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be brave.

16 Apr

So I got my new tattoo for my birthday on Saturday! It was such a fun day out for Jeremy and I! Besides the tattoo, we also browsed the the bookstore (drooled), saw a movie (The Host, fun), had dinner at my favorite restaurant (the Paella Bar in Poulsbo, delish), and ate dessert (Mocha Mousse with Caramel and Grey Sea Salt, divine) at home while watching reruns of Arrested Development (catching up before the new season begins on Netflix!). Pretty epic for the big 3-1!

Image 1BE BRAVE.

Image 2I am so pleased with how it turned out. Exactly what I was dreaming of! Bonnie, the artist doing the piece said I better not wuss out considering the words. I didn’t. I am so excited to be carrying these powerful words with me everywhere I go in my life. Hopefully for another 31 beautiful, crazy, lovely, messy years!

 

 

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a lovely messy part.

8 Apr

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I didn’t talk much about this visit ahead of time. I didn’t know what to say, let alone what to expect. My oldest son has been at a Residential Treatment Center for eighteen months. That is a long time in adolescence, it is a long time in the heart of a mom, too.

Phoenix came home last week for a visit. It was scary, letting that door open again on wounds still healing, and not just mine. We are a family of eight. There has been a lot of salve passed around, as we apply it to all of our hearts. Opening the door was saying Yes to the unknown. Saying Yes to  the fragile places and allowing room for the possibility of more aches.

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There has been a lot of growth in our family over the past eighteen months. It was wonderful to have our son home and see that he has been growing just as much as the rest of us. Genuine smiles filled everyones faces. It was a relief to have our time together go well. IMG_5744

We kept mostly to ourselves for the short time we had, but we did go to my parents for a lovely dinner. It was important for Phoenix to see Grandma and Grandpa.
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I don’t know what happens next. There was one moment where Jer and I questioned our ability to put our son back on the plane. Life isn’t easy at his school. Consequences are steep. There are no hugs from mom and dad at the end of the day. It is hard to send a child you love to a place that is breaking him of many negative behaviors, because we all know how hard change is. It is not easy to change, for any of us. And I know that it is doubly hard for Phoenix because his behaviors were borne out of survival skills.

In the end, however, we know that there is still work to be done. Being at the RTC is still the best place for Phoenix to be at this moment in time. I just hope there is an end in sight.
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Having all my children in one place was such a beautiful gift.  There have been many memories over the past 18 months not-quite-right because someone was missing. And for a few days, no one was missing.

This part of our family’s history is messy and hard and not very lovely because you can’t rewind or fast forward these things. You have to walk through them. It is hard to walk through the messy parts.

IMG_5743But for a few days, the messy part was lovely. It is the lovely messy.

 

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somewhere between here and there.

14 Mar

I found myself laughing. Hard. So hard that my face hurt and I squeezed my legs in fear that I might just, well, you know.

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I didn’t {In case you were worried}.

Instead I found myself remembering the parts of me that I love. The parts of the girl not-caught-in-the-seriousness-of-daily-life. The parts of the girl hidden beneath all the messy and complicated bits. The parts of the girl I once knew.

It feels so good to meet again.

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And I realized, somewhere between here and there, that I am that girl, still. I am that girl, always.  Even if it takes a bit of coaxing {or wine} to have her arrive: it is still me.

I am still me.

I think I find it easy to say, ‘Oh, that was a different time’ or ‘I was a different person then’ or ‘I can hardly remember that life’ when I think about my past selves. But the thing is, those past selves don’t have to die. They don’t have to fade away.

They are still here.

Sure, sometimes the digging to find them is harder. Sometimes it takes a special person who can see you deep down, to those buried places and pull you out of your depths. Sometimes it takes getting away from ‘regular’ to remember. Sometimes it takes a whole lot of therapy or medication. Sometimes.

And I know all the past selves we have inside maybe don’t want to be rediscovered. Maybe there are parts that are too shameful or too broken. Maybe parts that were buried for a reason. I get that, too.

But I am talking, right now, about the parts that maybe, if we are brave enough, could be sparked back to life. If somehow the embers in the fire could catch light again and burn. Maybe slow and steady. Maybe a bold blaze.

I don’t want to lose that girl who is laughing so hard her face hurts. The girl who’s cheeks reveal her truth: It feels good to be here. Alive and whole and known. I don’t want her to be buried. Not now. Not ever.

