be quite beautiful, and I started to feel so appreciative that the universe had led us here.  I was reminded that even though I am very much in charge of my life,  I am very much not in charge of what the world will put in my path.

where we ended up:

I was starting to feel very zen about the whole thing, but pre-teens have a way of putting an end to almost any zen you think you find.  I won't go into the details, but suffice it to say that all was lovely until we drove back down to a nearby lake to have our (much fought over) picnic lunch.  It was at this peaceful moment that the Tween decided it would be the perfect time to lay out (in bullet point form) all the ways in which I had fallen short as a mom that day.

And I swore that was the end of Adventure Thursday.

Luckily my husband was there, on the other end of the phone, to talk me off the metaphorical ledge, and after a weeks worth of time passed by I decided that I was feeling strong enough to once again venture out with my children for a day of wandering off the beaten path.

And I'm so glad I did.

This time, wether it was because the universe really owed me a solid, or maybe because my husband threatened to ground the kids until school was back in session if he had to talk me off the ledge again, things were much more as I had envisioned them.  Although part of that is probably due to the fact that I had some time to adjust my vision...bring it a bit closer to reality.  There were far fewer complaints from the very beginning.  The kiddos seemed honestly happy to spend the day together and even the time in the car drew very few complaints.  I felt happy and so in awe of the beauty we saw.  

the following adventure Thursday

One of my favorite sayings goes something like this:

Right when you think you've got it all figured out, is right when it will all start to fall apart.

I'm thinking the universe needed to remind me of this once again.  I had it a little too planned out in my head.  I thought I knew what the ideal Adventure Thursday looked like.  As cheesy as it sounds, I needed the reminder to go with the flow, to relax and try to enjoy the journey, not to force it.   

As my husband said (whilst talking me of aforementioned ledge), "babe, you took the wrong road and ended up hiking somewhere new...sounds like an adventure to me!".

Project Pan

Alright, I'm gonna get really honest here...and since this is a no judgement zone, I feel pretty safe letting the cat out of the bag.  I have a problem.  You can find it overflowing my bathroom drawers, on my bathroom counter, and even in my children's bathroom.  The problem is an over abundance of 'beauty' products.  Too many lotions, too much soap, maybe even too much makeup.   I know I'm not alone in this.  In fact, I would be willing to bet that at least half of american women my age have the same issue.   You may be wondering why, and I'll probably sound like most guilty parties when I say,

"It really isn't my fault!"  

I blame it on one thing:  I'm a girl.  That means that regularly, and for as long as I can remember, people have thought I stink.  At least that's what I assume, based on the gift giving nature of a lot of people towards women.  Lotion, soap, perfume, body wash, more lotion, the list could go on.  I realize that hearts are in the right place, but it can get frustrating.  

Okay, maybe I'm not taking on enough of the blame.  

I do like to occasionally buy my own lotion, and I'll admit that I have a really hard time leaving those little travel size bottles in hotel rooms, and maybe I have a hard time throwing out 'useable' product. Well, It's starting to sound like I may have more to do with this problem than I originally let on.  

Either way it isn't pretty.

It looks something like this:

and this:

and this:

Oh lordy, and even this:

Wow, now that I feel as if I've aired my dirty laundry in public, lets go about finding a way to help solve this problem.  

That's where Project Pan comes in.  

I recently stumbled upon someone blogging about Project Pan (I wish I could remember who it was because I would happily give them credit) but I had no idea what it was.  Turns out it's a whole movement devoted to women (or I suppose men) paring down their beauty supplies by using up products they currently own (no waste).  Sounded great, but I needed a way to keep myself accountable for this...that's where this blog comes in.

Honestly, when I actually sat down to start this, it felt a little overwhelming to look at my beauty stash.  I decided I needed a place to start.  I knew I would feel better about it if I could see measurable progress, so I went with the area where I use the most product:  lotion.  

I have so many, and I decided the best thing I could do was to gather all of the lotions up and actually see what I was dealing with.  Here's the result:

It may look like a small picture, but let me tell you...That is A LOT of lotion and moisturizer!  Believe it or not I actually found about three more bottles after I took this picture...yikes!!  No one should have that much.  