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{A special weekend was spent in Orlando, where I was once again able to hold my Magic Sisters tight. I want to thank you, so very dearly, Jeremy & Mom & Dad for making the space for me to experience that once again. xoxo}

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daily life.

21 Feb

Our ‘weekday groove’ seems different these past weeks. The days go fast. In a good way.

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—There is lots of rollerblading  going on in the basement. The kids recently watched Mighty Ducks and think they are a hockey team at the moment. I am glad I cleared out my basement a year ago. No one else in the neighborhood has an indoor roller rink.

—We also have been hitting up the library every Wednesday (it is a half-day in our district). It is a good thing to commit to on my part— the kids love it, and I try my best to get the books I want ahead of time on hold. Atticus doesn’t allow or much perusing these days.

—I am currently trying to edit the manuscript I finished a few weeks ago. It is much harder then actually writing. Any writer will tell you that. Jeremy read the book and gave me a few pages of notes. I was all moody, not because of his feedback — I asked and NEEDED IT. But because it meant there was so much more work to do. Sigh.

—I am trying to make my bedroom less of a complete wreck. I have painted every other room in this house at least once and thoroughly made them their ‘own space’. My room? Nope. This past weekend Pamela gave me a talking to and so I am trying to get my butt in gear. Any good ides to make my room less like a laundry heap/catch all/disaster zone? Step one: find a head board on craigslist:)

—Moses started a little blog. Leave him a comment!!

—I started weekly menu planning again. Does anyone who reads this care to have me start posting them again? I used to often, but got out of habit. Just curious if it is worth it or annoying?

—Hope you have a happy Thursday! I get to spend the morning with my dear friend Julie, very much looking forward to cozy-ing up on the couch and ignoring the laundry that needs to be folded!

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support.

20 Feb

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My oldest friend Pamela met me at the airport and we stayed up much too late catching up. It happened over hummus and jicama followed by a glass of champagne. It was the kind of conversation that can only happen with people who have known you more than half your life.

I felt lucky. Lucky to sneak away for a few days to a city that I love (and the sunshine— so much!). Lucky to wine taste in Sonoma and not be the designated driver and lucky to know that my family was miles away, going to Chucky Cheese with their dad and eating pizza for breakfast and donuts for dinner.

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Sometimes, like this season, there is just a whole lot to be thankful for. Like rooftop breakfasts and french pressed coffee but also, support.

Support from people in your life who know you. Who have witnessed the fights between you and your spouse as stress levels reach an all time high (Pamela, remember Christmas break 2010?) or who have held bowls for your kiddos as they try and rid themselves of that nasty bug (Pamela, remember August 2012?) or who have  washed your clothes and folded you laundry and put it all away (Pamela, remember , well every time we have been together for the last forever?) . There is something very beautiful about that sort of love and support.

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It is hard to get to that place for people. I know. I mean, what I am talking about took what, 16, 17 years? That is some time. And I know many relationships fall out before then. Seasons change, tides shift. Life changes. Most of the bridesmaids I had standing next to me at my wedding think I still can be reached with a hotmail account. I know.

I also know how necessary and important support is in life. I would be a complete fall-apart-wreck without it. And if there is someone you think, just maybe might be that support person (or people) for you, hold onto them and do not let them go. Even if it means vulnerability in a scary way or possible rejection in a scarier way.

It could also mean you will have a person who will hold the bowl while your kid pukes. Or even, when you do.

No one wants to throw up alone.

 

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shine on, dear.

14 Feb

 

 

 

 

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My aunt and I had made plans in December— we would get tattoos, together, marking our backs with a hope we wanted to share.

Shine On.

I am so glad we did. I held her hand, and a bit later she held mine. Our smiles wide.

Our hearts wide, too.

This little phrase means much to me. This video sums much of it up:

 

 

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songs & chapters & how the story unfolds.

23 Jan

IMG_1681Some people are cool music people. I am not one of them. Basically I find something I like, then rely on Pandora to help fill in the blanks. It works out pretty well. One band I currently am loving is Of Monsters and Men, particularly their album, My Head is An Animal.

Now the thing is, I get that I am about two years behind on the OMAM bandwagon. But that’s not the point, The point is I dig ‘em. I received  their album in my stocking on Christmas morning and listened to their songs about 48 times over Christmas break.  And it hasn’t stopped. The CD is currently holds the number 1 spot in rotation in my 6-CD changer, while I cruise around in my mini-van.

The thing about this particular album that works so well for me, it is doesn’t just feel like a bunch of random songs forced together. It tells as story, beginning to end, with each song telling a piece. I love that. But that is no surprise. I am a story-kinda-person. I read them, and I write them, and  use them to make more sense of life.

So this album is broken into songs that fit together to make this story. It is a grand adventure, an epic tale. And some of the adventure is beautiful and some of it is heartbreaking and some of it is swoon-worthy and some of it is tragic.

But isn’t that what life is?

Some of it is so magical and some of it is so crushable. That’s why this album works for me.

And that’s how I’m trying to make life work for me, too.

The thing is, life isn’t just one song. It isn’t just that one amazing ballad that brings tears to your eyes, that can’t be the entirety of your   album— your story. And neither can be a dance party remix by Ke$ha. Because that’s not what life is, either. It’s not just one song or one chapter. Because if you just take that one piece and try to make life make sense with that, it’s not gonna happen.

You need the bigger picture. You need to listen to the entire album.

It’s so easy to get hung up on that one part that isn’t working. The part that is feels redundant, or keeps feeling like it is skipping, or seemingly on auto-repeat  Or even the part that is working, and frame your entire life around it. Measuring everything else against it.

But hang on, friend.

Crank up the volume on the parts that fire you up— it’s okay to scream. But then remember to listen to the next song, don’t miss it. It is apart of your story, too. Listen.  Take it in. Remember one song isn’t your everything. It is something. Maybe a really significant something— but there is more.

I can promise you that.

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using the back door, tonight.

9 Jan

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I feel like using the back door on my own blog tonight. I want to slip inside, unnoticed, maybe lean on the kitchen counter and take in whatever is going on around me. Maybe the real party is happening in my living room. Maybe friends are sitting around, on the couch and in the blue velvet chairs talking over  glasses of mason jars filled with boxed wine. It is cozy in the living room, I know, I am welcome  out there. But I just want to stand in the back ground for a bit, by the back door.

The holidays were good. Busy and good. And I really love the New Year. I love the possibilities, the plans. This feels like a good time of year. But this year just feels like a full blown scale-back. Scaling back in terms of commitments and pressure. Scaling back in terms of making a good impression and making people happy. Scaling back in terms of the actual scale after that Christmas Day butterscotch pie ( & more). I dunno. I just kinda want to use the back door and do my own thing.

Maybe I’m getting old. You know,  maybe I am becoming the old lady down the street who doesn’t wear a bra and is always sneaking out the back door to smoke a cigarette (or worse). Don’t worry, friends, I’m not there yet. I am still me through out, just  feeling quieter, yet braver, all at the same time and in all different ways.

Come on the back steps, if you like,  and sit with me, away from the party happening inside. I will share my lighter. If you sneak me out  a jar full of wine.

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new year, ect.

1 Jan

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Hi Friends!

I know. I went missing around here at the end of 2012. I kept thinking, these past few weeks, I really must sit down and pound out the words on my heart at this moment in time. I didn’t  want to forget or I was wanting to remember, but then life kept happening and so all those little words and thoughts are mostly lost.

But some of them, I guess the ones that really matter, are still swimming around in my mind. Life-happenings helped me refine my thoughts and avoid blog-vomit. You’re welcome.

The holidays were really weird and emotional and weepy for me this year. It is like everything I used to think was wrong is actually right and everything I held tight to is a bit of a waste. Like wasted energy. And wasted space and wasted brain power. I think for the past forever I’ve been one of those people who are wound up too tight (although always denying it). And I know I eluded to it a bit back about redefining expectations- but seriously, like  LIFE IS SHORT. And if my expectations on my life are out of whack, that means my life is out of whack. And seriously, I don’t want my short, short life to be whack.

I WANT MY LIFE TO BE MARVELOUS and INTOXICATING and RIDICULOUS.

And the thing is, my short life will never be marvelous or intoxicating or ridiculous if I am stressing out on Christmas Eve that the one package I am waiting on to be delivered from the interwebs HAS NOT ARRIVED AND THEREFORE CHRISTMAS IS RUINED -> that is not an intoxicatingly marvelous person- that is an annoying person. I don’t want to be annoying.