So the plan is that I'm going to start with one, use it until it's gone, then move on to the next one. I'll give updates along the way as well as reviews about some of the products (is it something I would purchase again?).  If it's a product that I end up absolutely hating, I'll just toss it and let you know, but I'm hoping to have as little waste as possible.

If you want to join with me on this project let me know.  I'd love to have some company along the way.  Wish me luck...and less lotion.

plan it

I think I may be in love.

This time it isn't with my husband, or even Charlie Hunnam (gasp).  Nope, I'm in love with my Paper Planner, and I want to shout about my love affair from the top of tall buildings.

It started when my husband tried to set me up with Paper Planners newer, cooler, less bulky older brother, Digital Calendar.  We dated on and off for years.  I tried to make it work, I really did.  But Digital Calendar just wasn't flexible enough for me.  He only saw things one way, he wasn't colorful or fun.  Digital Calendar was totally useless when my phone occasionally died, and wasn't easy to work with at all.

After several years of trying to make things work, I gave up.  Digital Calendar and I just aren't meant to be.  That's just about the time when I was reunited with my childhood love of Paper Planner.

Okay, all kidding aside, this really is a pretty accurate description of my history with Planners, date books and calendars.   So, you can understand my excitement when I found something that has actually worked for me.

A few months back, a friend of mine showed me her Passion Planner.  It seemed like it was well laid out and I love the focus on positivity and goal setting (and reaching).  When I looked them up on the internet I was totally pleased to find that (since it was almost half way through the year) they had 2016 planners on sale for around 15 bucks.  That seemed like a good price to give it a try.  If it didn't work out I wasn't out much cash.

I started small, entering my kids after school activities and using it to keep track of my to do list.  Slowly I started adding more and more.  I was keeping track of meal planning, and accomplishments.  By this point I was sold.  This really was working for me.  The cherry on top of the cake has been discovering that there is a whole community of Passion Planner users there to support each other.  I've found Etsy shops dedicated to making stickers specially made to fit in the Passion Planner to add to its uses and help you increase your productivity.

But the best part is that I have seen it work.  Over the past few weeks I have felt my productivity increase.  I have been able to better set goals, and then reach them.  Beginning to create and sell my jewelry has meant setting lots of goals, being able to set up the steps to reach them, and them climb those steps.  As I continue down the road of starting this baby business I am feeling pretty confident, and that is definitely aided by my Passion Planner.


This Planner may not work for you.  Maybe you get along great with Digital Calendar.  Whatever your planner status, I urge you to find what works best for you and use it to its max.

putting myself out there

One of the reasons I started this blog was to keep me me accountable and provide a venue for my thoughts and fears as I quit my job and tried to 'figure out who I want to be when I grow up'.

Dear God has it been scary.

I have things that I want to do, but almost all of them involve stepping out of my comfort zone, and putting myself 'out there'.  I've hemmed, I've hawed, I've talked a big game, but it's taken me some time to build up the confidence to really dive in.

But I've done it.

One of the avenues I've wanted to explore is jewelry making.  Not all that long ago, I became interested in the process of electroforming (read more here) and started making a few pieces for myself and family.  Well, it was quickly apparent that there was interest in my jewelry from people outside of my circle of friends and family, and since I enjoy the process I thought I'd try making some pieces to sell.  Farmers market was the obvious choice, as it's a really low upfront cost, and there is lots of exposure.

So I got to making jewelry...trying to decide how much I really needed to have on hand was hard, but I finally got to a place where I felt comfortable.  Then came the really hard part: Putting myself out there.

I did it.  I closed my eyes and dove in and I'm glad I did.  Last Tuesday was my first market (notice I say first, because there will be more).  It went well, I sold a few pieces and also made some connections.  I'm sure this isn't the path to fame and fortune, but it felt really good to make a few bucks entirely with my own hands.

Next up Etsy...then I conquer the world!!