I think a lot of times I get all stressed out about what people are gonna think or say or if they are offended or if they are mad. And then I stop living my short life the way I really want to. I am going to stop doing that. Obviously I don’t want to be this major jerk, I want to be compassionate and graceful and kind- but I also want to be okay with saying, HEY, ACTUALLY I DONT WANT TO DO XYZ AND I WANT TO DO QRS. And then after I say that, to not think about it anymore, because I need to know that the people who would get mad that I feel like a change is the best thing for me, aren’t really my people.

I also wanted to say one more thing (and I kinda feel like the blog-vomit I was wanting to avoid is actually happening now), but I am in a really happy place in my life right now. My word for last year was BRAVE and I just want to say, I think that me accepting and embracing the concept of BEING BRAVE is what has helped allow space for so much healing in my life. I feel like choosing to BE BRAVE this year gave me this crazy-fearlessness I haven’t felt in a really long time.  And the sad thing is, that was always who I have been, THIS BRAVE GIRL. It’s just that life wear us down, right?  And we lose those little pieces of ourselves that are precious and beautiful and real.

I got one of the best compliments of my life the other day. I was leaving the movies with my sister-in-laws and husband. We had just watched This Is 40. And there is this scene in the movie where the couple leaves their kids for the night and stay at a hotel and get all cray-cray, letting all of their guards down. So my SIL turns to me and says that while she was watching that scene she could picture Jer and I acting exactly like that when we go out of town.

And it was a simple sentence but it made me feel amazing, becasue I was seen by someone else in this way, like the girl I am was seen by my SIL. It made me feel so known. And maybe that seems weird to write down, but the thing is, I have worked hard to be understood and be known and I guess being Brave has been a big part of that for me this year.

And I want my people, the ones who read this blog, to feel like they can be known and understood and accepted too. Because it feels really good.

I don’t have a word for this year picked out. I don’t know, nothing has come to me I guess. And in light of my continual choice to redefine, I am being okay with not having a word on JANUARY FIRST. The world, mine or otherwise, has not ended because of this.

Okay, so one more thing, (and this is the very last, I promise)- Thank you for reading this blog and adding your thoughts to the posts and just being apart of this short life with me. I feel honored to be on this journey with you. Really. And I hope your 2013 is full of marvelous-ness.

xoxo. anya

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oh christmas tree, oh christmas tree.

7 Dec

 

IMG_4037In a lot of ways I am a Things-Have-To-Be-A-Certain-Way-Kinda-Girl. They don’t though. Things can be different (like my hair!) or unconventional (like a child in a residential treatment center) or ‘just because’ (like buying Little Debbie’s for the kids lunches, even though they are a No-No). And even though I know that, and embrace it in certain areas of my life, others are totally off limits.

Like Christmas. I am usually a At-Christmas-Things-Have-To-Be-A-Certain-Way-Kinda-Girl, too. Like the entire balance of the universe is going to be off if things aren’t how they should be.

I don’t know what is going on, but this year I am like a Christmas free for all. I wasn’t up for cutting down a tree the day after Thanksgiving like always- so the kids added to the yarn tree on the wall (and lovveeeddddd doing that). I usually host Christmas morning at my place, but this year my mom has dibs. I usually meticulously plan a Christmas budget- this year, there is what there is and I am not stressing about it for a minute.

It’s like a light went on, or off.

I think it is in part because last year, when Phoenix spent his first year at a RTC, it was like a sense of relief that we would have some peace at the holidays. It was like a weight was gone and I could enjoy myself knowing he was in the safest place possible and all my others kids were, too.  This year I just want him home. I just want all my kids together in one place. And since we’re not getting that, it’s like everything else is just a little off. Or not off actually, just different.

And maybe it’s in part that I am finding out a bit more out about myself each day. I am finding I like the dining floor to be littered in scraps of paper from the snowflakes we are making to hang in the windows. I am finding I don’t really mind spending time with music on while I wash the millionth dish of the day (the dishwasher has been out for a few months). I am finding I like the quiet days I am spending at home with a wide open schedule, and the quieter they are, the happier I am.

I am finding that stressing out about things at the holidays is just not apart of who I am anymore. I like that. I like my yarn tree and my randomly hung lights and my blue painters tape holding the snowflakes in place- I like my lovely messy home.

I hope you are also finding ways to embrace the lovely messy in your life this holiday season, too.

 

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